The rain in Spain…

I know, I know.  There really is no excuse worth having.  But the gps were very hungry,  and when teens are hungry, instant foraging is essential.  The McDonalds just happened to be next to the Asda carpark when we stopped in Omagh for essential supplies (read alcohol) en route to Donegal.  (I’ve just reread that – I imagine that fine restaurant is always there, not just when we happened to be passing. )  Anyhow, into McDonalds we went. 

Burger outlets always provide me with something of a challenge as, if I eat gluten, it’s not too long before everyone else knows about it and is finding an alternative bathroom.   It’s definitely not recommended on a car journey.  The place with the golden M isn’t too bad as these things go as I can eat their burgers as long as there is no bun attached, and their fries aren’t coated with anything extra to make them crispy.  But just you try asking for a burger without a bun.  I generally lose the will to live quite early in the conversation and settle for the coffee.

This time, though, I thought “I’ll have a salad!” but decided to check its contents before committing myself.  So…

“Can you tell me what’s in the salad?”

Blank look. 

“What ingredients are in the salad?”

She gets the message.  “Lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and cards.”

“Cards?  Why  d’you put cards in salad? Do you mean croutons?”

“No, cards.  CARTS.”

“Carts?  What are carts?”

She looks at me as though I’m mad.  I look at the children.  They’re as blank as I am. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what carts are.”

“Carts.  CAARTS.  They’re Carts”  she shouts in desperation. 

“Ooohhh…  Carrots.  Car-rots.  I’ll have the salad please.”

Exit one family of hysterical Englanders. 

I should have known.  I worked in Belfast for 4 years, for goodness sake.  My mum was from Belfast.  I was born there.  I’ve answered to ‘Chraasteen’ for years. 

But I don’t remember ever coming across carts in salad.

Photo credit:  WaffleWhiffer



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