Hold the sea bass
We´re flying off tonight.
Nopisto informs me that I´d better not be expecting much from the seafood in Plymouth. Never mind. I never make it to the good restaurants when I´m England. I´m too much in love with their bread.
I start off with toast for breakfast, and a couple of sausages with jam, to be on the safe side, because tourism really takes it out of you.
I´m pretty quick to adapt to local times, and am ravenous by one. Sandwich shops lure me in with their mindboggling array of fillings and breads and pasties. And by five o´clock, well, it would be flying in the face of providence not to have a couple of finger sandwiches and a scone, right?
So who cares about fish restaurants? I won´t be wanting seared scallops on a bed of mesclun. I´ll settle for fish and chips, lots of malt vinegar, sitting on the pier. And maybe a couple of apples, and a Double Decker bar.
I´m back on Wednesday, but maybe I´ll be able to dash off a quick post at some point.