I have been giving private lessons to a girl, Lucia for the past 3 or 4 weeks. She is an architecture student in Madrid but lives in Segovia. Before she was working as a Construction Site Manager, hard to picture but she is certainly sharp enough to handle it. I almost feel bad charging her for classes because talking with her is so nice; she is alternative minded, and charming.
She is buried in classwork and hardly has a second to breathe but at our last meeting in the café we planned on meeting at a park instead of the café and she said if I would like to go for a walk during the weekend I should call her, so Sunday I did but she was busy so it didn’t happen.
Monday I got a text saying we should go for drinks or a walk around 830 or 9. We met near her place and went to one of the bars in the Juderia, or old Jewish neighborhood. There were no tables on the terrace so we sat on the stairs like I’ve done before then decided to walk down the stairs to an area where there is a nice view and some benches. Lucia felt bad for wandering off with the glasses so she asked if we could bring them back later and the barkeep almost wouldn’t let us go but we were very salado she said. If I understand her correctly salado is a person or characteristic; someone who is overly nice and assuring with some motive, maybe suave.
She explained about her project in Morocco and how the people have built so hap hazardously and Tetris-like that now many rooms have no windows and how they respect no boundaries except nature if there is a tree they won’t build there. Down below in a park there was a group of people playing various instruments but we decided to switch places after returning our glasses.
At the place with the wine barrels outside near the Plaza Mayor we continued talking and ran into Jonathan, the Auxiliar from England. He and I talked for a few minutes and his female friend and Lucia talked. He was telling me about participating in a charity hitch hiking contest from London to Berlin. It was around 11 and Lucia figured she had better get home to continue working so we left, passing calle de los bares.
She suggested one more at the bar on the corner where we went when we first got to Segovia, Sandra took Ben and I there. The bartender or owner said I was lucky to be hanging out with her and talked emphatically about her. She also ran into some other friends but didn’t talk to them much. I had tried potatoes ali-oli and patatas bravas but never the ones we had tonight. They had vinegar, garlic and lemon and were awesome and super tangy. Seriously now though she had to go. Luckily we were literally around the corner from her house.