We found our language school while out on a stroll with our friend Rick - I think we were on our way to Bar Celta, again. Tapas! Cava! Pulpa! Can't get enough of that place!
The signs out front indicated a language school, but it looked more like a bookstore, with the Spanish version of Hank Jenkins in mod clothes behind the counter, swaying to the Smiths. Bingo! Home! There is a hallway at that back of the bookstore that leads to a whole school -- multiple classrooms, office, bathrooms, the whole shebang.
We trooped in, and not only were they friendly, affordable, and awesome, but we could both start on Tuesday (25th May). Two days of classes and I'm thrilled. Being able to roll my r's is a real blessing, and having crazy patient and funny teachers is a second. Sean is in a more advanced class, and is learning how to string his much-more-advanced vocabulary together correctly. Our gym is called Holmes Place and is just a jaunt away. They have loads of classes that I have yet to be brave enough to try. My Espanol doesn't cover physical directions or parts of the body yet. Ha! I'm going to give the Pilates classes a try as I think I fake along OK in that one. Then again, maybe trying to survive the 'Body Combat' class would do wonders for my command of the language. Ahem. I'll keep you posted.
No comments:
Post a Comment