A rest day, in Oviedo.
The Pablos are having lunch in the Plaza Escandalera.
Near the fountain, in front of Casa Conde.
The Pablos have brought snacks. Empanadas, croquetas, almondras fritas....
The Kroombit tinker has joined them.
Pablo ( our Pablo) offers her an empanada.
What's in it? asks the tinker.
Pork and vegetables says Pablo.
No, thank you, says the tinker.
Does anyone know what happened to Baby Pierre yesterday? asks a second Pablo.
The third and fourth Pablos shake their heads.
I'm not worried about him, says the tinker.
Perhaps he's feeling offended, says Pablo.
He laughed when I told him you'd asked me to try and rein him in, says the tinker.
Do I smell hot chocolate? asks a Pablo.
No, says another of the Pablos. Shall I go and buy churros?
Yes go, says the Pablo.
Get something for me, says the tinker.
Like what? asks the Pablo who is going.
Insect, worm, spider, says the tinker. I'm not bothered.
The Pablo goes off. Perhaps he'll see a spider in the churro shop.
What if he fell down a ravine? asks the fourth Pablo.
He is a reckless speeder, says the tinker. He might well have.
Imagine that, says Pablo (our Pablo). He may be lying in a ravine of the Cuitu Negru amongst countless other pebbles.
With his green o-wheels, says the tinker.
Does he speak Spanish? asks the fourth Pablo.
Not usually, says the tinker.
Ever? asks the fourth Pablo.
Why do you ask? asks the tinker.
The other pebbles will speak Spanish, says the Pablo. And if he doesn't, he can't ask them for help.
It should be obvious to the other pebbles that a newly-fallen pebble with a bicycle at the bottom of their ravine needed help, says the tinker.
A delicious aroma of hot chocolate and churros fills the air, distracting everyone.
The Pablo who went for the churros has come back.
Each of the Pablos grabs a churro and dips it in the hot chocolate. Mmmm. Cielo!
Anything for me? asks the tinker.
The shop was too clean, says the Pablo. But I thought you might like to try these chicharrones.
He tips a few from a paper bag, in front of the tinker.
They are curly, like grubs.
She eats several before realising they must be fried pork rinds.
O yuck.
O well.
O hay.
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