Monday, October 17, 2011

As it turns out, I am not the first Caruso in Spain.

Initially, I began to wonder if I had booked too long of a stay in Cadiz. Truth to be told, it's a tiny city. There's not much nightlife except for Thursday-Saturday. But I figured I was there, and there is certainly nothing wrong with a bit of a beach vacation. Monday evening brought a full room of travelers, not just weekend beach goers that had filled the hostel over the weekend. Spainish born-currently a Canadian Miguel and Paul, a gap year teen from the Netherlands became my new roommates. That evening we walked to the market and bought a few Cruzcampos to enjoy on the rooftop.

On Tuesday, Canadian Natalia, Miguel, Paul and I headed for a day at the beach, as it may be my last depending on weather. As we were walking, I ran into Natalie a girl I had met in my hostel in Sevilla and invited her to join us on the beach. I was out numbered between Dutch and Canandians but we had a great afternoon. I had walked by an Italian place named Caruso's a few days earlier, that being my family name, I was obligated to go. Natalia and Paul joined me for the adventure. The food was tasty, but not the most amazing Italian food ever. I asked our waiter if he was a Caruso (he could fit in with some of my second cousins) but he was not, the owner had died nearly 25 years ago. I was a bit bummed, I was curious to know if they were possibly from the same village as my grandfathers family. Regardless it was a nice lunch.

 That evening, my roommates all went to dinner together, but I had opted to hang back and cook since I had eaten lunch out. We had made plans for drinking on the roof, but midnight when they hadn't returned, I went to bed since I had an early bus to Gibraltar the following morning.

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