A Lovely Day...in Bartha Town

Sunday morning, 8am. We’re half a block from the mostly-empty Plaza Espanya (Eh-Shpan-Ya). Mostly-empty save for those still out from the night before, like the posse of black-clad soccer hooligan types who pass on their way to the bodega across the street that was still open. Marc met us with Piya (sp?) in tow, the four-month old quadruped who is the new addition to the Marc-and-Nuira familia, and who was very happy to taste all that the street had to offer. We strolled in vain in search of coffee for some time, then settled on a place where the café con leche and the jambon sandwiches were muy muy bien, and the freshly-squeezed orange juice was phenomanal. After our fortifications we ambled towards La Rambla by way of a cool old bookseller’s market, then into the many intricate little streets that make the original Roman part of town so amazing. In some places you can still see original Roman foundations. Marc told us that, centuries ago, many of the streets in the area were controlled by guilds, and the historical impact still remains—we walked along the road where all the chocolatiers did—and still do—a brisk, sweet business. And each little street/guild has its patron saint, embedded in the walls for all to worship.

After rubbing elbows with centuries-old walls and hearing the near and far church bells, lunch started to sound like a good plan, and the Catalan tapas place Marc steered us towards offered the perfect munchies. I guess this region is not known for its tapas, but Marc has sussed out all the great places, so---it was good. Happy again we transitioned from Marc’s flat to Le Meridien Hotel, which is right on La Rambla, and got familiar with the concept of siesta. Ahhh, siesta. Bobbi thinks this needs to be a new RRBI company policy. I said we should sleep on it.

Up and out for a proper Barcelona dinner at 9pm, we met Marc and his better half Nuria, and their friends Dustin and Esther, and walked to a wonderful dinner at Origin 99.9. It was sort of tapas I guess---little-ish plates of food---and amazing. Wonderful little meats and cheeses, spinach pies and canalones and romesco peix and carrot soup and a few bottles of delicious wines from the little village Esther is from. An altercation between Nuria and Esther ensued about what gets rubbed onto the bread---garlic only (as in Nuria’s village) or both garlic and tomato (as in Esther’s village), but in the end Esther’s approach prevailed and all was tasty and good. Happy and full at 12:30a we ambled back along La Ramblas towards our hotel and off into dreamland.