“But that’s the time I usually go to bed!” “They do things differently here in Spain,” Issie told her. “There’s an afternoon siesta and then we eat dinner late.” The Spanish afternoon siesta was the perfect way to sleep off their jetlag. Issie had been given the same room as last time, on the second floor with its own balcony overlooking the cobbled courtyard. Like the rest of the house, the room had dark-polished wood floors strewn with colourful, Moorish rugs. The walls of the bedroom were rustic plaster, tinted deep pink, and hung with ornate mirrors. Issie had flopped down on the rainbow-striped bedspread and fallen straight to sleep. When she woke up she was utterly starving and it was nearly 10 p.m. Downstairs the massive dining table was decorated with vases of orange roses and was heaving with food. There was ‘rich man’s paella’ made with squid and spicy sausage, served with tomato bread, olives, and a huge plate of fried calamari and salt cod. To drink there was orange juice from the El Caballo’s orchard and red wine.
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