That's Calle Es Calo on a map and it's wall to wall tourist world. Karaoke bars, endless football matches - today in Shooters bar you could watch West Ham v Leverpool (spelled that very way on no less than two blackboards) whilst in the Millenium bar the commentator (you could hear the commentary in Wigan) wondered if Arsenal could be regarded as one of the Big Four still.
I digress, there's a kids' playground on every corner with slides and bouncy things, and every plate of chicken, chips and salad sold in an afternoon would stretch to the moon if laid end to end.
Every so often there's a culinary oasis (and I don't mean the bar called Oasis which does and early evening - 4 pm to 6pm - special roast dinner) where you can buy some genuine Spanish food at economic prices.
Walking past Meson Alberto I was attracted by the Chuleton de Avila and the roast shoulder of lamb with lashings of freshly boiled potatoes with a drizzle of olive oil and at Visions' Kiosko the BBQ was smoking away and brought back memories of quail marinated in spices that was so succulent straight off the grill.
It just goes to show that in Spain, no matter how naff the resort you're in, you can still find the most brilliant, simple, tasty and reasonably cheap fare. (Obviously Magalluf is excluded from El Ste's observation)
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