I spent the weekend in Sanlúcar de Barrameda, the Andalusian town where I lived for seven months. I’ve written about the town previously, but going back there just to visit after spending a month in cosmopolitan Madrid made me see it in a different light.

One of the most distinctive things people (both from Sanlúcar and people who are talking about Sanluqueños) love to talk about is their accents. When I first arrived in Madrid after three months in Gran Canaria, looking back the Sanlucan accent didn’t seem so strong. But when I arrived Saturday morning and heard it for the first time in four months, I heard the phlegmy dribble sputter out of people’s mouths, and I was like, yep, they have a strong accent here. And it’s not particularly attractive.

The other thing was the food, pretty much what Sanlúcar is famous for: pescaito frito (fried fish) and langostinos (king prawns). And while there are are some select good places to eat, I started to accept that maybe I should admit I don’t particularly like most of the food. And realistically, it’s incredibly unhealthy without any fresh vegetables. And too much white bread. I ordered a salad on Saturday night from one of Sanlúcar’s better known restaurants, and apart from the lettuce, all the ingredients came from the tin. The croquettes may have been frozen, from a packet. Half of the dinner menu at a few places is made up of pretty average small sandwiches (montaditos). We did however find quality langostinos and salmorejo.

It was lovely to go there and reminisce, and we met some lovely new people there, as well as hanging out with old friends. But it also made me appreciate how much I love living in the city once again.

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