And then there were three weeks...

So then Momma Time!

I did some hardcore cleaning before, as you, washing number three in Barcelona. I pretty much spend all day Friday waiting for it to be time for me to go to the airport. We met in London and then on to Barcelona on Monday. The flight was glorious, mind you I am used to flying the cheapest of cheap economy airlines, and this time I was on British Airways. I really showed how classy I was when they offered me a sandwich and I asked if I had to pay for it, I got quite a look, but I still took advantage of the mini bottle of wine I got ‘free’. Well, duh, I ate all of the little dinner/lunch they gave me, but was still totally ready for real food at dins with Momsie. She was ready and waiting with a new friend to take our picture (the one up top) as soon as I got off the plane, so don’t worry…the trip is well documented.



That first night was amazing, yum dinner, nice clean hotel room, and TELEVISION. I don’t think you really understand what it is like not having television, and I am not even someone that watches that much television. If I didn’t take the time to load news podcasts, I would have no idea what was going on in the world, and I didn’t really start doing that until the end of March since it takes so long to download here. My contact with the outside world is NBC Nightly News, ABC World News, and Meet the Press…I might actually be more informed since it is the only ‘TV’ that is readily available. I digress… the next day we went to a gorge flower shower, apparently very famous.Mom abused her new camera while I tried to feed my Pimms cocktail to the gorilla garden statues. I’m not sure how all the 'proper' British gardeners felt about that. The next highlight was dinner and a show. The restaurant, called Sarastro, was loco, carnival/circus/theatre themed. The image only gives a preview how how much velour they really used inside. You couldn’t look anywhere without seeing some random trinket. I saw a spray-painted heal on the edge of the stairwell and little men or ballet shoes hanging from the ceiling fans. Not really little men, but that would’ve been great. Then we saw Wicked at the Apollo (I think) Theatre, it was a-m-a-z-i-n-g, despite extreme difficulty and figuring out where it was. The lack of a sense of direction, teamed with the fact that we were following my cell clock, which was an hour later, made it all very interesting. This might be Mom's favourite picture, she likes to say it looks like I am throwing up, which I might have been. We got there an hour early, but thought we were only just making it, which confused us a lot since no one else was waiting to get in when we go to the theater.

Sunday was my job to plan. Though I was very hardcore tour guide for the whole visit.There are about 10 photos like this of me (here at the palace in London) attending to my duties. I have to say, Mom did quite well keeping up with the psycho-college-traveler-pace. After some English sausage (I don’t want to talk about it, because there is a haunting image Mom took of me in the crisp, white hotel sheets, and it is horrifyingly similar. No, i will not post it on here). The tower was first on the list, and completely fascinating. We didn’t go in, but I’m pretty sure I could be an official tour guide as long as I can use the tour book and Wikipedia on my blackberry. Even though there were crown jewels there, I was far more fascinated seeing the gate from the Thames to the moat where they dropped of the people to be killed. We also saw The Globe Theatre, or a reconstruction of it. Super cool. Mom learned how nerdy I truly am in my love of Shakespeare; I try to keep it on the DL. Mom sucked me in to watching her new favorite movie that night, P.S. I Love You. I recommend it if you want to start drooling over any Irish musician you encounter, not that rare in Barcelona. Ok well, I still consider meeting two good odds.
I was much better prepared for the high-class, pre-packaged sandwich offer I got on the flight home. We were at the hotel by six and it felt great to be back in Barca air. I brought Mom to my favorite Italian restaurant, the have the best pizza. While she was here, Barca’s futbol team (a.k.a. soccer, for you gringas, as my Latin American friends call me) had it s equivalent of the Superbowl, The Champion’s League Cup. FCBarcelona has won each of the three, and I believe only possible, that it had this season. It is truly amazing to witness in a culture that is consumed by its love of this sports. The Boston fans, however intense they are, have nothing on these people. Mom and I went to a restaurant near the hotel on Carrer Princessa, Princessa 23; where they have the only nachos I will ever eat again in my life. We watched most of the game there over dinner, but finished watching in the hotel room so we would be the casualties of amateur celebratory firecrackers. Poor mom who had to leave at five the next morning had to hear all of Barcelona celebrating. Even on my walk home Thursday morning, there where people Barca jersey on and cervesa in hand.





We went to our favorite places in Barca while she was here, Caelum (the monastery pastry café), Princessa 23 (remember? The nacho place), shoe stores, and Buenas Migas on the beach< (really good veggie focaccia pizza and cappuccino). Yes, that's us in love on the beach next to all the topless sunbathers. My favorite new place we went to was El Bosc de las Fades. The same people that run the wax museum own the bar, so you can guess it’s pretty unique own the bar. As soon as you walk in you feel like you are in a forest; chilled, water running, trees and low lighting. Throughout the bar there are little surprises, near our table there was a mermaid in a small pond between two trees with a waterfall. We also went to La Sagrada Familia (Templo Expiatorio de la Sagrada Familia in catalan, Expiatory Temple of the Holy Family), the cathedral by Gaudi. I also played tour guide here. The picture you can see if of the east façade showing the nativity. Then i made her take a nice llong walk around El Raval, another barrio, or neighbourhood, of Barcelona. Raval is on the other side La Rambla from me, and known for an eccelctic culture and population (lots of immigrants and young people there). We also saw these sassy motos there. Gimme. I think Mom’s favorite is still Caelum, I will never forget how good that marzipan cake was the first time, to say nothing of the anillo galletas (ring cookies) made with anisette. We also found espadrilles, a typical Spanish style shoe. My generous Mommy—wink, wink—found an awesome pair, I pretty wear them everyday, so much that I might need a back-up pair. We also found a great guitar group in front of the cathedral, off of Via Laitana. I think we could be satisfied listen to spanish guitar or something like it for the rest of our lives. The group is called Guitarras Nocturnas, and I actually see the two guys on the left at the beach all the time. Then she left me. THE HORROR! But with plenty of coffee to last me ‘till the end of June.

Wait, what? The end of June? As in the 21 days, three weeks end of June? That’s right, my flight is in three weeks from today! Buffalo chicken orgy, here I come!