The first evening at our friends beach house was amazing. Soon after we arrived, they took us the short distance to the beach.
The sand was clean and warm, nothing like the local Whitstable beaches back home. The water was very clean and also warm after basking in the sun all day. You could see fish swimming in the water and your feet moving through the sand like two stingrays.
It was already more than we could have imagined, but more was to come when we went out to dinner.
We went to a lovely restaurant that was near the harbour in the centre of Denia. Although there was a breeze by this time (9pm),it was still very warm and the fresh air gave some respite to it.
Our host told us that is was a kind of tradition for Spanish people to share meals between them, rather than have an individual meal each. We were very happy to take part, so they ordered a selection of courses for us to share.
First up was razor clams…now you may not know that I have a healthy respect for seafood and I usually avoid it altogether. But I didn’t want to offend my friends, so I bit the bullet (or the clam).
The flavour wasn’t as bad as I expected, it was fishy and slightly salty. As I continued, soon I realised that my teeth were not capable of turning this length of clam into anything I could swallow. Like a contestant in a bush tucker trial, I fought with all my might to swallow this slippery and slightly rubbery clam.
However, my stomach had now overruled my brain and was refusing to accept this strange food. I would consciously think about swallowing, reinacting all the steps required to successfully complete it, but there was no response from my throat. Finally, I had to admit defeat and spit the battered clam into a napkin.
To my surprise, it looked a lot like it had before I started chewing it!
After that, the following salmon, beef, squid rings and potatoes were easy peasy. I was very proud of myself for trying the razor clam even though I didn’t swallow it.
We got back to the beach house just after 1am, which we soon realised would be the norm in Spain. There were still children playing outside in the ‘Fresco’ period as our friends said. This was really great to see all the local children being able to play outside with no fear until the early hours.
After a long day, we were glad to see our bed, and looking forward to the next day.