Chinese Takeaway

Somehow, in all the messing about with my bicycle mixed in with occasional moments of trying to enjoy a holiday, I seem to have misplaced a set of reading glasses. I’ve got the pouch that should contain them but it’s empty. Normally, I’d have put the glasses down on a table somewhere but try as I might, finding them eluded me. There is, of course, the possibility that I might have left them at a restaurant having read the bill to pay it. I didn’t think I had, though.

I’ve got another pair, which I keep in my rucksack, so it’s not a real problem but I like having a second pair to be safe.

Spain is full of emporiums run by Chinese folks. The stock ranges from cooking pans, material, light bulbs, tools, electrical supplies, motoring accessories, the lot. They are an absolute Aladdin’s cave. What you can’t buy in these place is largely not worth buying. We are not talking high end items but relatively cheap. They can often help you out in a fix (though not, it seems, with bicycle innertubes). When we had Casa Libélule in Jalón, we learned such establishments were affectionately known as Chinese Takeaways.

There is one such right beside the Dia supermercado in Madrigal de la Vera. Since we were off on our bikes [YEAH!] to do a top-up shop prior to moving on on Monday, Francine suggested looking for some replacement reading glasses in the Chinese Takeaway.

What is difficult once inside is finding what you’re looking for, so huge is the range of items they carry with apparently little in the way of logical organization. We both began scouring the aisles with no success.

Near the checkout, Francine did find sunglasses but that was it. Then we turned around and there, low down behind us were a few boxes of reading glasses arranged by power. Francine rummaged in the 2.00-2.50 dioptre box and finally found a 2.00 pair.

PXL_20240922_125806445For a princely €3.75, I was the proud owner of a perfectly comfortable pair of reading glasses, in a plastic case and complete with a cleaning cloth AND a grandad cord to string them around my neck. Amazing! I really should go and buy a few more pairs for home.

Francine joked that now that I had a new pair, we’d be bound to find the old pair that I’d sought to replace. These would be magic reading glasses.

Back at Frodo later in the day, Francine did some laundry and went to get the washing line from one of Frodo’s lockers.

“Come here”, she shouted, ominously.

“It doesn’t sound as though I want to come there”, I said. Such summonses often mean that she has discovered something amiss and Mr. Fixit is needed.

I went around the back of Frodo. There, on the sandy ground, was my original pair of reading glasses. I’m in the habit of hooking them into the neck of my shirt and, when bending down using Frodo’s locker, which is quite low, they’d evidently slipped out of my shirt and onto the ground unnoticed.

Magic reading glasses indeed.

Maybe I should use that grandad neck cord that came with the new pair.

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