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We were woefully early for dinner. The hotel’s restaurant opened early to cater to tourists and when we sat down to dine at 8:45 p.m., not a single table was taken. See, dinner in most of Spain doesn’t really start until 9:30, maybe 10 at night. For a pair from Albuquerque, where the evening “rush” happens as early as 5:30, eating at our typical bedtime took some getting used to. Back home, the last time we saw midnight might have been New Year ’s Eve. Uh, New Year’s Eve, 2008. Now we were lucky to get the check before the next day arrived.
As an MSer, staying up late typically holds about as much appeal as sunbathing midafternoon in the parking lot of a Walmart on a sweltering, humid summer day in Houston. But after living with this disease for nearly a decade, I’ve learned that if I don’t adapt and adjust, I’ll face unkind consequences. In this case, starvation and a hungry, grumpy wife.
FULL BLOG: http://activemsers.blogspot.com/2014...ith-bulls.html