Barcelon

We met up for a soggy, fun-filled weekend with Karla in Barcelon. But, you say, I recall vaguely some other time you were in Barcelon. Oh, you mean April? Well, we can't get enough of Spanish culture, Spanish prices, and, oh yeah, Karla too! We didn't have a serious agenda. When I asked Joe the night before we left what he wanted to do, he said; "Honestly, I want to eat and drink." Aspirations met, check. I still have a love hate relationship with crowded bars, but they just feel different in Spain. Knowing that I'll have to wrestle for a spot is suddenly not so unpleasant when I see a counter laden with delicious foods, smell the glorious things the folks next to us are eating, and look at the price list;) Vino de verano -50% Fanta limon, 50% vino tinto, 100% awesome, doesn't hurt either...they look pretty too, about the most enjoyment I got out of them.

As you can see from the photos, our one serious tourist attraction this trip was Casa Battlo. In April we passed on the house because Joe couldn't stomach the 18E admission, oh and R. Steves, doesn't even give it a passing mention in his section on Barcelon. Fail Rick Steves. Fail. This Gaudi house, commissioned as a private residence was an incredible view into architecture - the use of natural light, the innovative ways doors and railings were molded to fit perfectly into the hand, the brilliant blues, the fireplace built into a nook of ceramic to further conduct the heat. It was fascinating, a fact we all agreed on. No one ever mentioned again the cost of entering the site. A true indication that it was worthy.

Additional time was spent meandering, walking into shops and bars. There were two places, Ciudad Condal & Sagardi which we hit up twice during our short weekend. Sagardi is the place we originally discovered the vino de verano in April. It's a pinxto bar with little sammies sitting on platters all along the bar. The place has custom made Sagardi glassware, which is a bit thin. On the first trip there, Karla insisted she could 'crush a glass with her bare hand.' We joked about it and pretended to try to squeeze the glasses. However, when we returned, I egged her on a bit. Joe had just delivered my water and was waiting on his & Karla's drinks at the bar when I handed Karla my glass and said, let's see it. Not 10 seconds later, Karla was soaked in water, I'd just screamed in a bar, and she had a small cut on her thumb. Point taken. Don't mess with Karla.