The Boy and The Coconut Tree

I had dinner last night at a restaurant/café near to where I am staying in the centre of Barcelona, on Gran Via de Catalanes. I sat outside to watch the world go by as the restaurant was close to Urgull metro. Dinner was not worth mentioning, a bog standard fixed price menu, 11 euros; I don’t recall what I had. I do remember the events and sights around me though. To my right sat an older English couple who had ordered a lot of food, enough Paella for 4 people and various other things. They ate for a while, I heard raised voice in, what I think was, a Birmingham accent then the woman wandered off in a bad mood, I presume to her hotel but she seemed unsure. The man continued to eat and looked more relaxed than he had before the argument. The restaurant was getting busier and by 930pm all the tables on the terrace were full. Now they call it a terrace but really it is the pavement with some chairs and tables, terrace is far too grand a word for the reality of sitting a metre away ...