Finally, finally I am in Barcelona, a day later than scheduled. I’m here until the last flight out on Monday so that’s practically three day’s worth of R&R that I have planned. It’s so unusual for me to go anywhere on a break, as opposed to a work trip and I am beyond delighted.
I decided to come because one of my closest friends from New York was in Europe on a summer tour, and a bunch of us flew here to meet up. It’s kind of perfect: I get to hang out with my friends and add to the LLG guide to Barcelona, but with no commitments, schedule or meetings.
So far there’s been marvelling at the size of my room at the AC Barcelona hotel:
a little light sight-seeing around the Barri Gotic (I know Barcelona very well, but it’s always lovely to walk around here),
the eating of a ridiculous amount of really delicious food, washed down with Vichy Catalan and a little cava rosado, at a late lunch around 5pm at Bar Lobo yesterday (Saturday), (which, altho I love it, let me down by being extraordinarily abusive to my friends after I had left and practically kicking them out. Big fail.)
dinner for five at Cuines de Catalina (with some more cava), where we realised that, only having one common friend between us all, that we all had the most bizarre (& completely unprintable) connections with each other, and a 5 minute foray (through a secret VIP door) at 2am into a beachside nightclub (Carpe Diem), where I realised yet again that sardine-packed clubs, however chic & beautifully located, filled with grope-y men, gyrating girls on podiums and crappy house music make me shrivel up inside.
So I slipped off into one of Barcelona’s extraordinarily available cabs and back to my vast room, where I lolled about in the whirlpool bath in my room (ha!) for a while, before shutting the black out blinds, and sleeping like a dormouse or some other content hibernating furry animal until 930 this morning. Ah. Holidays. They, quite simply, rock.