I’m kind of annoyed with myself. I had seen a new account pop up on Instagram for a very typical old-style tapas bar in Triana. It had a cute logo and seemed to be keen on interacting online, so I decided to go try it out. Because as much as I love many of the new innovative bars and restaurants in Sevilla, my heart belongs to the traditional tapas bars. Anyhow, on Wednesday I asked Peter if he wanted to go there with me and at first he said he didn’t really feel like going out, but in the end I convinced him that a walk and some nice food would do him good. Plus I had a nice “take away” for him to pick up on the way home.

And yes, it was a nice walk. We stopped for a quick cold beer en route and then managed to get the last available table at our destination (inside, but next to an open door and window). Unfortunately the food wasn’t great, but that wasn’t the reason I ended up regretting going. At first everything seemed fine, with all the waiters wearing masks and there were only three tables inside, spaced well enough apart. But then half-way through our meal I noticed that the guy behind the bar (serving drinks to the waiters taking care of the terrace and food to the tables inside) started pulling his mask down while he was behind the bar (he’d pull it up again if he stepped out from behind the bar, but still). And then just as we were about to finish I saw the cook and his assistant come out of the kitchen AND NEITHER OF THEM WERE WEARING MASKS. They didn’t have them pulled down, or on their wrists. They simply weren’t wearing them at all. So we quickly finished our last tapitas, got the bill and left.When I got home I put something on my Twitter about this without naming the bar, but then someone said I should say which one it was so they could avoid it. I told them the name without putting the @nametag but later I deleted those tweets. I realised that if I’m not going to properly NAME & SHAME then it’s best not to say anything. I mean, I got so much flack the time I mentioned the Bread Baskets of Death a while ago that I decided to stop putting myself out there as a target, especially when nobody else seems to be calling out bars and restaurants for not complying with the Covid rules. But I have kept a mental list – and it’s quite a long one – of bars I refuse to go to because of this. And now there’s one more.

So not only was it a very mediocre food experience, but when Peter got home he realised he’d left his (expensive) progressive specs at the bar. He went back the next day, but they insisted they didn’t find them. And so, meh food, lost glasses AND the added worry that we might have picked up the virus from the maskless asshats. Will (hopefullly) be able to breathe a sigh of relief after the incubation period has passed.