After a long, all-day walk, nothing beats the discovery of a grubby little dive bar to relax and drink in. And it’s even better when said establishment immediately accepts you as an honorary local, while the whole time the real locals loll about drunk despite it still being early doors on a Monday.
Factors that basically made it the perfect place for a thoroughly enjoyable evening.
One which involved comically pronounced coarseness in English. At table, rather than in toilet, vomiting. Plus perhaps most surprising of all, a perplexing marriage proposal of sorts.
Then, a good few hours after arriving, everyone stumbled out. All soothed by the booze consumed, along with equally reassuring feeling that they’d be there again the following day to do it all over again.