NOW, I haven’t been in Spain very long, but I have already gotten accustomed to eating a bigger meal at midday, napping after said meal, and not eating dinner until late in the evening.

I’m even starting to understand the incredibly fast rate of Andalucían speech and can get through grocery stores and restaurants without incident.

I have not, however, gotten accustomed to the siesta the town as a whole takes each day.

Without fail, the times I realize I need something most is about 2:10 pm when everything is locked and closed and the shop owners are pulling the big metal doors down and heading home to lunch with their families.

Need more saldo for your phone? Wait until 5:30 or 6:00 pm.

How about something from the pharmacy? It’ll be a couple hours.

Heading home from work and want to quick get that sweater you’ve been eyeing for the last week? You might as well take a nap first.

I thoroughly enjoy the relaxed lifestyle of Southern Spain, truly, I do. It is a marvelous pace and good for the soul.

As a spoiled North American, though, it is going to take a few more times walking up to a darkened storefront at 2:05 pm before I am used to completely relaxing and enjoying the after lunch resting period that happens every day.

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