I finish early on Wednesday evenings. We went for a drink. On the way to the bar Quevedo we passed a cake shop. Maggie mentioned that she'd been intending to buy something there for a while.
Cartagena is neither Gotham City nor Metropolis but, just like The Man of Steel and Batman, I'm a man of action. I strode, manfully, purposefully, into the shop. I spotted a notice on the door "We specialise in Hinds and Explorers" it said, well it didn't actually, it read "Ciervas y Exploradores," but being almost bilingual nowadays I hardly noticed the difference. Inside the cake shop there was a little coffee bar. I ordered up a cuppa mud (Tom Waits, Phantom 309 composed by Red Sovine) and a nice little pastry to go with it. Maggie's memory was jogged. "Ahh, they're sweet pastry with meat fillings," she said. Indeed they were. The ciervas are the bigger tartlet ones and the exploradores are the ones dusted with sugar. Typical of Cartagena said the cake seller.
There's not a lot going on here at the moment. They weren't really anything to write home about but that's exactly what I thought I'd do.