Why is there so much shit in Malaga?
I mean, actual POO.
“POO!” my friend Rich and I yell at various intervals of his three day trip to visit me. I did warn him Malaga wasn’t the prettiest town on the Costa del Sol but I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect to be tag team scanning the walkway in front of us for smeared patches of doggie-doodoo while the other gazed at the traditional balconies and coloured flower boxes that are just one of the reasons I love living in Spain.
Then the other day I was merrily tucking into a salad from I-Won’t-Say-Which-Cafe when I glance down, the fork halfway to my mouth and wonder why that broken spinach leaf is grey and crusty. I’m not sure if it’s broken because I just ate some or if that’s how it came but the question takes on urgent importance when I realise the grey crustiness is birdy doo-doo. In my salad.
The two waiters were Spanishly casual about the whole affair, talking over each other to, presumably, explain that there was not – as one may suppose – a bird wandering around the kitchen pooping in the food but rather that the cook was simply lazy and hadn’t bothered to wash the leaves before placing them in the salad. It didn’t make it me feel any better.
There’s absolutely no point to this blog I just wanted to share the fact that I very nearly, or actually did and I just don’t know it, ate bird shit today. That stuff’s full of protein right??
PS: for all my email subscribers, I just found this in my archives and wanted to post it cos I think it’s funny. Yes it’s from a few months ago.