Sunday. A write-off. It is a bad egg. You don't care for it. A ginger child. A black potato. Or a purple one. Yes, when bored today we head to a tenedor libre, or all-you-can-eat barbecue, fresh from the grill, here-have-some-intestines. Thats what it meant in Argentina, anyway. Here its something different. It's an all-you-can-eat-buffet, which is very different.
These are some damn big mussels. Very fishy and stuffed with seaweed, but they were cooked in a big pot with sausages and clams and some sort of broth. None of the buffet was particularly hot, which might not have helped the seafood, but at least someone came back out and relit the camphor lamps. We sampled mashed potatoes for the first time down here, and they were ok. The yams were ok, barbecued, but they were purple through and through and that made them weird eating, whether smokey or not. $8000 is just short of a tenner, and you get five or six big bain maries of meat and rice and potatoes to pick from. You also get some awful music, like Travis' 'Flowers In The Window' to listen to. The other guests in this hotel restaurant get up and leave, not many join us. We are excited by the salad bar as much as the free meat. There is a particularly good salad of onions and sliced peppers.
Sadly the ugly buffet doesn't treat Sarah very well. Either that or the festering infection in her big toe. Somewhere between the 11km walk and stubbing her toe on a bed, Sarah has got a bad toe. Its circulating through her body and it isn't nice. We mess around on the public exercise equipment, but quickly head back to the hostel.
I watch the Sevilla v Barcelona game, another bloody whitewash, and Sarah sleeps. She never really recovers for the rest of the day, and I make some ugly music.
I don't need to tell you to be very careful with possibly dodgy seafood -remember Michael Winner - but I'll remind you anyway.
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