Thursday, 14 February 2013

Fuerteventura: II

As I write, it is sunny and quite warm this morning, at eight-fifty. The waves are rolling in, vigorous and white-crested; a Fred Olsen ferry approaches the little port.

Last night I dined at The Temple Restaurant. John, the restaurateur, was off, so his partner Sharon was managing the place.

The resort generally appears quiet; many bars and restaurants have only a few diners. Survival of the fittest, I suppose; sorts out the wheat from the chaff, and all that rot.

I gave Sharon the eight potato farls and white pudding I'd brought over from the UK. Later she asked me how much I owed her. I smiled and told her that it was my treat.

I had the sea-bass with a Hollandaise sauce, accompanied with little potatoes in their skins, carrot, cherry tomatoes and green beans.

I do like sea bass: such an inoffensive fish; mild and complemented well by a rich, creamy sauce.

I'd already indulged in a few Tanqueays back at Belmont GHQ, so I drank cola light.

I pretty girl called Sarah accosted me on the way home. She was touting for business outside her employer's restaurant. Perhaps I'll see Sarah again today.

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