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We both felt a bit worse for wear, and turned in early. Next morning, we walked through the market, and what a scene! It begs a contrast to the voluptuous, carefully arranged market, in Barcelona, presented as a work of art, like everything else in that city. The market here was a crowded, raucous, working market: stall after stall of fish, with vegetables and meats in between, fish-wives calling out, still alive sand shrimp and snails squirming, cheap trinket stalls and lottery ticket hawkers oozing out the sides. |