los tres amigos, day 6: bahía dorada/the worst food/pointing at gibraltar.

As we were leaving Chiringuito Bahía Beach, the English-speaking person at the table in front of us hissed at her dining companion as they stood up to leave: "That was the worst food..."

Well, what we had wasn't "the worst food", but it was not one of the more-satisfying meals I've had in Spain. My tuna was just kind of dumped in a plate with a cut onion and some tomatoes. I mean: unsurprisingly great tuna, but I could've purchased and opened the tuna jar and cut the onion myself for about €7 less. DJ Potato's gambas pil-pil wasn't as good as the one from Bodega San Francisco two nights ago and was twice as expensive. It's kind of bad when you're at a seafood restaurant and the best thing at the table is the vegetarian person's not-on-the-menu pasta with cream sauce.  

But hey I'm not moaning! Really: the wine was crisp and dry, the company was predictably incomparable, and we were still at the beach. In Spain.

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