There are some places, and indeed some people, that are best viewed through the haze of two after-work bottles of Rioja. In the cold and sober light of day this place probably isn't up to much. But tumble and stagger in through the dimly-lit entrance round 11pm, and this popular flamenco bar/restaurant resembles an enchanted cavern, where flamenco beats and the shaking of maracas mingle with the smell of fresh tortilla and grilled chorizo as you gently forget what country you're in. And which bar you left your wallet in. Shit! Who's paying, then?