I’m not sure how to write about Barcelona. It is so extraordinary that I haven’t wanted to even try and express it in words. But it’s time. We have been here four days and we are set to depart tomorrow.

We arrived in by plane and were welcomed by a rainbow as we rode the bus into town. Rolling our suitcases a few long blocks we arrived at Hostal Oliva, which ended up being the perfect homebase. Imagine being buzzed into marble entry and slowly ascending four floors in a tiny, old mahogany elevator, then greeted by a most friendly, smiling woman, who spoke English! After Paris’ aloofness. the warmth was welcome. Another room with another killer view…



We were hankering for some nature so we set out to walk to the beach. We wandered a bit through some gorgeous old stone and cobble streets, charming shops and tiny restaurants. Reminded me of Venice, a place to get lost around winding corners.





It took quite quite a lot of walking to find the beach, but it was worth it. Wind, waves and sand were lovely after a day of travel, even though we arrived in the dark. It was much warmer than in Paris, sixty degrees, though the locals were freezing. A taxi driver told us that it was unusually cold this winter and I just had to laugh as I left Massachusetts in a foot of snow.


Arriving at the harbor we were greeted by a large lobster sculpture. Susanna and I laughed, “We finally found the lobster!” (If you read my last blog, you will know it was the one thing we did not locate in the Palais Garnier game).



We stopped for Sangria to fortify our walk back our lodging where we were welcomed at the door with a friendly, “buenos noches” and handed our key. I was ready to put my feet up and my head down. I fell in love with Barcelona on day one.































