I spent last weekend in Fuengirola, a seaside town on Andalusia’s Mediterranean coast. Successive waves of cultures and subcultures have shaped this Spanish region, each leaving its imprint in indelible ways. Yet what struck me even more than the pristine blue waters and fusion architecture was a unique conversational practice. Across Fuengirola’s restaurants, I kept noticing the same thing: tables where the meal had clearly ended but no one was leaving. Plates pushed aside, napkins crumpled, empty wine glasses catching the afternoon light. Yet the diners sat back in their chairs, wholly absorbed in conversation, leaning forward to make a point, throwing their heads back in laughter, gesturing with the easy rhythm of people who have nowhere else to be. The Spaniards call this sobremesa. The word itself joins sobre (‘over’) and mesa (‘table’) to capture the lingering hours when conversation outlasts the meal.
When was the last time you had such a conversation? If you can’t remember, it may be an indulgence well worth your time. Modern work culture has trained us to see unstructured time as waste. Lunch breaks shrink into desk meals. Coffee meetings come with agendas. Even social gatherings often feel like networking opportunities in disguise. I am not advocating taking three-hour lunch breaks in the middle of the workday, but rather making a case for more agenda-free conversations when feasible.
Montaigne believed conversation was the highest form of human exchange, and watching these unhurried diners, I think I understand why. Sobremesa embodies what philosophers call “dwelling”, being fully present rather than constantly moving toward the next task. It asks a simple but radical question: what if the point of time isn’t always to accomplish something?
Of course, getting stuff done matters. If we are running against time, a long, meandering conversation would be a distraction. That said, our efficiency-driven culture at work can weaken our conversational muscles outside work. We become so accustomed to purposeful exchanges that we lose fluency in the art of talking for its own sake. When every interaction is designed to extract or deliver information efficiently, we gradually forget how to simply enjoy each other’s company without an outcome in mind.
The irony is obvious: we optimise our schedules to save time, then fill every saved minute with more tasks. But what’s the point of efficiency if not to create space for what matters? Some of that hard-won time should go toward the simple pleasure of unhurried conversation with people we care about.
A few years back, I realised my optimised calendar was hollowing out my relationships. Even though I was subconsciously aware of what was going on, I struggled to do anything about it. I realised it the hard way when I didn’t have anything substantive to say to a dear friend I was meeting after a long pandemic-induced pause. We sat there, two people who had once talked for hours, now struggling to fill the silence.
It’s not complicated: we need to practice being inefficient with colleagues and friends we care about. Many of us may think that we already do that, but data suggests otherwise. To give you an example, 57 per cent of Europeans aged 18-35 report feeling lonely. Conversational efficiency could be one of the causal factors. Schedule meals that run long. Take walks with no destination. Have coffee dates with no agenda beyond enjoying each other’s company.
This weekend in Fuengirola reminded me that some of life’s most meaningful moments happen not when we’re rushing toward something, but when we choose to stay put and savour where we are.
