11th June
Took a trip to La Palmar beach and a fish restaurant J and S knew to be good for 'lunch' at 4 o clock.
We checked out Trafalgar Bay first (where Nelson lost his life) as we had believed it would be more sheltered - the wind was wicked today. It was actually more windy here, so we settled on having a beer at Las Dunas cafe, an interesting cobbled building with a sand roof. Inside wooden and thatch vaulted ceilings, heavy plank tables and an open BBQ area still smelling of burnt charcoal, and an outside garden with another bar - all in all a great atmosphere finished off nicely by the music: Harry Nilson singing Mr Bojangles. All very old hippy stuff.
As we walked into the place someone pulled up on a dilapidated scooter and dismounted slowly. Without staring I was convinced it was Keith Richards; an extremely haggard face with a wide gnarly mouth, wearing bandana and hat, lots of rings and bracelets and a general air of dishevellment! Was it?! He wandered through the bar and out through the garden with a couple of people saying hallo to him on the way and we never saw him again. Probably an incredible look-a-like - who knows?
On to la Palmar, a short sit on the beach in a fierce hot wind, a dip in the Atlantic. Not cold to us Brits, Simone! And then into the El Cortijiro for boquerones, calamari (tasty, not the rubber bands we get at home) and fresh tuna. Yummy.
Back to our casitas for a swim and more vino. Whoo hoo.
How not to get on a lilo
El Palmar
The rather large owner of the cafe - fish diet not for him obviously!
Jack sensibly topping up on her water intake.
Took a trip to La Palmar beach and a fish restaurant J and S knew to be good for 'lunch' at 4 o clock.
We checked out Trafalgar Bay first (where Nelson lost his life) as we had believed it would be more sheltered - the wind was wicked today. It was actually more windy here, so we settled on having a beer at Las Dunas cafe, an interesting cobbled building with a sand roof. Inside wooden and thatch vaulted ceilings, heavy plank tables and an open BBQ area still smelling of burnt charcoal, and an outside garden with another bar - all in all a great atmosphere finished off nicely by the music: Harry Nilson singing Mr Bojangles. All very old hippy stuff.
As we walked into the place someone pulled up on a dilapidated scooter and dismounted slowly. Without staring I was convinced it was Keith Richards; an extremely haggard face with a wide gnarly mouth, wearing bandana and hat, lots of rings and bracelets and a general air of dishevellment! Was it?! He wandered through the bar and out through the garden with a couple of people saying hallo to him on the way and we never saw him again. Probably an incredible look-a-like - who knows?
On to la Palmar, a short sit on the beach in a fierce hot wind, a dip in the Atlantic. Not cold to us Brits, Simone! And then into the El Cortijiro for boquerones, calamari (tasty, not the rubber bands we get at home) and fresh tuna. Yummy.
Back to our casitas for a swim and more vino. Whoo hoo.
How not to get on a lilo
El Palmar
The rather large owner of the cafe - fish diet not for him obviously!
Jack sensibly topping up on her water intake.
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