Easter in Barcelona

Now, to be honest, after finishing up the busy season, with no vacations or relaxing weekends since January, I could have spent Easter weekend just about anywhere and been happy (as long as it wasn’t in Zurich working). BUT I would like to think that Barcelona is one of new favorite cities for reasons outside of work and the need for a holiday.

Thursday morning, I hopped on the plane and found myself in beautiful Barcelona in time for lunch. The rest of the crew was down in Valencia for the day (or flying in on Friday), so I had the whole afternoon to sit on the beach, enjoy the scenery, de-compress from work and start the vacation with a cold beer and the best rotisserie chicken I have ever had (sorry Dad).

The good food and drinking continued from the moment of landing until I left on Sunday afternoon. I ate chicken at O’Pollo on Playa Barceloneta, had nachos at FUC bar with my new friend Joshua (a fellow traveler who was nice enough to spend the evening with me while I waited for everyone to get in town from Valencia), tapas at both Shoko Bar (great dancing) and at Tapas Tapas, Paella at Le Quinze Nits and Pork Stew at the second oldest restaurant in Spain. Not to mention the drinks at Dow Jones Bar (where the price of beer is determined by how much people buy it) and all of the random Irish Pubs we were forced to visit after getting kicked out of a cab (but I am getting ahead of myself).

We spent the days touring the city, checking out all of the famous architecture by Gaudi, shopping on Las Ramblas (trying to avoid the creepy statue guys and pick pocketers) and drinking sangria. The sites were followed by siestas in the afternoon (at our shady hostel on the beach), dinners at 11pm and then dancing and bars.

Man, the Spanish have got it right…work all day, with a mid-day siesta, a late dinner and then dancing until the sun comes up…Truly a beautiful city and culture.

One funny but brief story I feel obligated to tell: On Saturday night it began to rain and therefore cabs were non-existent. We finally managed to hail one down to take 4 of the 8 people to the bar. Upon getting in the cab though, I noticed that the meter flag rate was 3 times higher than it had been all weekend, so I felt inclined to point it out. Unfortunately the cab driver did not appreciate my honest move and decided to throw us all out of his cab about 50 meters down the road. When the cab driver so kindly opened the door for us, we were greeted with the remaining 4 people thinking that they had scored another open cab. It turns out the flag rate was correct and I was wrong, however it worked out in the end as the group remained together. The confusion might have been in part due to my attempt of speaking the new language of Span-germain-glish.