Exhilarated from the Orcas we heeded the Lonely Planet recommendation for a local restaurant.
They welcomed us in slightly early at 8 PM and it was immediately obvious they spoke no English at all. The menu was also purely Spanish.
Luckily, David’s iPhone app uses its camera to translate for us.
I ordered “maniac wire”. The other orders were similar, “bloody slab”, “chicken concrete”, “murder tomato”.
However, I desperately needed the loo for numero duos. There was no paper, nor in the womens loo. I asked the waitress for toilet paper. She reluctantly followed my gestures and then confusedly showed me the ample supply of paper towels. I forced her back deeper into the room, she became nervous. I pointed at the empty toilet roll holder. She was relieved and left to obtain a roll, came back, installed it, and ran off. Then I noticed there was no flush button. There wasn’t a top to the cistern either. There was a wooden rod in one corner of the room but I couldn’t figure out anyway to make this beast flush.
I took my roll and went to the womens loo. It has a top and a flusher, phew! I took a huge dump, cleaned up and pressed the flusher, nothing, nada, there was no way to flush this either. I draped a couple of clean pieces of paper over the steamy mess and sneaked out. No way was I about to try to explain to our waitress what was now awaiting her other guests. But I did have to warn off present company. Tricia was confident that I was merely incompetent and that she would be able to flush. After 10 minutes of failed attempts, she returned but was unable to eat her meal.
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