After two weeks we are beginning to be known by the grocery store clerks, waiters and the people on the street hawking restaurants and stores. They smile at us and say hello. We try out new spots, but also return to some that are comfortable with good service.
Friday afternoon we return to Downtown Bar on the Square for some afternoon sun, beverages and a chance for William to smoke a Cuban in their outdoor seating. The waiter greets us, remembering where we are from and what we ordered to drink the last time we were there.
Saturday we walk a little further, past the Square, up the escalators, and past Praia dos Pescadores to the Terrace Trattoria. They are new to us, and have incredible Italian food and a wonderful view of the Atlantic. The waitress is all smiles.
Sunday morning we decide to have breakfast at Sérgio Santos Dias. The hawker and the server are both are personable and attentive. When William pulls out his cell phone, they notice and a card with the internet password is provided without having to ask.
So what happened with Sunday afternoon? I wanted to walk on the beach since the weather is 21 with little wind. Not surprisingly William does not want to be in that much sunlight. We walk through the tunnel from the Square to the beach and find a some restaurants with umbrellas and awnings. William spots one with a lot of awning playing French music and explains to the waiter that all we want is beverages. The waiter points William from one of the tables he's eyeing to another table and provides a beverages menu. Ok. William sits down and I tell him that when I return in 30-35 minutes I'd like a green wine or white wine. Off I go on my walk.
When I return William is waiting for me outside of the restaurant area. Seems that after 20 minutes of trying to get a waiter's attention he has given up. And he wasn't the only one. The couple next to him also got up, telling the waiter that the service is too slow and another gentleman left without a word. No real reaction from the waiter. Is it a matter of expectations? The French would sit and relax and talk for a while before the waiter appears, but people from the US and Canada anticipate having a cold one in hand within 10 minutes of sitting down. Or is it poor service? Either way, William is not happy. We walk to the Square and sit down at a restaurant we have not previously tried. Although the view is not of the Atlantic, a cold one is in William's hand in less than 10 minutes.
Friday afternoon we return to Downtown Bar on the Square for some afternoon sun, beverages and a chance for William to smoke a Cuban in their outdoor seating. The waiter greets us, remembering where we are from and what we ordered to drink the last time we were there.
Saturday we walk a little further, past the Square, up the escalators, and past Praia dos Pescadores to the Terrace Trattoria. They are new to us, and have incredible Italian food and a wonderful view of the Atlantic. The waitress is all smiles.
Sunday morning we decide to have breakfast at Sérgio Santos Dias. The hawker and the server are both are personable and attentive. When William pulls out his cell phone, they notice and a card with the internet password is provided without having to ask.
So what happened with Sunday afternoon? I wanted to walk on the beach since the weather is 21 with little wind. Not surprisingly William does not want to be in that much sunlight. We walk through the tunnel from the Square to the beach and find a some restaurants with umbrellas and awnings. William spots one with a lot of awning playing French music and explains to the waiter that all we want is beverages. The waiter points William from one of the tables he's eyeing to another table and provides a beverages menu. Ok. William sits down and I tell him that when I return in 30-35 minutes I'd like a green wine or white wine. Off I go on my walk.
When I return William is waiting for me outside of the restaurant area. Seems that after 20 minutes of trying to get a waiter's attention he has given up. And he wasn't the only one. The couple next to him also got up, telling the waiter that the service is too slow and another gentleman left without a word. No real reaction from the waiter. Is it a matter of expectations? The French would sit and relax and talk for a while before the waiter appears, but people from the US and Canada anticipate having a cold one in hand within 10 minutes of sitting down. Or is it poor service? Either way, William is not happy. We walk to the Square and sit down at a restaurant we have not previously tried. Although the view is not of the Atlantic, a cold one is in William's hand in less than 10 minutes.
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