A slim strip of beach follows the river to the sea. We only found it due to some scooters and cars parked in the moor. Away from the streets, between shrubbery, the vehicles reminded us of mafia shootouts, giving the overall place a rough character unfit for the beauty of a beach.
There were fishermen along the bank, each one following their meditative practice on their own. And there was their catch, or what was left of it, after the crabs took their share.