McFinley's Bar

McFinley's Bar

💛 Sun, Sangria & Mr. Salty: A Wild Evening at McFinleyyy’s

By Sarah's Flip-Flop Travel

It was a warm, golden evening in coastal Spain — the kind of evening where the sun melts into the sea, and all decisions are made based on vibes alone. 🌞🍹

Fresh off a chaotic sunburn and an accidental nap on a lilo, Sarah, our fabulous blonde heroine, and her best pals Susan (the always-hungry planner) and Niamh (the unpredictable one with a weakness for karaoke), found themselves wandering the cobbled streets of the old town looking for… well, something. Anything. Preferably with alcohol.

Then they saw it: McFinleyyy’s Bar, tucked under a brick archway like a forgotten gem from the 1980s Irish tourism board. The sign outside read:

“Happy Hour! (Subject to McFinleyyy’s Mood)”

How could they resist?

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🍻 Enter McFinleyyy

Behind the bar stood McFinleyyy himself — a man whose moustache could legally qualify as a small pet and who pours pints like he’s been doing it since Moses walked the Earth. He greeted them with a single nod and a questionable wink. Was he Irish? Spanish? No one knew. His accent sounded like a confused GPS.

“I’ll have a sangria,” Sarah beamed.

“You’ll get a Guinness with a lemon in it and like it,” he replied.

Legend.

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💘 Then Came Mr. Salty

As the girls settled in and Susan began mapping out their route to the next churro stand, he walked in.

Mr. Salty.

Shorts that screamed casual confidence.

T-shirt that said I moisturise, but I also barbecue.

Hair: Greying in that “I’ve-seen-things-but-I-still-do-yoga” kind of way.

He ordered a sparkling water with lime, leaned against the bar next to Sarah, and said:

“Do you believe in love at first sip?”

Sarah melted.

Niamh whispered, “Oh no… she’s gone.”

Susan ordered another round — she knew they’d be here a while.

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🧂 A Salty Romance

The two hit it off instantly. They chatted about beach towels, overcooked prawns, and whether Die Hard counts as a Christmas movie (he says yes, she says “obviously”).

McFinleyyy watched them from behind the bar, muttering in Spanish-Irish:

“Another one falls for the Salty charm…”

As the night wore on, Niamh ended up doing a Sean Paul cover on the karaoke machine, Susan befriended a stray cat called Gary, and Sarah… well, she fell head over heels.

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❤️ The End? Or the Beginning?

The next morning, Sarah woke up with a Guinness coaster stuck to her cheek and a phone number written on her arm:

“Mr. Salty – Call me before the tide changes.”

And that, dear readers, is how Sarah met the love of her holiday — in a bar with too many y’s and just enough magic.

McFinleyyy’s: Where every drink is questionable, but every story is golden.