What I did on my holidays

Barcelona was very much a mixed bag. On the one hand, there was a great deal that was generally awesome... but it also seemed that almost everything was tainted by some circumstance that seemed designed to annoy.

The first thing of note was that I booked before purchasing my guidebook to the city. On reading said guidebook, I found a note to the effect that the worst possible time to visit Barcelona is in fact August, as a lot of places shut down and the heat can be overpowering. Oops.

Well, never mind. The flight out was rather tedious, as all such things are, but bearable. I had a whole row to myself, which compensated for their only be sufficient leg room for very tiny people. The airline then decided to wait just long enough before returning our bags to really worry us. And then, it was off to the hotel.

I was staying in the "Princessa Sofia Gran Hotel", which I had selected because it was second on the "Expedia recommends" list, and because they had a "3 nights for the price of 2" deal going on. As a result of this, it worked out at something like £60 per night, which for any hotel in any major city is a pretty good deal. It proved to be even better when the hotel came into view, and I discovered that it was in fact a ***** establishment.

So, the hotel proved to be astonishingly good. Indeed, it counts as the second best hotel I've ever stayed in (the best being the "Jung Frau Victoria" which I stayed in in December, which is regarded as one of the very best hotels anywhere in the world... and which my company were paying for. This is rather a difficult combination to beat, I think).

Anyway, the only slight downside of the hotel was that I didn't have opportunity to make full use of the facilities, as I hadn't actually gone to Barcelona for that purpose. Oh, and the restaurant was okay, but rather overpriced for the quality of it, especially given the availability of good food in the city at large.

Having checked in and dropped my bags, I went out for a wander, to see what I could see. And, en route back to the hotel I stopped at a restaurant and ate a meal. And, in the field of surreal events, I present this entry: during the course of the meal my waiter, who was Indian, engaged me in polite conversation, initially thinking I was from England. Undeterred by my saying I was from Scotland, he proceeded to ask me whether Scotland have a cricket team. To which I said that we do, but that they're not very good. And so, we had a Scotsman and an Indian discussing cricket in a Spanish restaurant.

Wednesday dawned, and looking out the window I found that it was raining. Raining!

Outraged by the lies of "My Fair Lady", I discarded my initial plan of riding the sightseeing tour bus, and instead took the metro to Las Ramblas, which is apparently the street to see in Barcelona. Being Scottish has the advantage, of course, that rain doesn't bother me overly, although it was a little unsettling that it was warm. Such things are not meant to be.

So, I saw the sights, and the rain eventually stopped. So, I decided to have an early lunch, then ride the sightseeing bus. Of course, seeking an early lunch meant that most places were closed, and so it was off to McDonalds. Nothing like eating local cuisine to get a feel for the place, no?

Having eaten, I left McDonalds and found that it was raining. Raining!

So, I once again abandoned the bus idea, and wandered lonely as a cloud once again. Of course, the actual clouds didn't seem lonely, but who can speak as to their innermost thoughts?

At length, I decided I'd seen enough, and I would return to the hotel to wait out the rain. So, back on the Metro.

When I emerged from the station close to the hotel, the rain had stopped, and did not return. At which point I cast my eyes skywards, and complained, "Oh, come on!" Nonetheless, I decided not to press the issue by riding that bus, but instead went back to the hotel and changed into some dry clothes. Then, I planned my next steps using my guidebook.

So, I dashed off to La Sagrada Familia, one of the 'must see' buildings in Barcelona. Which was very impressive - a fine example of Gaudi's work. So, I paid the entry fee and went inside... only to find it is a building site in there, and that actually there's nothing in there to see. Yippee! Still, there was the gift shop, where one can presumably purchase a commemorative piece of scaffolding.

For the remainder of that afternoon, I went to the Musea Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. The Romanesque and Gothic art was quite impressive, especially as it was laid out in a fairly chronological manner, so it was possible to see the development of different styles and techniques. The audio-guide was useless, though, as although it did explain the art, it did so at great length in a tedious monotone. Even worse, at times the droning voice would talk about features in the art that I'm sure weren't there, as though it was talking about something else entirely. It was just annoying, so I abandoned that in short order.

But that was no loss. What marred this activity was that when I tried to pay using my credit card, the guy had me input my PIN, then handed back the card... then apologised that the machine hadn't read it properly, so took back my card, had me enter my PIN again, returned my card again... then apologised that the machine hadn't read it properly...

At this point I paid in cash, but was then left with a significant worry - what had gone wrong? Three possibilities occurred: one, there was some sort of con going on (surely not in an art gallery?), two, the guy was just incompetent, or three, something had gone wrong with my card. It was that latter possibility that really worried me, since that card represented some 90% of the funds I had available with which to pay for things.

(Anyway, it turned out that my card was fine, although there are now two charges of €8.50 that I'm going to have to have removed from it. I'm still hoping theory #2 was right, but suppose I'll never know.)

After the museum, I returned to the hotel and ate at the hotel restaurant. Then I went out again, to see Las Ramblas at night. The events of the next few hours require their own post to detail.

Thursday dawned bright and hot. So, I got dressed and went to the beach, which was nice but very busy. So, I walked the length of the beach, enjoying the horizon, then walked along the beach the other way. I took the chance to observe the 'finest seafood restaurants in Barcelona'. I suspect this might have been more impressive if I didn't hate seafood, but nevermind.

The afternoon I spent seeing more buildings, parks and sights. The cathedral turned out to be another fine example of Gaudi's work... or would have, had it not been shrouded in scaffolding and green mesh. As it was, it was a fine example of scaffolding and green mesh. Which is something, at least.

Finally, I went to see the Arc del Triomf, which is different from the similarly-named landmark in Paris in that it is made out of brick, and not quite so ornate (it also doesn't sit at the top of a hill, so it is difficult to get a sense of the relative sizes of the two), and the Parc de la Ciutadella, which was a very fine park.

That done, I headed back towards the Metro, and chanced to be passing a fine-looking restaurant just as it opened, and so there I ate. Unfortunately, my credit card was once again rejected (this time the machine just didn't recognise it at all, so there was no potential problem lurking), so I had to pay with the last of my cash, which was more than a little annoying.

Then back to the hotel, where I had to get some more cash to pay for my taxi back to the airport, and then I gave up for the night. I had considered heading out to one of the clubs nearby, but given the unexpected outlay of cash, given that it didn't open until midnight, and given that I had an early flight, I elected for bed instead.

Friday I had to wake at 5, then pack and leave, and get a taxi to the airport. I now have a new least-favourite airport in Barcelona, which was truly annoying, being hot, stuffy, full of people, and staffed by the living dead. Still, I escaped alive. Then I endured a packed flight in which I was wedged in another row with insufficient leg room, and packed with a rather large couple filling all the remaining space in the row. And then I was home.

I should probably say at this point that although each event seemed to have something that went wrong with it, I did actually have a good time in Barcelona. My major objective had been to get away, get a break, and get some rest, and I actually did achieve that. And there was a whole lot in that city that was pretty awesome. It's just that sometimes it seemed things were designed to be annoying.