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Romans, Moors and curry

Today was officially declared Cultural Day. This means we replaced flip-flops with Purpose and boarded Alicante’s delightfully efficient tram, which continues to perform like a Swiss watch that happens to run along the Costa Blanca.

Our destination: the excellent Museo Arqueológico de Alicante (MARQ). Now, I have always had a soft spot for the Romans. You have to admire a civilisation that could build roads, aqueducts, amphitheatres and still find time for decent plumbing. Two thousand years later, I struggle to assemble an IKEA bedside table without moral support.

The Roman exhibits were, as ever, impressive. Mosaics! Amphorae! Serious-looking busts of men who clearly disapproved of late arrivals and weak wine. One walks out feeling that the Romans basically invented everything except Wi-Fi and sunscreen.

And then, of course, Spain’s other extraordinary chapter: the impact of the Muslims. The elegance, the architecture, the science, the refinement. If the Romans were about straight lines and empire, the Moors were about geometry, grace and making everything look as though it belonged in a palace. Honestly, between the two of them, they’ve set the bar quite high for the rest of us.

Once culturally enriched (and slightly museum-weary), we stepped back into the sunshine and began the noble Mediterranean quest for refreshment. In Alicante, this is less a challenge and more a hobby. A cool drink was located with remarkable speed. Hydration achieved. Civilisation preserved.

Lunch was at Indian House, a place I had visited a few years ago on the glowing recommendation of friends. I am pleased to report that it remains gloriously dependable. Fragrant curries, warm naan, and the comforting knowledge that spice levels can be negotiated diplomatically. I shall most certainly return when the occasion arises – or when I simply fancy pretending I am on the subcontinent while actually in Alicante.

We then trammed our way home, arriving at the exceedingly civilised hour of 5pm. At this point, dear reader, I embraced one of the great pillars of Southern European culture: the nap. From 5pm to 6pm, I was unavailable for comment.

At 6pm sharp: apéritif. One must maintain standards.

The evening followed a reassuring pattern similar to the previous day – sunshine fading, conversation flowing, glasses refilled with the sort of generosity that suggests optimism about tomorrow. And once again, after a couple of robust nightcaps (purely for digestive purposes, you understand), I was the first to retire. Not defeated, merely… efficient.

All in all: an interesting, sunny, historically rich day. The Romans would have approved of our infrastructure. The Moors would have admired the arches. And I feel fairly certain both would have endorsed the nightcaps.