Tavernas in Greece, or at least tavernas in Greece that are worth a light, tend to offer what looked good in the markets that morning. The only time you'll see menus in such establishments is when the tourist police are due to make one of their visits.
The implication of police visits and proprietors being aware has a delightfully Mediterranean flavour to it.
I remember some years ago that we were in a bar having tapas one Sunday morn after doing the veggie market buying for the next few days, when one of the regular African salesmen was in trying to do his thing with cheap music CDs. All of a sudden he fled into the loo and reappeared sans his bag. In a moment or two, in came two local cops for their cup of whatever. When they left, back into the loo, and back with the CD bag.
My friendly neighbour, who is currently on a very short trip over here from Britain, knew about the theft of my watch - he was here the day it happened - and as we sat having lunch a couple of days ago, he asked me if I needed a new Rolex. I laughed, and showed the Invicta, whereupon he reached into his pocket and proffered an ancient "Rolex". Ancient, and bought from another African doing his sales thing in the yacht club, of all places! I think it cost the equivalent of €30 in the days of the peseta! As this is Wednesday, and as Wednesday is the port's market day unlike Pollensa, which has it on Sundays, and knowing that my lapse in awareness of the implications had led to the mugging on a Wednesday, today I had decided to play safe - too late! too late! - and wear the newly gifted ancient fake. I had been tempted to ask the two Guardias having coffee next to us if they had heard anything about my stolen watch, but then thought: keep shtum, baby, you are wearing a true fake that has used the actual brand name! Had they (the fuzz) then glanced at my wrist, God knows where that might have led; it had been difficult enough convincing them that an old geezer with knees poking out his jeans, and with a worn out baseball cap on his dome had ever had a Rolex in his entire life.
But the thing is, from a no-nonsense tapas bar to an exclusive yacht club, there seems to have been tollerance for those migrants trying to sell shit in order to eat.
Life has its funny moments.
Rob