1308. Wed 15/6/22: Casa Manteca, Cádiz

Beer: Mahou 5.0%

Second, and almost certainly last, CM visit this trip: it was base camp last time, not so much this. Not sure why… I don’t love it that much less. Perhaps it’s because it was just a little bit more local last time.

Anyway, still, this is a great place – the fact that this is no secret means it gets too packed of an evening, but at 3:20pm on a Wednesday afternoon its lovely.

We sit in front bar and examine the photographs and press clippings on the walls – we look at the folk pictured therein and attempt to work out the lineage of the Manteca family.

1312. Wed 15/6/22: Bar Galicia, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

It’s getting late. Our last night, our last bar, in Cádiz. We’ve been here before – on a night that was far rainier than tonight.

Decent locals’ bar, near the seawalls. Fantastic place, Cádiz.

My notes suggest SA and I engaged in “a half-hearted Brexit argument” – glad to say I can’t remember anything about that.

We’ve had enough, though, we need to get back to our apartment.

1298. Mon 13/6/22: Marisquería Las Flores 1, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

I’ve been told off, rightly, I suppose, for foregoing eats on holiday. It’s a fair shout.

It’s a fraught walk back from Casa Mateca via El Faro (too packed) to Las Flores. I get further rebuked for walking too fast but, once I’ve somewhere to eat, it’s all going to be fine.

We order cuttlefish and cod and dogfish – and a couple of beers (we’re not here for the beer).

The food is fine – the beer? We’re not here for the beer.

Them that work at Freiduria (fried fish emporiums) wear work shirts embroidered with the name of the establishment stitched out a seemingly generic “Freiduria” logo – which is the word “Freiduria” in a font (similar to the front cover font on Rubber Soul) stretched out for resemble a fish. It’s similar to some of the Jesus fish logos one can often see on Bible bashers’ back bumpers back in Blighty. I think Jesus would be fine with Spanish fried fish emporiums sharing the style – he was into fish wasn’t he? That’s just my humble opinion. I cannot, I simply will not, speak for the wider Christian community.

1296. Mon 13/6/22: Sportium en Salón Recreativo Bahía, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

We’ve just been to the local Carrefour Express to buy provisions for our three-night stay. My reckoning, that I’d be ok to stay out from afternoon to mid-evening, has changed to “a couple of hours siesta might be nice”.

In the meantime, the complex taste of Cruzcampo… There’s lots going on there – and not all of it is bad. More than enough is though. Apologies. I moan about it every Andalusian trip, but it’s better than the likes of John Smiths and Doom Bar back in the UK isn’t it?

The bar is over the road from a care home for the elderly. This appears to be the time of day when relatives come to collect them for a stroll round Cádiz, or to the family home for a meal. Some of those old folk are very decrepit. Poor blighters. We’re all heading that way.

I’m at least half cut. The aircon in our digs works well (much better than the unit in Jerez). It’ll be nice to get up there for a little sleep.

1310. Wed 15/6/22: Taberna Casa Torres, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

An evening walk out, of La Cervecería del Mercado, on our last night in Cádiz, becomes something of an aimless meander. I suggest, if we continue, we’re heading back to Casa Manteca – the best bar in Cádiz, I’d suggest, but do we really want to go again? We were only there this afternoon. I don’t mind, but… we spot this place is open and we dive in to review the situation.

Very bright in here. There are hams hanging up. The hung ham seems, to me, increasingly rare lately.

The bar seems oriented toward a loyal local clientele. The barlady is smiley, affable and something of a livewire. Her customers seem quietly entertained. She serves us up Cruzcampo in Perrier glasses – which seems a nice quirky touch to me.

331. Tue 13/3/18: Rest. Marisquería Las Flores 1, Cádiz, Spain

Beer: San Miguel 5.0%

We return to the fishy place from the first evening. Again, more soberly but possibly less successfully, we order tortillas de camarones and chipirones. Shrimp fritters and deep fried little squid. It’s all hot and greasy and cheap and cheerful; no frills, and there’s probably posher places which do it better, but it’s delicious.

We sit at the bar. Pigeons venture into the doorway, furtively looking for scraps – the sparrows are far more adventurous and seem to have free rein of the establishment.

339. Wed 14/3/18: Bar Casa Tucho, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

Bar on the nice little triangular, possibly achingly trendy, Plaza Mentidero.

Barca v Chelsea is on the box. There’s only a half hour gone and it’s 2-0 (3-1 on aggregate) already. Not sure if it’s true for diehard Real Madrid and Barcelona fans – but folk in Spanish bars tend by default to favour Spanish teams. On the other hand, unless they’re playing Watford (when I’m happy for them to fill their boots), there’s very few games I want Man U or Man City or Chelsea or Arsenal to win. That said, I feel much the same about Real Madrid and Barcelona… multi-millionaire football bores me.

The bar owner (like almost every bar owner whose bar décor ventures such an opinion) supports Cádiz – or at least he’s framed photographs of his minor relatives in local team colours – specifically baby Dolores.

We sit at the bar, and I take the same kind of boring picture of a little glass of beer with some olives that I always take EXCEPT this picture includes a loaf of sliced bread too. Someone, presumably an employee, has just left it on the bar; the pic hopefully suggests at a somewhat cavalier attitude toward mise en scène in your typical Spanish bar. There often seems to be something, in the customer area of the pub/area, which maybe ought not to be there. I find it a vaguely endearing quality.

There seem to be more staff in here than customers. Almost all are glued to the telly. The only couple not glued to the telly are young and, as it turns out as they go to pay at the bar, American. I reckon he’s from the military base over the bay. He has an attractive girlfriend/wife who is significantly taller than he is. He’s a day tripper, an ostentatious over-tipper.

We tend not to tip for simple bar service – but reserve the right to bicker a bit about tipping (see entry 335).

327. Mon 12/3/18: Cerveceria El Montadito, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

Bar seemingly entirely populated by single men engrossed in phones and books.

It’s dark in here.

Barstaff are glued to the telly – and the ongoing Almeria murder news story it’s reporting. The rolling news channels show the same footage, time after time after time…

We moan about the incessant Sky Sports News coverage in British pubs; it’s relentless and trivial, but maybe it’s better than this.

There are some nice big, tourist friendly, maps of Cádiz on the wall. We spend a little time trying to work out a route for tomorrow – before sitting back and watching footage of the lady in the red hoodie being taken away in a police car… for the umpteenth time this evening.

338. Wed 14/3/18: Café Bar Liba, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

Our first post-siesta Cruzcampo in a little bar near Plaza San Antonio. It’s small, bright, clean and understated. There’s an ugly little dog sat, apparently guarding the toilets; while some old lag stands at the bar ready to talk at anyway who’ll listen. We don’t speak his language, so he doesn’t bother us.

There’s a subtle bullfighting theme to the décor, from which I learn that the Cádiz Plaza da Toros opened in 1929 and closed in 1967.

322. Mon 12/3/18: La Bombilla, Cádiz

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

We walk around Cádiz in the morning, and it’s mid-afternoon before we’re looking for a beer. My notes suggest that we’re quite picky, we keep ending up at the market, and most bars around there look “a bit up their own arse”. You know the kind of place.

La Bombilla looks alright though – Semana Santa and Cádiz Festival posters on the wall, flamenco music et al… I suppose many would see all that as deplorable cliché, but I’m sold.

Steph doesn’t seem so enthusiastic; adamant that we’re only staying for one. Then, as we’re preparing to leave – she goes over to the bar and gets another in. It’s mind games, I reckon, she’s playing.

Picture shows proprietor of La Bombilla sticking a new Semana Santa poster up with (the adhesive of choice for the sacred purpose, we’ve found) sellotape.