'I hear you make the best Sangria in town?' Susan asks the Spanish waiter, who picks up on the word 'Sangria', and looks visibly relieved. With a dramatic and definitive 'Sí', he disappears amidst a barrage of human faces, the illicitly delicious tinkle of alcohol pitchers and the mayhem of a Friday evening.
Martin is slightly more armed, or so he believes, for this less explored part of Spain, with an English-to-Basque guide he picked up from Housemans last week. But soon enough, he is struggling, and Susan's eyes well up from continuous laughter. After having devoured a bunch of pintxos, and washed it down with Sangria, Martin agrees that his preparedness is rather pointless.
'Look at that bunch of (rather garrulous) women'. They seem Asian and definitely don't speak Spanish or Euskara, from the looks of it. But look at the time they are having. You just have to let your hair down. All you need', Susan quips. And they do. From the gorgeous coastline of Biarritz, to the manicured charm of Saint Jean de Luz, from the artiness of Guggenheim, to the stunning beauty of San Sebastian, Martin and Susan cannot imagine a holiday so complete.
Damayanti looks at this elderly couple. How carefree and wonderful! Yet holding hands, nearly always. She smiles at the woman, who politely smiles back, almost acknowledging each other's enjoyment, counting their blessings.
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