Emma Carter
Fri 03 Apr 2026
We nicknamed this no beach club - it wasn’t close enough to the beach to be called a beach club. It was a patio with garden furniture from your Nan’s house and some questionable entertainment - a stripper, a waitress who whippped people and a racist bongo player. There was no atmosphere or vibes like in a normal beach club. The food was barely edible - rogue looking meat in nearly cold paella. We had a few drinks and left.
