Chocolat

Monday morning.
Bright, sunny, bit of cumulus here and there
North easterly, right into the balcony, a joile brise, as they'd say up north.
Never been here in a NEly before.
A proper change of direction and thoughts of Chocolat. Not the brown stuff but the film.
Time for a change.
Time to make a move.
Time to go home.

No shopping to do bar a card for "Loli" and some flowers to leave on the table but that's for tomorrow. Just slung the last of the fridge fodder in the frying pan, half a bottle of tomato frito, a drop of red and simmered it for a while. Leave if for a few hours to develop or whatever it is that food does. Another variation on the slop my spectacle providing sister showed me years ago. No chili sauce, though.
All that's left to do is the spaghetti tonight and that's the cooking finished.

Wandering aimlessly about town, apart from card shopping, where the farmacia signs were pretty much agreed on 14 we thought of ending our sojourn with a full on sit down restaurant meal tomorrow night.

Down along the prom there are various restaurants, none of the local ones open in the evenings yet and the others seem to display north European languages and photos of their offerings. It is a principle that we only rarely dispense with that if a restaurant needs photos of their food we'll pass. Besides, buergeurs, one of umpteen spellings on a board with bingo and beer is not really our sort of place for a last night out.

Exactly what we were looking for

There is an Italian which we thought of last year (but ended up in Alicante instead) which we considered as our only option. Mainly because it is.

Tuesday Closed for rest

We made our way there, hesitated at the market as it has a kind of magnetism that is hard to resist, and consulted the menu behind a glass screen.

Offerings, excellent, price, reasonable, opening times, convenient.

Hang on, Lunes, Mericoles, Jeuves, Viernes, Sabbado, Domingo. Where's Martes?

North easterly winds of change.
Yup, time to go.