How to tell it all?

Himself arrived straight from Italy late in the afternoon and after a siesta, the games began with a drink on the Ramblas where we downed a sherry (him) and an unidentified red vino (me). We were headed for a eaterie we were assured by the tourist book was a hidden gem. A Paraguayan steak house that believed in slabs of dead animals and little else. By god, they were right.

It had to have been the best beef I've tasted in years. Mine was beef con pimentos, which was not, as I expected, beef with those red thingys all over it. It was beef in peppercorn sauce. David chose the beef in gorgonzola creme. You could hear those arteries harding as we ate. But it was worth every moment. I chose the "Sangre del Toro" wine over some feeble objections on David's part. But I told him he could choose his own, since my world fave has always been Hungarian "Bull's Blood". Thank god I'm a carnivore. This stuff was grand. D, astonished at my good taste (I choose to assume that was why he looked that way), fell to his knees in delight.

Am I being too dizzy and uncritical of the Catalan capitol? Sue me. Life is sweet after all those weeks of terror.

I couldn't sleep well last PM. Apparently the revenge of the be-hooved. I peeked out the window as I always do when I wake up and halleluia! Photo ops on the hoof (so to speak. Emergeth here a bovine theme???) There is an unassuming industrial looking building catty corner from the hotel. By day, you'd never notice it. But by night- it's Brisas del Caribe disco and who knows what all. I was mighty glad for all the nighttime shooting I've done in the past six months. It taught me how to blast away at our neighbors without getting too frustrated. It was all probably very innocent, but being of the cynical persuasion, I layered meanings on the scantily clad babes, guys hanging out and the most fascinating female bouncer I've ever seen. She had to be a bounceer by her stance and her camos....

Anyway, woke up with a start at well past nine this AM and after breakfast in a local pastry joint where an old Cuban woman mistook us for Parisians (?!?) headed toward the ultimate tourist site- Sagrada de Familia (I think). It's a fascinating church, in the process of being built for 125 years. The inside isn't even beginning to be done. It's mostly facade. But I suddenly realized that this is what it must have been for the people of Paris during the endless construction of Notre Dame, etc. We're not used to glacial construction timetables, in spite of the big dig....

Then- ah paradise. I hopped on a Bus Turistico, which is unlimited hop on hop off for 2 days. I've never stooped to tourist buses, but this one was recommended by a native who has used it occasionally to explore her own city. Whadda ride! The only disadvantage was that it showed me way too many thing to see over the next 36 hours. Do we need to return? You can't do Barcelona in four days! Duhhhhh.

Last stop before landing in the hotel for blogging and siesta was the Bouqueria- a giant food market with hanging slabs of flesh, mounds of fresh veg and nuts and fruit, etc. Although half he stalls were closed by the time I got there, I still shot pix dizzy with color and excitement....

And on the way home, some exciting new shots of the smokestacks against blue skies...

And now to sleep...