Kebab Meat, Chips and Salad

Check out was at 11am in Costa Teguise, but our flight wasn't until 9:10pm in Arrecife, our accounts were near empty, our bags were heavy and our bodies were tired. We contemplated sitting on the beach near the hotel until it was time to leave, but that would mean getting on a flight and then travelling through London at 1am, cold and covered in sand: hard pass.

So, in favour of not being covered in sand, we took a bus to Arrecife, asked a local where was best to get off based on the google search we'd bet our sanity on - a luggage storage facility - and then walked 15 minutes to find it. Naturally we had both somewhat overpacked and had an additional carry-a-bag each (a problem for later); as well as a 2 litre bottle of water to lug around in the blistering heat.

Nineteen euros and eighty-seven cents later and our bags were safely tucked into the storage room of a corner shop. Time to explore - right? Time to get a drink in fact. We headed to a cute marina filled with bars (courtesy of another google search) and set out in search for a cheap sangria (spoiler alert, we ended up with not-so-cheap frozen daiquiris).

A few minutes later, and a lot of mumbled complaints on my side we  found an entirely empty and extremely beautiful bar looking out onto the marina. Now, it’s important to remember that we a) have barely any money, and b) are here for a cheap sangria. The waiter greeted us and provided us with food menus – this was our downfall, put a list of delicious sounding food in front of two very hungry women with no self control? A recipe for disaster. Two refreshing daiquiris and a plate not-quite-full of overpriced (but indeed delicious) prawns later we realised over half of our budget for the rest of the day was gone.

Disheartened and downright distraught at the prospect of possibly not eating another meal until around 4am we soldiered on. This was our first time in Lanzarote and our only day to explore Arrecife - and we were determined to see it. I’d already eaten my emergency sweet, and convinced Vic to give me hers and it wasn’t even 2pm yet… it was going to be a long day.

We wandered around the historic streets.

Beautiful.

Lovely.

Very nice.

I was tired and hot and hungry.

We walked around a museum.

Informative.

I wondered if there was a Spar, or what I labelled as Lanzarote’s equivalent to a Tesco – a SuperDino nearby.

We looked at the sea and I thought that perhaps being covered in sand in the early hours of the morning in London wouldn’t have been so bad.

We sat on a bench and calculated.

Sixteen euros, if we chanced the bus to the airport, consumed nothing else, and took the long way through London.

Sixteen.

It was time for another Google search.

We tried ‘cheap buffet’ – out of our price range.

We tried 'cheap places to eat' - one promising, closed.

Eventually we found what would turn out to be our saving grace.

Following the map we began our walk to what we assumed would be a slightly-below average kebab shop and dreamed of a nice traditional sit down meal with a very large jug of Sangria. The streets were changing from postcard ready proms to dwindling backstreets and our optimism was quickly dissolving into resounding acceptance. We were ready to be home, less sweaty, less hungry, but we still had hours and hours until it was acceptable to be at the airport and even more until our flight. After what seemed like much longer than the minutes the map suggested, we had arrived at the probably-disappointing-but-in-budget-kebab-shop.

We rounded a corner and like an oasis in a desert, there it was. Turkish Kebab. With it’s exposed brickwork and outdoor barrel tables. It was empty, something that I was later very surprised about. We hadn't even entered but from the outside alone the hope was returning.

The host greeted us, smile as wide as ours was after reading the prices outside and realising that we could afford an actual meal. Met with the realisation that we would in fact eat again and could rest, nothing could dampen our excitement. We felt like children at Christmas, unwrapping the gift you had begged for but barely dared dream of receiving.

We were directed to the best table in the house – the one opposite the industrial sized fan, which was switched on as we sat down – the cool breeze instantly swept my hair and any remaining annoyance away.

Our eyes roamed the menu, lighting up in disbelief. Forgotten was the absurd amount of time left before our flight, forgotten was the fact that we would struggle with our bags, forgotten was the future journey across London in the cold.

The host, kind and welcoming rushed to direct me to their wifi box, flipping it over willingly to provide me the password after I mentioned my phone was not working (I had not paid my bill).

Choices were made, dinner was selected and rest was had.

Kebab, chips and salad.

We expected the usual - polystyrene box, plastic fork, mess of meat, oily chips and warm salad haphazardly thrown together; the type any south Londoner is familiar with.

We were wrong.

I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I bestowed the title of ‘World’s Greatest Kebab’ upon our chosen meal. From the presentation to the taste, the real cutlery and array of sauces it was perfect.

Heaven.

We were in heaven.

We marvelled at the generous portion. We ate, mostly in appreciative silence, shovelling the food into our already full mouths, pausing every now and then to break the silence with enthusiastic praise.

Incredible.

Delicious.

Warming.

Filling.

After finishing, savouring every last piece of lettuce, we remained. There was no rush to continue exploring, no feeling of needing to do something with the remaining time. No pressure to ‘make the most’ of Arrecife - which I am quite sure is a beautiful place, full of many wonderful things to see and do. No, we were content, fulfilled. Our accounts were even emptier now and the journey ahead still loomed, but we were ready for it. 

We were ready to go home but no longer feeling as though we were beat down. The simple meal had restored everything – even things we didn’t know were missing. Gone was the dread, in its place was satisfaction and appreciation.

Sincere thank you’s were made, our gratitude and compliments probably coming across as over the top and animated, but our sentiment was so genuine we could not contain ourselves.

Leaving Turkish Kebab behind we ventured back out onto the hot street in pursuit of our bags and a bus stop. It no longer mattered that we had hours and hours until our flight,

then a coach,

then a tube

and then bus ride before we were home.