Yet another stunning morning in Estepona. I could really get used to waking up at 10:00am to a sunny sky and birds singing. I throw on a T-shirt and shorts, make coffee in the French press and sit on the patio with my book.

If I can figure out how to access the photos on my tablet to attach one, I'll show you my view.

Two days ago we drove the twisty road from the coast up into the mountains of Ronda for lunch. At €65 for the two of us it might have been one of the most expensive bare bones lunches I've ever had.  It started with bread and butter, which I know from traveling in Greece and Italy is an extra cost unless you refuse it. We hadn't encountered that yet in Spain so that was a €4 slip. I ordered a simple ensalada mixta at €6 but was told by the waiter that the house specialty salad offered much more and we could share it. Thinking it was like the little greens salad I wanted but with some veg thrown in I agreed to the upgrade. The new salad had no greens at all. Instead it was made up of grilled red peppers, chunks of tuna and anchovy slivers. It was indeed large enough to share, but since Andrew doesn't like fish it was all on me to eat it. He ate a couple of the peppers and declared them too fishy so left the rest. That was some €15 fishy salad.

Our mains arrived. Mine was an American sized plate of artichokes with the odd bit of cured ham thrown in to shake things up, and smothered in a ceamy sauce, too rich to finish. Andrew's steak and fries was also American sized but at least tasty. All that was washed down with a couple of cold beers. Being on a sun-filled patio in one of the most historic cities in Spain, in a plaza where Ernest Hemingway likely walked a hundred times, on a Monday is pretty satisfying. But when the bill came we were shocked at how quickly our simple meal added up, exceeding anything we had paid for at a dinner out and even the grocery bill. After that everything we priced became a reflection of the expensive lunch. As in, 'that boat is for sale at just 100 lunches.', 'those groceries were half a lunch.' And so on.

We soon learned that the portions for all meals are huge and have yet to run into the tapas sized plates we've been expecting. Maybe it's the heavy British influence in this area, I dunno. At home we often share one main when we eat out and I think we'll be doing more of that here.

In my last blog post I said I'd talk about ways the Spanish conserve electricity. Similar to what we've seen in Canada there is a big movement to compact fluorescent lights. The overhead lights in our Spain apartment cast a bleak unpleasant glow that is pretty much the exact wrong light to apply make up under. Reminds me of the lights department stores use in their change rooms. Horrible for trying on bathing suits. Perfect for locating cellulite.

Outside our apartment door we have glowing light switches that we press to light our way along the stairs at night. Someone has timed it perfectly, estimating exactly how much time it takes to get from the top (where our apartment is) to the bottom. Stopping to talk to a neighbour or pet Hulk, our downstairs neighbour's English bulldog, guarantees the lights will go out before reaching our destination.

However, I appreciate the efforts to conserve. The underground parking garage should have a motion detector but doesn't. Instead, in the middle of the day it is pitch black and soothingly cool. We use the car headlights to park in the teeny parking spot then have to run over to press the light switch on the wall to turn on the lights so we can empty the car. We have about 1 minute to get over to the stairs or elevator before the lights turn off. One day, some poor bugger was trying to change his tire in the dark. The Canadian in me immediately wondered how safe that car will be on the road, but then I remembered that this is Spain and they're less uptight about some things here.

First couple of days. First couple of observations

My first trip to Spain was only 17 months ago and I was only here for about three days which were tacked on before and after to a motorcycle trip I was taking around Morocco.

From Toronto, I flew into Malaga via Paris both trips. The first trip, my luggage didn't get lost, but I digress.

What I knew without a doubt after my first trip here was that it wouldn't be long before I was back to see more of this beautiful country.

This time, my boyfriend and I have rented a cute little apartment for 10 days, just outside downtown Estepona. It's perfect for us - not in the hustle and bustle of a noisy city, but close enough to walk to it, and with a view of the ocean. Today, in March, it is a sunny 21 degrees Celsius outside. Certainly not the -21 we left in Canada.

So, some of the things I love about Spain - and western Europe in general, is how compact things are. The apartment isn't tiny by any means but the layout is efficient without excess. People here don't need giant fridges because they shop for groceries every couple of days or eat out. Which makes for fresher ingredients.

Our first night here, after a very long day (the day of lost luggage), exhausted, we dropped our things off, admired the view and hopped in the car to get groceries. We picked up staples and enjoyed one of our favourite meals, a fresh charcuterie plate of cured meats, cheeses, grilled veggies and fresh French bread. And of course, a big glass of wine. Heavenly.

 It's not like I'm not able to easily get all of these ingredients at home in Toronto, it's just that for some reason I don't. And when I do, they don't seem as authentic. This morning I opened the fridge and realized that the savory smell of leftover meats and grilled veggies makes me really feel like I'm in Europe. 

Living on a fairly small section of a continent means you have to make allowances and concessions. There is no doubt, it takes extra work to live in a small space. 

There is no room for giant landfills so everyone recycles. It is a way of life. And because space is limited, excess packaging is almost non existent. I don't know if people demanded it, or if it was the government or the manufacturers, but it happened and it just makes so much sense! 

Listen up, North America. I don't want to buy toilet paper with only 160 sheets on the roll and have the manufacturer try to trick me into believing it's a 'double roll'. I'm buying rolls here with more than 400 THICK sheets of paper. It might sound like a small thing, but it isn't. That small move means less cost to package, store and transport, and it takes up less room in the small apartment closets and in landfills, errr, I mean recycling bins since this is Spain. 

And surprisingly, the larger rolls of paper products here are much less expensive than in North America. Not sure why that is, yet.

Milk comes in Tetra packs and can be stored on shelves not in small home fridges, which also means there are fewer, smaller, electricity-sucking refrigerators in grocery stores. 

And as we've seen in North America, there is a large selection of ultra concentrated liquid soaps, but these are 3x concentrated not the pseudo 2x we have back home.

Next blog post, I'll talk about the smart ways Europeans save on their electricity. Innovative and universally accepted...