Marinas are odd odd places. The strangest one I've ever been to is Horta in the Azores...odd memories of angry drunken Norwegians, hairy hippies on a boat seemingly made of duct tape, rafting six deep on the seawall, all completely overshadowed by my discovery of spicy ketchup at the marina cafe. Ah, spicy ketchup, Mother Nature's Perfect Elixir.
But the People's Republic of Berkeley Marina might take the cake. No spicy ketchup, but great neighbors.
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