Cats, old stone buildings, coffee con leche, coffee con yellow, water fountains, working church bells, siesta, wheat fields, cow bells, sheep bells and horse bells, heidi houses, shutters, cow dung and fermenting hay smells, crusty bread in no packets, bread broken by hand, flies flying in squares, old cars, wifi- and some not do good weefee, warm expensive orange juice, tuna in everything, washing lines everywhere, plastic mattresses, boots in the hallway, quarto qesa pizza, green parakeets in the trees, old men playing cards in the cafes or parks, everybody smoking, beautiful clothes, very slim Spaniards, different dialects, stern looking friendly people, disposable sheets, Fanta Limon Go, Spanish bagpipes, dogs on chains, topless muscle men, topless not so muscled ladies on the beach, deep female voices (probably from the smoking), scooters and bicycles, churches of all shapes and sizes, fake candles, paying for unasked-for bread, selfie town everywhere, balla, no aircon, toilet lights that stay on for only 5 seconds, graffiti, no English reading material, folk dancers, tractors pushing us off the path, alleyways and doors, yellow arrow indicators, generalised toilets, people stripping down to underwear, trombone player in the river, strong electric perfume diffusers, 10 minutes of TV adverts, no credits on American series, hand gestures and head nodding, and now I’m almost time for my train back to Paris.