101 Port of Call

So, Gabi stepped off the gangplank with his bag slung over his shoulder. He stretched his legs as he breathed in the flat scent of the air coming off the land, mingled with the salty fishy smell of the docks.

So, where to go? He settled on finding a nice little cafe so he could have a good English fryup, better than all the toast in his bag.

He walked up a couple of crooked streets, swaggering as ladies young and old looked at his uniform with admiration and children gaped at him in awe - instead of being all cramped up on the sub.
Soon he came upon just the greasy spoon he was looking for. He plopped down at a table and ordered:
1) a fried egg, sunny side up
2) 2 sausages
3) baked beans
4) a fried tomato
5) fried mushrooms
6) 2 hash browns
7) a rack of HOT buttered TOAST
8) a pot of steaming coffee

And Gabi tucked in with gusto! When he'd sopped up every drop of grease, he mopped his mouth, stretched his legs out under the table, and settled in with his last cup of coffee as he gazed out the window at the passers-by.