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Melissa & Dave - Adventures at Sea

Pollyanna visits the big city

I went down to the restaurant to retrieve breakfast from the buffet.  They gave me a big tray to carry it back to Dave.  Neither of us is feeling well, we seem to have caught a cold, and at the moment, Dave seems to be worse off than I am.  Fortunately, we had planned to spend most of the day on the bus riding around Barcelona seeing the architecture.

Clothes still aren’t dry.  Hmmm….

We first went to the Casa Milà, which was one of Gaudi’s most interesting works.  There they have set up information on all of Gaudi’s works and the advancements he made in building design that are still used today.  We went from there to lunch (more tapas and Sangria) to the Sagrada Família.  The line looked to be about 2 hours long, and we didn’t have the patience to stand in it, so we walked around the outside of the building.  It’s pretty amazing, though utterly gaudy for my taste.

Reviewed the internet restaurant listings for Barcelona as we are getting a bit tired of the greasy tapas they serve in the tourist restaurants.  I find one that claims to be a 5 star restaurant near La Rambla and there is no reservation required.  We walk 1 mile down the La Rambla and turn onto a side street.  Here is the conversation that went on albeit only in our heads:

Melissa:  “This street looks Ok, lots of people.”
Dave:  “Uh Oh.”
Melissa: “Where’s the restaurant, dang it?”  <Checks the map for the 14th time>
Dave:  “I wish she would stop checking the map.  We look like tourist targets.”
Melissa:  <checks map again>

After walking a good half mile down the side street, we finally conclude we are not going to find the restaurant, and have the next conversation (out-loud this time):

Dave:  “Wow, those were for sure fake.”
Melissa: “Huh?”
Dave: “The tits on that hooker!”
Melissa:  “What hooker?”
Dave:  <doubled over laughing> “You’re kidding right?”
Melissa: <now looking around more closely> “Ah yes, the universal hooker dress code – leopard print spandex.”

We finally find a restaurant in a nice little square and order some steaks.  The Cava (local wine) we decided is just the Spanish version of champagne.  Really good though!  The Gazpacho tastes just like mine.  Hooray I must be making it right.  J  There were what appeared to be university students doing an acrobatic act for the pleasure of the tourists in the square.  Pretty impressive, though the argument between the different entertainment acts about who had rights to perform at this location was pretty interesting too.

After dinner, Dave decides I need a bit more education on big cities (hmmm, wonder what made him think that?).  So at 11:30, we head back to the alley.  Yikes.  Darker and way scarier at 11:30pm.  A few blocks in we make a u-turn because it’s just a little too scary.  Half a block from the main road, Dave stops and puts a light pressure on my hand.  I stop dead in my tracks and my heart starts to pound.  I’m looking around and wondering “what’s the danger? I don’t see anything that looks bad.”  A few moments later, we have this conversation after Dave starts walking again and we are back on the main road:

Melissa:  “What was that all about?”
Dave: “What was what all about?”
Melissa: “You know, back where you stopped us.”
Dave: “Huh?”
Melissa: “Back where it was clear you wanted us to stop.”
Dave: “Oh, I just wanted to see what that group of Aussies was talking about.”

Back on La Rambla, we are wandering along, and find an ice cream stand.  I am checking out one that is a violent blue color and wondering what flavor it could possibly be.  I look up to find Dave is nowhere about.  Great.  Here I am no money (I never carry a purse when we go out – I figure it is safer in the hotel  room safe so if we get mugged we only lose the ID and credit cards for one of the two of us), and I don’t know where Dave is.  I start to panic.  Another second goes by.  No sign of him.  I take a step forward in the direction we have been going and spot him off to the side.  And this conversation ensues:

Melissa:  “Why did you do that?”
Dave:  “I felt trapped.”
Melissa: “Trapped?  But why?  The street is wide open.”
Dave: “Yes, but standing there I couldn’t see around the corner.  On this kind of a street, no one will attack you outright.  It will be a bump you, get you off guard, while another guy picks your pocket type of situation.  Where I moved to, I had a better view of everyone, so no one could surprise me and distract me.”

Yep, forever I fear I will remain Pollyanna with my pigtails.  Sigh.

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