Irish Pub?

It seemed that Barcelona was on a mission to make us hate it. Well Barcelona, you failed. Barcelona is actually incredibly rad. Convincing fake beach and all.

Turns out the only things I took photo's of were in the giant amazing food market. Shows where my priorities lie I think. It was magnificent though. Why can't every city have something like it every day? Or at least Canberra.

Razor Clams. They may not look tasty, but they are the best seafood I've ever had. Except maybe dad's barbecued baby octopus... but that isn't in a market in Barcelona.

Where I ate my Razor Clams. Such a cool concept.

Where a beardy Spanish guy cooked the clams (they were really good OK?!)

Heeere fishy fishy fishy

My main, somewhat lunatic fantasy in this market involved me walking around browsing the fish stalls (as you do) running into Rick Stein, and having an involved conversation about the quality of Spanish fish. It wasn't until I went to this market that I realised the extent of my celebrity chef obsessions. In a more detailed fantasy Rick Stein then dumps his woman and runs off with me. Yes, It's odd, and I'm only half joking.

The whole centre ring of the market was made up of seafood stalls. It was so cool. They all looked and smelt so fresh and there was such a staggering, intriguing range of stuff. I admit I have no idea what three quarters of it was. I half wish I lived in Barcelona so that I could go to the market and get fresh food to cook with every day.

It took every ounce of self control I had not to buy the little marzipan mushroom guy and give him a name.

One day, thanks to a helpful little map, I found a narrow street that was lined with vintage clothing and antique stores. I didn't really find anything that cool or buy anything, but it was an enjoyable day of foraging. There was also a very cool record shop on the same street which I spent about an hour rummaging through. I like that after a session of flicking through thousands of second hand records you always end up with disgusting black fingers from the dust and grime on them. I didn't buy anything there either but the most tempting were Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here' (one of the greatest albums ever) and The Beatle Barkers: covers of Beatles songs sung by dogs. Oh, yes.

OK, I lied. I took a photo of Yoda too. He was on the street with all the rad shops.

I brought this pair of flats from Australia, where they were already looking a little on the worse for wear side. Cracked soles and holes in the side. None the less, I thought "Well you need to have something to wear with dresses, don't you?" and folded them (literally. The soles have hinges now...) into my bag. I was walking along in Munich one day when it finally went tits up. I took a step, heard a very conspicuous tearing sound... and kept walking as if nothing had happened. I might as well have been whistling in my attempt at nonchalance. Believe it or not, they're still OK to wear (if it isn't raining...) and they're still my dressy shoes. Unless you count Doc Martens, thongs or All Stars as dressy. Which I do not.

My 'dressy' shoes... Ick.

Courtney and I spent a delirious morning trekking up to Gaudi's park, at the top of a hill so steep that there were outdoor escalators to get to the top... most of them weren't working though. Slick. It was a nice park, save the same old wankers trying to flog the same old touristy trash to trashy tourists, and bus loads of sightseers left, right and centre. On top of that, pleasant as it was it didn't look like Gaudi's park so much as any old Tom, Dick or Harry's park. There really wasn't that much in it to immediately link it to him. Lot's of cacti though.

We then sat down to the most stressful lunch of our lives. We decided to splash out for once and have some Paella, what with being in Spain, and I have never been more aware of the location of Courtney's epipen in her handbag. However, Courtney didn't explode or die when she ate the prawn, so all of the nervous glances and silent freaking out was unnecessary. Tasty paella too.

I was told that Barcelona was damn cool, but was somewhat sceptical after the first night we had (dickhead gypsy etc.) Fortunately Barcelona was cool enough to make me forget that piece of unpleasantness. It was a lovely city to stroll around, had a very laid back vibe and many a funky little shop, and THE greatest food market ever. It was also such lovely weather most of the time and it was great to sit on the roof top terrace at the end of the day with a cup of tea and chill out. Every single smell of cooking seemed to waft up to that terrace, it was divine. I spent a fair few nights in Barcelona, but it is one of the cities we've vistited that I would like to return to some day.

Oh, and 'Irish pub?'... Every single city we've been in has had an Irish pub. Even if it's tucked away in the back streets I always seem to see one. In Barcelona there was a guy on the main street who just stood there with pamphlets saying 'Irish Pub?' in a Spanish accent as if it was question. It made me giggle every time.

Miss y'all!!

Love Bron xoxox