You won’t go hungry either. Food stalls abound, there’s a German restaurant and the ubiquitous McDonald’s. There are several British pubs and at least one Irish pub (more on that later).
And, interspersed throughout are Fish Spas. This was the main reason I’d dragged my husband here, I was determined to try one. This is where my husband gets the Brilliant Husband of the Year Award. How many husbands would ride an elephant bareback when they detest heights (because their wife loved elephants), or get into a tiger’s cage with their clearly certifiable wife just to take her picture? And now he was about to plunge his tootsies into a tank of flesh eating fish.
Afterwards, our feet smooth and gleaming, we needed something to fortify us and within minutes spied an Irish Pub. There’s always an Irish Pub. I first became aware of this phenomenon in 1998 when we were in Florence. The one there was full of bikers … but I digress.
We sat down to a sustaining glass (or two) of Guinness and some very good pub fare. The cost of the entire meal? The equivalent of thirty dollars.