The night before I left to come back to Jolly Olde, we headed into Barcelona for a night on the town. We started at a tapas place in Gracia, polished off two bottles of wine and some french fries (apparently the only food the broken kitchen would allow them to cook that night), and then headed deep into the heart of Gracia for some crepes. Most of us had savoury crepes (like my goat cheese and asparagas), but Paulina and Mark, acting as a united front, went for the Nutella-filled variety. Nicely done. Obligatory self-timed group shot:
We started with wine with our meal...
...here...
...then graduated to cocktails. Someone is obviously quite content with that notion.
Serious mojito-induced conversations...
...led us to move somewhere a little more moody.Before hitting up Otto for some dancing, Leire and I got in some photo time together...
...as did Leire and Mark...as well as Paulina. Here she is pictured doing something resembling dancing. Must be a Polish thing.
Lastly, Enrique showed us a bit of his underside as he grooved tableside. All in all, we had a spectacular time. Our hosts not only for sleeping and dining, but for drinking, laughing, and enjoying the fruits of the city, were just amazing. Being in their home, overlooking the mountains and seeing how the Spanish really live was an eye-opening experience. I hope we'll keep in touch. If I keep this up, I'll have a list of people who will all promise to visit me in Toronto once I'm there. Well done, me.Righto. We're done with the Spanish pics, folks. This has been a labourious task and I'm exhausted with the viewing of all the vacation photos (since you know how much I LOVE doing that). Tomorrow: we go back to the Italian pics and relive those four days.Nighty night! Happy Easter!
Our second day in Barcelona was going to be great. We got a ride into the station at Molins de Rei and took the train into the city. Weather was cool (FAR cooler than the south), but it was sunny. We were in full detox mode, so we walked from Catalunya Square to a smoothie place up the street. After some much-needed veggies and fruit, we were well on our way to a great day. Take a peek at the stunning architecture we saw...In a week's time, the Rose Festival was on. Men have to give women flowers and women betroth books on her man. Who knew?La Rambla: Main Street, Barcelona
Wicked in-market bakery where employees insisted they not be in the picture and where we scored a sweet multigrain baguette.
Gracia is clearly the cured meat, cheese, and all around good food district.
Awesome bakery in Gracia. We opted for a piece of gingerbread that was really a slice of cake heaven.
Gorgeous heirloom tomato...mmmm
View from a peak of Parque Guell. It had taken us more than an hour to hike it from Catalunya to the Parque. It was a strange mix of all things Alice and Wonderland mixed with, almost Canada's Wonderland. Not so Spanish: not so great.This was a very famous park we'd heard so much about and put far too much stock in. The place was crawling with tourists (the ones who wear sneakers with white socks and sport fanny packs. Those are the WORST) and it had no grass. Um, we came here for the grass. We brought food and everything. How are we expected to eat our lunch here (a stunning array of tomatos, homemade tapinade [that sadly I dropped just before getting into the park, breaking the jar and rendering it inedible], fresh bread, cheese-stuffed pimentos, and homemade gingerbread cake for dessert)? Huh? We ate on a cement bench and were left a little jilted. What kind of place was this?
This Spanish Elvis impersonator was just too much. Needless to say, we were glad to be getting out of this park.View of the city left much to be desired. However, it was neat to be up so high.
From here, we headed to the beach where, completely uncharacteristically of me, I took zero photographs. My mind was elsewhere, I suppose. It was here I was getting text after text from Laura, updating me on her (now stable, then just aggravating for her) pregnancy status. I love being able to talk to them, you, whenever the need or desire arises. I love modern technology for keeping me this close to all of you all the time. Swoon. Lots of love felt here tonight.Anyway, we headed to get a drink before our beloved Woki (a Japanese stir-fry restaurant and organic health food store) opened up at 8:30. We started in a restaurant with the worst service known to man, laughed our heads off at the incompetence of the waiters, then headed to this place, where ridiculousness ensued.One litre of mojito? Why not.
The wife behind us was not so thrilled with me after I mauled her husband for ordering a mojito like the one we are downing here. Still, I think we got along alright.
And when the second one-litre mojito arrived, the good mood was really flowing.
Back at Woki, overlooking the ocean, we talked about some pretty deep issues over our noodles and broccoli. Good times.
This guy thinks so.
Good friends, good food, good measurements of a day well spent.
Unfortunately, we missed the bus that would take us back to Leire and Enrique's house, so we sheepishly called them at, oh 11 pm. What a pair. Leire told us to take the train as far as Molins and she'd come to get us there. At 11:45. Good god, did I feel bad or what (not that you can tell from the above picture)?Still, a good day ;)
Our flight left Sevilla at some ungodly hour, so we were up at 5:30 for some eggs on crackers (it's all we had left) and then off to the airport. Apparently though the bill said, "Sevilla Airport" on it, the rental car was to be returned to a site away from the airport. Of course. So we were frantically trying to get this all sorted out, but had no choice but to get on the plane, after leaving the car with the other rental cars from other companies, keys thrown through the slightly-cracked-open window after locking it up. Smart thinking, Nathan. When we arrived in Barcelona, we called the car rental place and were promptly told that since we rented the car from Malaga, the other key was also in Malaga and getting a new key cut would cost a whopping €200. Yikes. We were freaking out before getting on the train to go into the city. Then "the lady" (I love that expression) called back (thank God for mobile phones, eh?) and told Nathan that she had attempted to get the key unsuccessfully until she, wait for it, found a stick and managed to get the key out of the slightly-cracked-open window. Um, wow. So that was that: car was returned, no extra charges, voila done.I know...things just work out but come ON. A stick? Awesome!Oh, and my backpack was too bulbous, so I had to pay a whopping (more whopping!) €37.50 to check my bag. Argh. To say the least, when we arrived in the Barcelona city centre, neither of us was really in the most lovely mood, despite the amazing feat of the car rental lady. We were tired: we were hungry. I only had a few moments and a few extra bursts of energy to snap a few pictures......before we just HAD to stop at Bar Lobo for some outdoor dining. Since it was already noon (just, but that's hardly the point), we started with some wine (I had a spritzer!), humous... 
...then I mowed down this tuna. Amazing.
Feeling much better and lighter thanks to the kindness of a hotel employee who agreed to let us leave our bags there even though we weren't guests (I love people), we were well on our way to exploring the city.LOVE the Spanish apartments...Arc de Triomf, Barcelona
Park EntranceA man who I swear looked exactly like my father (I think it was the jeans that bore the resemblance, but Nathan said he saw it, too) was in this grove playing the saxophone, grooving with this base player and nearby drummer. It was pretty radical.
Yet another Spanish interpretation of Central Park. Loves.
Many an English-speaking person passed this mammoth and could not identify it. Shame we know so much about Lindsay Lohan but not enough about biology.
We knew what it was though, and we were not afraid to get up close and personal!
Action kid shot! Loves.
I loved this statue. I thought she was depleted, empty, sorrowful.Nathan thought she'd just lost a basketball game.Either way, culture and hilarity: the good life.
Desperate for food and in a bit of a rush to meet up with our Barcelona hosts, I batted my eyelashes and convinced the chef of this pizza place to serve us up a pie. Twas legendary.
From here, we zipped onto the train to Molins de Rei, where we met up with Enrique. His girlfriend was a student at the ESL training that Nathan just taught. She'd invited us both to stay with them (oh, I've told you this already) in their nearby town. Anyway, they were super nice, but I didn't have the chance to meet Leire, as we hit the sack before she was home from the airport. Tomorrow is a new day.
