The day started out without much promise. It was foggy again. Grams talked me into riding in her basket on her bike (yes, I’m a fool). This time we went up the highway all the way to the old gas station. This station was built in the early part of the last century. It’s that classic phoney baloney Spanish style that proliferates throughout Santa Tourista. Of course, this is out in the sticks, far from the hubbub of the big city of ST. I love this building. It’s supposed to have been restored, but that was promised years ago and nothing has happened yet.
We had delicious chili for lunch and then headed off to the Lemon Festival. Lemons used to be a big crop in Santa Tourista. Naturally, the trees were mostly cut down and replaced by homes a long time ago. So, every year the locals celebrate the memory of the lemons with a festival. There’re lemon bars, lemon pie, lemonade, lemon beer, lemon ice cream, lemon pizza: well, you get the drift.
Yes, I had a lemon bar and it was so very good.
Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).
And, of course