Lanzarote

Despite my pasaporte de España

I’m not fluent in the language

An 8-week course and a little time in Spain 

Do not a fluent Spanish speaker make

But I can follow a conversation

Catch words I recognize

Get the gist

Churros con chocolate for breakfast

Now there’s a language I understand! 

The energy of the island

The blanco of the houses

My titos, relatives who lift my heart and soul and make me laugh

Spoil me rotten

Feed me up with tortilla y papas arugadas con mojo

The onions and garlic and olive oil

National signifiers of Spanishness

The essential ingredients to any good meal

(Remember standing in the markets in Islington

And the three musicians

Who played flamenco music

Were set up next to the olive oil stand

And you thought that was very appropriate

The glorious delicious cliche of it)

And from the tiny aeropuerto

You can fly to Nuremburg or Madrid or Varsovia or Gran Canaria or Gatwick or Amsterdam

And you think no matter how long you’ve been away from

Your island home

Far away in another hemisphere

The novelty of being able to travel to such destinations for a weekend

Will never quite wear off

And you’re entirely grateful

That so much of the world is your oyster

And you can understand enough to say

Gracias. 

The end.