Time Out

Quinn told me as soon as he came down to breakfast that he was feeling out of sorts. Nothing really hurt; he was just tired and weak. (I hadn't woken him, by the way - I was at the computer grading the final exams that my colleague Anne Dupuis had scanned and emailed to me. I'd left him asleep with the fan on.) Quinn ate some breakfast and essentially just went back to bed, and has been there, either fiddling with his phone or asleep, ever since.  I think he's just worn down, what with a week of being on the road under his belt. It tires a body out. 

I used the time this morning to do some laundry up in the big sink and to pretty much finish my grading, apart from the usual niggling problems of getting them officially registered. (The grades, that is.) It was pleasant enough - I hadn't done laundry by hand since Ecuador. 

I checked in with him about noon and asked if he was hungry; he wasn't, but was enjoying his rest. So I let him continue it and set out to find myself a spot of lunch. Which probably isn't even a thing. But I've been spending time with Brits, so. You adapt. 

I walked to a couple of places that are only open for lunch and that are nearby to comparison shop. On the way I passed this fountain, which adorns the courtyard of a massive apartment complex. It's never been on since we've been here; I had assumed it was broken. But here it is, in all its lumpy, pseudo- Aztec Latin American glory:

I think I know why it's usually off: it is thunderously loud. 

This is the sign in front of one of he places I checked out:

They have different prices for men and for women, since it's all you can eat (in one pass at the buffet, on one plate). Kind of impolitic, but there you are. It's a slightly different system than the weigh-your-plate one. I also really like "Sobremesa gratis" - "Hanging out after eating, free". 

Here's how it looks at the place I chose: 

Little scale there for plate weighing, at the end of the counter.

This place doesn't even have a sign. I didn't know it was there. It's the space where the two women are standing. 

It's a funny neighborhood, this one - right down the street from our posada, two doors from the luncheonette, is this building:

No one lives there. It's walled off and looks abandoned. Someone has hung those banners there, with "MUHAB", which stands for something like "movement for habitat". I imagine that their point is that, in a mega city with lots of homeless, having these perfectly habitable buildings standing around empty is obscene. In this photo, you can see the gorgeous apartment building just up the street:

Closer to the Posada, you see these houses; the ones to the right look like they're probably pretty expensive. While the one to the left is abandoned and overgrown:

Similar stuff happens everywhere. I remember that from Octavio & Dominique's house in Alabama, next door to what was rapidly becoming a ruin. Things go wrong. But it still puzzles me. 

The long and the short of it is that we took today off. Quinn is in he shower right now, feeling better but not totally well. We watched Ecuador-France, and will NOT be cheering for elbow-throwing, back-jumping, face-shoving France in the next round - nor for that ref, who called a red card on Valencia for kicking the ball when a French player inserted his leg underneath Valencia's cleat. Terrible call. I'll keep you apprised of Quinn's health - I thin I he's fine, just a little worn out. And tomorrow we have Belgium-Korea! G'night!