We have left the English cabinet of horrors, the El Dorado of the Anglo-Saxon proles, with the requests, Scots and Irish, called Langostinos by the Spaniards, San Antonio behind us.
Langostinos arrive white, lie down in the sun, are then bright red and pain-numbingly drunk for the rest of the holiday).
The reason to visit this place of terror was that Bertel broke his glasses again, we had to go to an optician and the next one was in San Antonio.
Michi is also part of the party and the two boys wanted to convince themselves that San Antonio doesn't get any prettier at night either.
When they left I preferred to stay on board and watch a nice, chewy love story because I've never really been into horror!
At some point during the night, the boys came back with scared, ashen faces, commenting that they hadn't managed to get their San Antonio booze nice!
By the way, dear friends, out of consideration for your aesthetic sensibilities, we have not included pictures of San Antonio and the Langostinos.