New blog rules have been instituted since my last post:
1: travel mates get to read it before posting
2: no posting until after I’ve had a glass of cava
My last post was rather grumpy and negative, and the girls reminded me we want our followers to be jealous they’re not here with us, not relieved. Saturday was a rough day for this girl…the jet lag finally hit me, as did a hangover, as did the fact that I haven’t been hydrating. But rest assured: we had a fantastic time in Barca, and none of us miss any of you.
We got out the door right on time Saturday, but with only 3-4 hours of sleep (again). We walked over to La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s masterpiece, and did little dances of happiness that there seemed to be no line. Those Catalan bastards fooled us though, as they’d switched the line around to the other side. It wasn’t quite as bad as the day before, and there was no way we were skipping going inside Barcelona’s most famous site, so we sucked it up, and it was well worth it. My years of vacation bible study totes paid off (Finally! Thanks mom!) and I walked the girls through the nativity and resurrection stories. Such heathens they are. Having learned our lesson in St. Peters two years ago that the lift ticket is always worth 2e, we went up one of the spires, and got some amazing views of Barcelona. The walk down was less than thrilling, considering Liza’s vertigo and EOB’s claustrophobia. But we made it with only a few tears….which actually were mine because I was so tired I could barely function. That being the case, I headed back home to rest for a bit while the ladies did some shopping and eating and strolling, which is what they do best.
After pounding some Emergen-C, I packed a five-hour energy and re-emerged from the cocoon. We met up again with our friend Indi and headed to the one place every single person told us was a top hit: La Xampaneria. It’s a tiny place near the beach with meats hanging from the ceiling and glasses of cava for less than a euro when you buy a snack. We each had four glasses, plus two sandwiches, plus some jamon, plus a sausage…all for 25e total. LOVE! Among my favorite things about this place was the absolute precision with which the servers poured glasses to be exactly full, and that their idea of “bussing” involved putting empty glasses in a bucket and brushing trash onto the floor. Charming.
We headed back home and got ready for our big night out: BARCELONA VIP PARTY NIGHT WHAT WHAT!! For 36e you got admission to four of Barca’s hottest bars and clubs, several free drinks, and transportation to each. On top of this, one of the bars was on the hill at Tibado, where EOB had really wanted to go. I still wasn’t feeling great until we got our “Countdown” on. As we sat waiting for the bus to arrive, 10 very handsome Germans strolled in, dressed all in black, and sat down next to us. The answer is: a bachelor party. What is: Game. On.
On the way up to Tibado, we popped a bottle of cava we’d brought along with us. The whole bus gasp in jealousy. That’s right bitches, that’s how we roll. At Maribau, everyone raced to grab seats on the side of the mountain, clearing the way for us to dominate the dance floor. We decided after about 45 minutes that we should enjoy the view for a bit, and after about 30 seconds of sitting, the DJ played the official TOD:ROTM2.0 theme song: “Tonight” by Pitbull and Ne-yo. So it was back to work.
From there we hit another dance club, which some of us don’t remember being at. I do, because I will never forget the way some of us took over said dance club. It was incredible. We put our hands up in the air sometime. We stood there and watched it burn. We put a ring on it. There was one last spot on the bar tour, but we stayed behind to listen to more top hits, not really feeling like the downgrade to house music. This sadly meant that EOB probably missed out on a German mack session, but the goals for this trip did not include making out with a German, they included making out with Spaniards and Italians, so she’ll be okay.
This morning we packed up our apartment, bid farewell to Barcelona, and hit the road for Calella Palafrugell on Costa Brava. That’s a whole other story unto itself, that I’ll save for next time. Costa Brava Pro: I’ve now seen both EOB & Liza’s boobs. Costa Brava Con: All four are better than mine.
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