Barcelona pages

After a wee hour freak out and a few hours of sleep, we connected with our host's agent Viviana this morning, and arranged to meet her at our apartment, five floors up in a stately old pile on the edge of Barcelona's Gothic Quarter...

We're awake well before first light strikes the spires of the Cathedral. Our bodies are still disoriented by the shift in venue. So today is a bye day for travel...

Perhaps we can be pardoned, but won't excuse ourselves, from the repeated fallacy of trying to go back to a wonderful place in the hope of finding it equally, or even more, delightful...

  [This entry has been damaged while upgrading the editor.] We stayed on the bus until we got to Casa Batlló, where we stood briefly in line and then joined the throngs (at least 50% Asian) viewing the place...

For me, one of the most important things about travel is being transported into a new perspective. I hint at that on the days before we leave home: how my experience of my familiar is changed, elevated...

Our bodies having (mostly) arrived, and remembering our traveling pace, today was a perfect day. Our first task was to find a printer to print our TGV tickets for Monday.

Our Barcelona routine: Up with the first church bells, and when the bakery across the street opens, I go get the croissants. On my way there this morning I took a picture of our Plaça...