3: emergency cádiz, part uno.

Oh, El Puerto. I wanted to love you, I did. But my stomach hurt and you were too slump-shouldered, too sad, too defeated, too much for me to worry about because I could only worry about myself at that moment.

So we drove 6 miles away to Cádiz:

Well, wait: that view is from the extremely undepressing rooftop pool at our non-Airbnb hotel. With air conditioning. Air conditioning that almost worked allllll night long.

But I digress. Before we saw the overview of Cádiz from the rooftop luxury pit, we had to park. Behold, Juan the desk clerk, who also answered the doorbell, guiding us into the one-small-car-sized parking elevator that is exactly as small as it looks.


Then we went for a refreshing beverage and the best food of the trip so far I think, Thank Fucking God, at Ultramar&Nos. salmorejo verde; a wonderfully retro scallops Rockefeller: a wafer-thin red pepper lasagna; and a provocative ceviche with corn, peach, dandelion, tjalapenos and some other interesting things.


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