Heaven, I'm In Heaven

Tere and Miguel returned finally from their summer vacation travels. They bounced around to a few places, visiting friends and lounging on various beaches, leaving us behind in the city. We forgive them though, because they deserved the break. Besides, as soon as they arrived home, Tere texted me to see if we wanted to come to her place for dinner that night. The answer, of course, was "Of course!" When asked, she told us we needed to bring nothing but ourselves, which is what we very ungraciously did.

HEADING OFF INTO THE SUNSET, WALKING ACROSS THE BRIDGE TO TRIANA.
(THE BRIDGE OF THE HOLY CHRIST OF THE EXPIRATION — AKA, "THE ONE WITH THE CANOPIES.")

AT THE SAME TIME, LOOKING SOUTH TO ISABEL II BRIDGE (AKA, TRIANA BRIDGE).
(THE MATCHING TOWERS VISIBLE AT CENTER BEHIND THE TREES ARE AT EITHER END
OF PLAZA DE ESPAÑA. WE'LL BE BACK THERE NEXT WEEK.)

Tere and Miguel had invited another two friends, one we had met before with his partner when they welcomed us to their own house just before Christmas last year. She was traveling on business this time. As usual, their friends were warm, charming, interesting, and funny. We had a great evening, even though it was still 33C (91F) when we walked across the bridge to Triana at 9 p.m. San Geraldo was not a happy (or cool) camper by the time we arrived. But Miguel and Tere were ready for him. Although dinner was going to be enjoyed in the courtyard/patio outside Tere's apartment, an electric fan was plugged in just for his highness, the 22-greats grandson of Ferdinand III.

IT'S ALL ABOUT HIM.
MIGUEL SETTING UP SAN GERALDO'S PERSONAL FAN.

We forgot that Tere's birthday had occurred while she was away. There was a cake (chocolate) and candles. And there we were empty-handed. What this means is that Tere and Miguel are obligated to go out to dinner with us next week for a belated birthday celebration.

A VIEW FROM THE PATIO.

The highlight of the evening for San Geraldo was when Tere brought out a plate of patatas bravas (cubed potatoes fried in olive oil and served in a spicy tomato sauce). San Geraldo loves potatoes and, since our arrival in Sevilla, he has grown to especially love patatas bravas. He orders them in just about every tapas bar we visit, which means he gets a plate of patatas bravas mostly to himself every time, since I'm not a huge fan of potatoes. Teré foolishly handed the plate to San Geraldo to pass around and he chose to assume it was his own personal plate. Although he did share, the plate was finally passed back to him to finish things off. San Geraldo then sang contentedly while forking patatas into his mouth.

SAN GERALDO SINGING FOR HIS SUPPER.