After a late night, you feel like you have to take it easy. So I did.

Wandering aimlessly around the city, I went on a quest for food and somewhere cheap. The latter is nearly impossible here. That’s the only real downside. Probably more expensive than Barcelona. Don’t expect this post to blow you away, my day mainly consisted of searching for a place where I could eat for under a tenner. That didn’t happen.

Instead, I settled for 11 euros. For three courses. How could I refuse? In many restaurants in Spain, there is a “Menu Del Dia” or Menu of the Day. These are used to attract workers who are free for lunchtime, allowing them to eat something large for a cheap price. These are also great for tourists with not a lot of money, like me.

There, I had paella in my first dish, expecting a Tapas-ish size of plate. It turned out to be massive. I was so shocked by how much food I was getting, that I had to double check that it was 11 euros. Paranoia kicked in. The paella had chicken and chorizo and I think I can safely say that chorizo is among my favourite meats. The chicken is still on the bone, which isn’t my cup of tea, but the dish as a whole was nice. And I sat and watched The Simpsons in Spanish. So all was well.


And so was the second dish. A humongous tortilla de patatas, a.k.a. Spanish omelette with potatoes. By the time I finished it, I was completely full, but only eating for the sake of getting my money’s worth. You know what the old saying is, there’s always room for ice cream.


Chocolate ice cream and a free beer would do the trick. I left in a zen-like state. I checked out parts of the beach in between dodging some bad weather, and came back to a familiar group in the courtyard at the hostel. There were some new faces, but some that I had met already. And even more Australians.


It’s difficult to remember particular moments from the night if I’m completely honest. The only thing I can completely remember is recreating the life scene from Dirty Dancing. I weigh less than ten stone, so you could probably tell who I was playing. We hung out at the same place as the night before, the steps at the church. It’s worth mentioning that it’s illegal to drink in the streets of Spain, but the police really don’t care. As long as you aren’t being too crazy, they will leave you alone.

And there’s a guy with the same name as me. That’s cool.

Groceries: 7 euros.
Dinner: 11 euros.
Gifts: 5 euros.

Breakfast: Apple, biscuits. Lunch: Spanish omelette, paella, ice cream. Dinner: Homemade pasta with chorizo.

June 26


Author: Michael Houston

Freelance journalist. Love all things film, sport, music and wrasslin. Multimedia Journalism graduate from Glasgow Caledonian University.

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