Okay the Sagrada is amazing, and if you ever get the opportunity it is an awesome experience visually, architecturally and spiritually. It is also a great way to tone up your abdominal muscles, practice avoidance of other people looking up at the vaulted tree-like pillars to the ceiling and ensure a trip to the chiropractor for neck re-alignment! After we left, we were both famished as we hadn't eaten for 4 hours. Happened across a market on the way back and ended up sitting at...a tapas bar! wHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT! Ordered 2 cervaza por favor and some tortilla for each of us - OMG, so good! We told the bar dude how good it was and he started talking to us and then came around the bar, went to the next stall and picked up an aubergine! WOW! Paul's first taste of aubergine in a very unlikely place! We then asked what was in a dish in front of us - the bar keep acted out intestines. We said tripe? and he nodded yes, along with chorizo and morcilla. When in Rone we thought and ordered that too. It was accompanied by tomato bread and normal bread. Tara bravely went in first, and it was strangely textured like the fat that you get on the inside of a great pork crackling. Very tasty but quite fatty. Needless to say Paul almost overdosed on this! Not quite to tara's liking, but it can now be checked off of the list! Happened across the Casa battlo on our return to the hotel. They now offer drinks at night on the terrace, so Paul went and bought some. not often you get the opportunity to spend some night time in such a beautiful place! went and bought some yummy food for a quiet night in, happily polishing off yet another lovely bottle of spanish wine when Paul says - what's the date? tara answers, Paul throws out expletives and says that the tix he bought for tomorrow are actually for tonight!!! Curse, splutter, curse. Tara laughs, they walk up to the building on a gorgeous night and into this most amazing house, built for a very priveleged family at the turn of the 20th century, get some lovely cava, wander the rooms of this stunning home, listen to an amazing solo artist in the front salon, overlooking Passeig Gracias, and then sit out on the terrace in the humid night with light rain falling gently. Such an amazing experience! Needless to say Paul ended up having a good time too! All for 25 euro each - priceless! We also walked up to the magic fountain one night after doing an all day bus tour around the city. Found a cool place to eat and once again absolutley porked out on tapas - tara's tapas tummy is coming along well, aided by the beer belly and wine wobble! The magic fountain was awesome, purely for the prowess that Paul has developed with his camera finger! There are something like 7 million photos of the fountain still waiting to be downloaded from the poor pentax! One of the last woderful things that we did here in beautiful Barcelona was - go out for lunch!!! at the 4 Cats, another Modernisme haunt, with wonderful food, incredible service - Perth waiters listen up!!! - and great ambience. Sigh, do we have to go???? Yes, the jeans are not going to fit if you keep this up! Oh, and as usual, Paul has already outshopped tara (not hard really!), buying clothes and shoes... is there such a word as effeminated???!!!
back in Paris, we are in the 10th arrondisement this time - a stones throw from Republique for those who know, and an easy 30min walk to the Marais, where Tara spent a lot of time just wandering, sitting and going to museums and art galleries. This is a week of Paul at the Cartographic conference that he can put into a separate blog. When going to register we came across the Champs Eleysees (as you do!) closed to traffic! no, not for the Tour de France(which we are following avidly by the way) but for some Afro-Franco demonstration. The French riot police (girls - read hot and spunky!) were out in force. Tara has worked out from extensive empirical observation that in France, as a male you are placed into levels of police based on your looks and how well you carry off your outfit. The very spunkiest are reserved for the pompiers (fire men!!!). Believe me, you need a strong constitution as a female in Paris - I could easily become a pyromaniac, just to get the pompiers out!!! Also, we found out that Kronenburg is not Krononburg, it is 1664, which had Paul pffting and foffing for a moment or 2!
The Paris experience wouldn't be as it is though, without a strike or 2 to curtail your plans. A train strike to Versailles put tara into a spin on our 2nd last proper day in Paris
