The relationship between this place or rather nameless hole in the wall and me was love at first sight.
Maybe it was the blonde Italian B-767 flight attendant at the bar that attracted me first, but soon enough she was into the black bartender and I was into the mood of the place while nurturing a cigar and a Santiago 7.
It had been recommended to me last year, but I didn't have the time.
This year I had and, what can I say, I am a regular there by now, greeted with a hand-shake and even the young local cop will hide inside behind a pillar and have a drink on me.
The guys behind the counter which serves as a bar, kitchen, washing-place, garbage dump et al are all really great characters and they won't give a **** who you are or how important you think you or your wallet are.
After all, as it says on the blackboard : Hemingway was never here ...
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