Our patioless, but parkinglotpicnicoption hotel had breakfast included. Since it was buffet, we figured that it would be a good idea to got there at 8am before every other guest arrives and coughs on the food. Since there is also a youth hostel in the hotel yard that for currently accommodating German schoolkids in the amount that would fill half a Dresden, our plan fell through. 7:50am there was already an impressive line of insomniac youngsters waiting and at 7:55am once they opened the doors, there was no available spot around the buffet table to reach for a slice of cheese. Porridge seemed to be corn semolina and the pancakes fried in the same oil they have been using since Easter. We chose to eat somewhere else.
We walked to the beach on the other side of the peninsula and solved some travel quizzes there until we started to get hungry. We made some sandwiches in the hotel and ate a few tomatoes and went for a hike in forest and dunes in the afternoon. Since we had made our homework and chosen a restaurant in Nida, we also walked to Il Vino to take a look at the menu and book a table for dinner. I mean, it was the furthest located restaurant in our town and we would have hated to walk the 11 minutes there being all hungry and not gotten a table. Located at a distance from the central idyll, the soviet era architecture gem of bricks and discolored wood, it was a three storied building with the restaurant on the third floor and their roof top terrace on the roof of the neighboring house. From the terrace there there were breathtaking views of the sunset and glass wall toilet with posters of Emmanuelle.
By 7pm we arrived in the restaurant and as always we started to order way too much food: shrimps, patatas extra bravas, grilled cheese bruschetta, fried jalopenos, cherry tomatoes filled with feta, asparagus with ham. Muy good. Families in the neighboring tables made sure that we weren't bored during the fairly long waiting time. Parents of a two-year old girl arrived, carrying a big potty. Despite that the girl managed to pee into her pink pants. 3-4 kids at the table in the furthest corner of the terrace were screaming so loud that we tried to catch some breaks to share a few quick words. Two boys were climbing on the bridge railing between both buildings like James Bond in the towers of Siena. Anyway, until the desserts arrived, everything was to our liking. They served us tasteless overbaked chocolate cake which they called chocolate-not-souffle cake and some dry pieces of apples on undercooked crust as tarte tatin. But since the service was very lovely, we didn't make an issue of it.
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