The Long Long Long Weekend

Or, The Point of a Puente
 
May 1 in is Labour Day in Spain. This year that was Wednesday. May 2 is Autonomous Community of Madrid Day. Obviously, that was Thursday. That meant Friday May 3 could only be one thing: a "puente".

a giant in consuegra

A "puente" - bridge in Spanish - happens when there's a holiday (or two) in the middle of the week. You get either the day before or after said holiday(s) off from work, thus creating a bridge to Saturday or from Sunday, resulting in a longer than normal long weekend. In this case, the bridge created a long long long weekend.
 
Last week was a two-day work week. We slept in on Wednesday, pottered around the house all morning, and left for the village after lunch. It's about a four-hour drive, and oh how much nicer it is to go there on a long long long weekend instead of the regular, quick there-and-back trip.
 
We went out for dinner and came home for drinks by the fire. It may be May, but it was still chilly enough to need the extra heat.

We spent most of Thursday eating and sleeping - coffee and toast with avocado, and by the time we got dressed it was time for the "aperitivo", so off we went for pre-lunch beverages and tapas. Then it was home for lunch and a siesta, out for grocery shopping, and back for dinner and bedtime...

glad i didn't try to swing off that...

 
After doing a lot of nothing on Thursday, we decided we'd better make sure to get out on Friday. After all, I'm North American, and that means busyness is programmed into my DNA. If I'm not doing anything, I'm feeling a little bit guilty and am likely to be annoying Tall Guy with questions such as, "Why aren't we DOING anything? What should we DO? Do want do GO somewhere?", and so on. 
 
Strolling counts as something and nothing at once. It had been rainy in the village, so the fields were green and filled with wildflowers. Add to that warmth and sun and you have a perfectly exquisite afternoon walk. Doing something but pretty much nothing at the same time. Compromise, anyone?
 
The plan on Saturday was to get up early and drive home through Consuegra to check out some scenery straight out of Quixote. Consuegra is a little town in the province of Toledo, about an hour and a half out of Madrid, famous for its windmills. It also has a cute little castle and what look like some tasty restaurants.

more giants

As usual, we slept in. It must be the country air (and maybe the fact that Tall Guy's been working 14 hour days for three weeks, and I've been getting up before 6). Anyway, we needed the rest and made it to Consuegra after all. It was a lovely rest-stop, and surprisingly busy! Three tour buses (two for Koreans and one for a Chinese-Spanish friendship group), carloads of families, and even a fleet of motorcycles. I was happy to finally see such an iconic landscape, and Tall Guy was glad to stretch his legs.
 
Today we... slept in. Surprise! I made amazing pancakes for brunch and put on a pot of soup for tomorrow. We saw friends and their new baby, picked up groceries, did housework, started planning a summer vacation, and just lounged around watching crap on TV.
 
All in all, we didn't do much on this long long long weekend, but we're rested and well fed, and if you ask a Spaniard, that's pretty much the point of a "puente" anyway.

the long-arm shot