13: tarifa to malaga.

Terrible sleep. And the beginning of what would be roughly a week of terrible sleep. Nonetheless, by morning Tarifa was back to its pleasant, boring, empty self. Right outside our bnb was a churros place, it seemed that fate was finally ready to let us have churros for breakfast.





Then a drive across town to "a nice place with free Wifi where surfers hang out, plus there's sushi." Mmm, well, no, not til dinner there's not. Commence slow-building Death Mope. This was maybe 13:00. We had to pick up the puber in Estepona and be at the Malaga airport by 18:00. We didn't have tons of time to fuck around is what I'm saying.



So I had the super idea to go check out this picturesque little hotel that we kept passing, they probably had food right? Back in the car, drive for 15 minutes or something.



It was not quite as cute up close, more calculated to look cute than honestly cute. Good fonts though.

And I'm all, well then yeah I think we should find somewhere else. This is how Death Mopes happen. You think you can "do better". So I'm frantically poking around and cursing at TripAdvisor, while we're driving basically back to Zahara de los Atunes, the wrong direction. Something flashes across the screen, it's Italian, the safest vegetarian cuisine in Spain, ok ok pull over.

We end up in the parking lot of Osteria Del Sole, which reallllly doesn't look like much, but we are out of time, and the 17 seconds worth of research I did said it was wonderful.

 

















And yes, lucky as hell. That's ravioli with asparagus and saffron cream, it's as good as it looks. It was all good, truly Italian. Then we hit the road, off to the airport.