I am actually standing on the doorstep of moving from being technically obese to being actually obese and it’s all St Andrew’s fault – you’ll have to check out this link to find out exactly why.
If it hadn’t been for him, then the harbour area at Puerto de la Cruz wouldn’t turn into a minefield of nose-mugging aromas during the whole of November until the fiesta of San Andrés actually takes place.
On the way to masochistically have our nerves shredded (i.e. watch Man Utd leave things till the last minute and then some again before saving the day) we had to pass not one, not two, not even three, but about seven San Andrés stalls whose goodies shouted and taunted us all the way with offers of giving our taste buds the time of their lives.
Everywhere conical braziers glowed orange in the darkness. On top of each were either roasting chestnuts, or sizzling skewers of pork seasoned with a special potion which had the magical qualities of being able to turn the wafting smoke solid so that it stuck two wispy fingers up my nose and dragged me towards its source.
It was enough to drive us insane and by the time we fought our way through I think my mouth was dripping saliva like an Old English Sheepdog’s.
Scores of people hadn’t been as lucky, or strong willed as us and had succumbed to the temptations. Everywhere I could see people tucking into pokes of chestnuts, or peeling succulent chunks of pork off skewers with their teeth; their eyes glowing with a fervour bordering on ecstasy.
This time we made it through, our waistlines undamaged, but there’s only so long we can hold out and it’s just the beginning of November.
I fear it won’t be too long before it’s a case of ‘fat and happy land’ here we come.
Expect the good people of Puerto (and visitors) to be looking a bit more portly than usual this month.