EUROPE!!!

Spain - Day 1 - Escape from LA

After over a year without a real vacation, Ingrid and I packed up our things for a huge trip to Europe. We had big plans and even bigger expectations, with plenty of time to fulfill them. Just as we did on our trip last year to Brazil, we suited-up in our most comfortable travel gear and got a ride from my mom to the airport to begin our well-deserved vacation.



My sentiments exactly... We were En Route to being Duty Free. It's difficult to imagine, but this trip would bring us a full 16 days worth of unfettered freedom, starting right now.



The first leg of our trip was from LAX to London's Heathrow Airport, via Virgin Atlantic Airlines. I've heard so many good things about Virgin and got super-excited when I saw all the seatback monitors on board, which made me wonder how many movies I could squeeze into the flight.



Well let me tell you that all those people who said good things about Virgin must have been under six feet tall, because the plane had less leg room than any other plane I've been on. Immediately after sitting down, I could tell it was going to be a really long flight for me. Tiny little Ingrid, on the other hand, was loving it and had no space issues, especially when she got comfortable by putting her legs on top of mine. I guess that's what happens when you fly coach.



Well, Virgin, I know you hoped my flight would be enjoyable, but maybe you should've given people just an inch more of leg room. It would've done wonders for the taller passengers' comfort level. I had to spread out my legs to get comfortable, and with the aisle seat, that meant nearly everyone who walked down the aisle bumped my leg as they passed. It's rather difficult to get any good sleep when things keep hitting your leg. Thankfully, a dose of Ny-Quil, together with some lemon water helped me to salvage some decent sleep time.



Remember the whole eyemask situation on our trip to Brazil last year? Well we came equally unequipped for this trip, but thankfully, Virgin provided each of us with complimentary eyemasks. Ingrid was thrilled.



After getting bumped into about a thousand times, we finally arrived in London, where we were scheduled to catch a connecting flight on British Airways to Barcelona, Spain, our first vacation destination. Here's my first view of London, which reminds me of my father's old trench coat made by London Fog.



One thing I've come to realize is that traveling is a very stressful event. Apparently, British Airways knows this too, and has a "Notice to Customers" posted at the front of this line which informs passengers that no verbal or physical abuse of employees is permitted and that any such abuse will result in legal action. Ingrid's urge to express her frustration at the employees was curbed by the thought of being put in jail. Perhaps it's not the stress brought about by traveling that caused Director of British Airways to post this sign, but rather that British Airways knows the people working its counter are obnoxioius and inept.



We spent a considerable time in the London airport waiting for our gate to be announced, where we did a little shopping and grabbed a tiny bite to eat. It occurred to me after seeing this place that gambling is legal in London and in Spain too. In fact, in London, you can apparently hit up the slot machines and then walk two feet to your left and play kids' video games. Very interesting...



After a brief flight, we finally arrived in Spain at around 10:00 PM on Saturday, without suffering any major hiccups. It's really no wonder Europeans are so well-traveled. A couple hours gets you pretty much anywhere out there, whereas a couple hours out of LAX gets you to Texas. What a gyp. In any event, please note how heavily we packed for this trip. It'll come into play later.



As luck would have it, our visit coincided with the weekend of a major Formula One event held annually in Barcelona since 1991, which meant that most of the hotels were fully-booked and the ones with vacancies cost an arm and a leg for a tiny room in a two- or three-star hotel. Fortunately, after searching high and low, Ingrid secured us a nice room at a decent price.



In an effort to cut our expenses, we caught a bus into the heart of Barcelona from the airport, where we wheeled all our heavy bags around the streets like true tourists, or as the natives say, turistas.



After a great amount of effort, I somehow managed to convince Ingrid that rather than try to familiarize ourselves with Barcelona's public transportation system (which includes a complicated network of underground trains) at 10:00 at night while lugging our bags around, it was probably a better idea to simply hail a cab. It just so happened that there were many others waiting for cabs as well... but no matter, there was no work the following day and more importantly, we were in Spain!



Travelling with Ingrid is great. Particularly in this case, where she's able to communicate with the natives. I'm literally just along for the ride. Speaking of which, here's a short clip of our ride to the hotel where you can hear Ingrid getting the inside scoop from the cab driver.



Before leaving the States, my mom joked about how Ingrid would somehow have to get by without any Japanese food for the entire trip, which sparked some paranoia in Ingrid at the thought of not being able to eat any sushi for 16 days. That fear was quickly alleviated, however, on our way to the hotel where we spotted this Restaurant Japones. Thank goodness.



We finally arrived at our hotel, Hotel Mikado, and settled-in. The hotel was located in a great, seemingly upscale, part of the city... perfect for Ingrid and me.



There was a full moon out that night, and the streets outside our hotel were empty. It was so serene and beautiful that it really bolstered Ingrid's argument that we would be much happier if we permanently relocated to Spain. If my entire family weren't in LA, I would truly consider it. Perhaps a brief stint overseas may be in order, though.



By the time we finally unloaded our bags and headed out for a bite, it was already approaching midnight. We took to the streets in search for some food and wine, with no particular destination in mind.



What?!? Another Restaurant Japones? Ingrid gestured two thumbs up, but this actually made me begin to worry that we would be eating sushi for the entire trip! Why come all the way to Spain to eat sushi? It makes no sense. Rather than sushi, we should be enjoying tapas, wine, iberico and other wonderful Spanish foods, which, thankfully, is what we ultimately did.



It was past midnight, yet neighborhood restaurants were open and locals were still out enjoying food and drinks. Ahhhh. These people really know how to live life. I knew then that this trip would be wonderful.



We grabbed a table outside of this place for our first glass of wine in Spain. Ingrid made an interesting observation that it's not just young people who stay out late in Spain, but that people of all ages seem to be out and about.



Exhausted from all of the traveling, we headed back to our room shortly after 1:00 to re-energize for tomorrow's big day... our first full day in Barcelona. It was no secret, I couldn't wait.

Spain - Day 2 - Barcelona by Bus

In Spain, I don't look like the people, I don't sound like the people and I don't dress like the people. Furthermore, given that I've done so little traveling in my life, I thought why not just accept the fact that I'm tourists and do some touristy things. Ingrid was on board, so the next morning we caught a double-decker roofless tour bus to transport us around the city.



It was Sunday, so many were tucked away in church. Unfortunately, since it was Sunday, all of the museums were closed, so we had to scratch that off our list of things to see.



Never having set foot in Europe before, everything was new to me. It was wonderful. Even the streets of Barcelona were different, but I'll do my best to spare you readers from the countless pictures I took of absolutely nothing, like the one above.



Our hotel was situated in a residential part of Barcelona which put us right in local neighborhoods away from tourists like ourselves, and being amongst the locals was great.



Is that pizza?!? I'm not sure that this is pizza, but after seeing it, I caught a really bad case of the pizza bug. It was probably this sight, combined with the pizza place we walked by late the night before that brought on an unsatiable craving for pizza, pizza and more pizza.



Ingrid's in heaven when she's in Spain. These freshly baked goods had her mouth watering. She wanted to immediately stop and purchase some of these tasty treats, but I discouraged her from doing so since it was, literally, the first place to eat that we came across. Of course, I would come to regret suggesting we look around, as later, in typical Ingrid fashion, she let me know that we likely missed out on the best bakery in all of Barcelona...



The tourist bus was a great deal. First, as you can see, there weren't many tourists on the bus. We got to Spain a few weeks before the tourists really come out in droves, so we lucked out in that respect. Second, it's an open-air bus which not only provided fresh Spanish air, but gave us unobstructed views of the city as we rode around town. Third, there were three bus routes that took covered most of the city, and stopped at various points of interest. Passengers could get on or off a their leisure, beginning from early morning until evening.



According to the tour guide, this is the Barcelona soccer (futbol) team's home stadium. Although not evident in this picutre, people were lined up outside this fence waiting to get a glimpse of their favorite players as they exited a bus. Later in our trip we experienced first-hand, how fanatic people in Spain get over futbol.



Back in law school, Ingrid spent a semester in Spain. During that time, there were no Starbucks to be found anywhere. She told me that the concept of picking up a coffee on-the-go was just not culturally common. Well the Spanish people are one of us now, with Starbucks sprouting up everywhere.



Ahhh, one of my favorite Spanish elements -- the roundabout. This is a huge roundabout at the intersection of about four major streets. After renting a car, I would later learn that these things are pretty difficult to navigate. See those lines separating one car from the next? They mean absolutely nothing.



Here's a lovely tree-lined street in Barcelona. I'm telling you, when you're on vacation there, everything is beautiful.



I mean look at this. You just don't see architecture like this in the States, and it's another element of Spanish culture that I immediately took note of. I snapped numerous pictures of just the local architecture like this one. And again, I'll try to keep the number of these types of pictures to a minimum, but some of them are just so so neat...



We hopped off the bus and took a walk down an area of Barcelona commonly known as the Barrio Gotico -- the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona.



The Barrio Gotico consists largely of a maze-like network of these amazing narrow corridors. I've never seen anything like it.



I could have spent hours wandering around that area...



... taking picture after picture.



Here's yet another awesome concept I couldn't help but appreciate -- the plaza. As one might imagine, a plaza is an open area in the middle of a part of the city where people can gather and hang out. They're all over the place in Spain and I think they're one of the best ideas for a city. Not sure why we don't we have this concept in the States, but we should.



Here's another plaza with vendors selling various items. These plazas are a great place to sit back, relax and people-watch.



We slowly made our way toward one of the main walkways in Barcelona -- Las Ramblas. But before we left the Barrio Gotico, Ingrid captured a shot of me on the streets of Barcelona. Very cool.



On our way to Las Ramblas, we passed by this museum. Spain gave us the famous artist, Salvador Dali, whose works were mimicked in various knickknacks sold around the city.



Needless to say, this was not one of them, but rather a person covered in junk. If this guy's hand weren't showing there on the bottom left, he'd be difficult to make out. He was one of many street performers on Las Ramblas, most of which were equally unimpressive.




Like this person (the video is rotated, but I don't know how to fix it)...



As you walk down Las Ramblas, you eventually reach this tall monument which was erected in commemoration of Christoper Colon, or better known to us in the States as Christopher Columbus. Chris is perched atop this structure pointing toward the Americas. At first it seemed strange to me that he is know as Columbus in the States and that no one is really aware of his real name, but then I realized that in English, Chris' real name isn't so good. Celebrating Colon Day doesn't exactly make me want to jump for joy... In fact, it makes me want to sit.



I couldn't get quite as high as Mr. Colon, but I could certainly point like him. That's right, I live over there!



We headed past the monument to the marina and continued even further, taking in the sights.



We took a quick stroll through this mall and caught a glimpse of the locals running errands...



... and also caught a glimpse of ourselves in the huge mirrors above.



This structure may ring a bell for some of you who are at least as old as me. Back in 1992, the Summer Olympics were held in Barcelona. This gold fish-like structure was a common image during coverage of the games. The word amongst the locals is that ever since the Olympics were held here, the entire city has cleaned up dramatically. The cost of housing there is so high, that many people in their 30s with decent jobs are unable to afford a house and still live with their parents.



We eventually hopped back on the tour bus and headed toward our next destination. On the way there, we caught a glimpse of this famous structure. Hmmmm...



After leaving Spain, somebody asked me, "What is something interesting that you'll remember about Spain as being different than the States?" You're looking at my answer. This is a normal intersection between two city streets yet it looks entirely different than intersections in the States. Confused? Well let me explain. One of the interesting (or not so interesting) things I noticed is that many corners of city blocks in Spain are actually the entrances to structures... something you don't really see in the States.



I took more shots of the architecture as we rode the bus around town.



The bus eventually circled back around to Plaza Cataluñya, the place we first got off the bus to explore the Barrio Gotico, and headed on to Avenida Diagonal (pronounced dee-AH-goh-NAHL), one of the main commercial streets in Barcelona, which, as the name suggests, cuts diagonally across the otherwise rectangular city blocks.



In addition to Salvador Dali, Spain was home to yet another famous artist/designer -- Antoni Gaudi. Gaudi designed many buildings throughout the city with a very unique style. What I leared from briefly reading about him was that he took elements from nature and noticed that there are no straight lines in nature, applying the same concept in designing structures. The best part about his work is that it can actually be found throught the city in structures like the one above.



Here's another building designed by Gaudi (and another example of a Spanish street corner).



Well after the tour around town, Ingrid and I had built up a raging appetite. We hopped off the bus at Diagonal and wandered the area looking for a place to eat. Our hunger eventually forced us to stop searching and untimately decide on this place, Tapa Tapa. I'm not sure if this establishment is something like Baja Fresh or Fatburger here in the States, but I could really care less because the food was damn good.



Spanish thing I'll miss #1: Patatas Bravas. A very common dish in Spain is something called "Patatas Bravas," which are fried potatoes covered in a mayo-based, mildly spicy sauce (think: french fries, but 10 times better). For me, it was love at first bite and I couldn't get enough. Seeing this picture makes my mouth water. Oh yeah, we also had the paella, which was good too, together with some wine and beer. Mas patatas bravas, por favor!



As I sat there with the breeze blowing in my face, patatas bravas and paella in my belly, a glass of beer in my hand, and the love of my life sitting next to me, I couldn't have been happier. This is what life's all about. Ahhhh. Burp!



After filling up on tapas, we hopped back on the bus to catch Gaudi's most famous work. Although unfinished, La Sagrada Familia, standing in the middle of the city, is a major tourist attraction.



The entrance is quite grand and we got off the bus to take a closer look.



Ingrid said the guy on the right looks like me. I would tend to agree. I'm usually making that face when I'm not on vacation.



We paid a small entrance fee and headed inside where saw this amazing display of stained glass.



As I mentioned, La Sagrada Familia is far from being complete and has been continuously worked on for decades now. I highly doubt the place will ever be completed. The place is massive.



Here's an example of how Gaudi took elements from nature (in this case, floral elements) and incorprated them into his design. As I admired the architecture...



... Ingrid admired the pack of peanut M&M's in the vending machine.



That's right, sucka, you're busted!



We continued around the ground floor and decided to head up into those skyscraping towers.



Being the cheap asses that we are, we refused to pay for a lift to the top and, instead, took this very impressive staircase up... way up.



That's a great idea, Ingrid, let's take a break. What are we, about 10 stories up?



Hey, Ingrid, get a shot of me sitting on the edge of this balcony while I catch my breath...



Although it was strenuous, taking the stairs was the better approach, as every now and again, on the way up, you could step out onto balconies and take a look around.



From so high up, you could see the entire city. Hey, there's that famous building again. It looks like a giant [insert name of animal in picture below].



I'm sure that's why its so famous.



We eventually made it to the top, as you can see, and the climb was well worth it.



On the way down, we took this shot, which took a whole lot of coordination, as you might imagine, especially since there's only enough room for one person as you're going down the spiral staircase, so you really can't go back up.



The detail in this place was unbelievable.



Here's a portrait of the man himself.



After leaving La Sagrada Familia, we made one final stop at another of Gaudi's attractions. But in order to get there, we had to hike up a long hill.



After climbing all those stairs, the hike was understandably tiring.



At the top of the hill was Park Guell, a park designed by the famous Gaudi.



The structures at Park Guell were almost storybook-like... or perhaps a better description is that they resembled small gingerbread houses with icing on top.



Within the confines of the park is this famous mosaic lizard. Hey girls, get out of my picture!



We climbed past the lizard and continued up more stairs.



Here's an interesting corridor in the park. If not for the people standing there, you'd think the picture was crooked.



At the top of the stairs was this huge open area, with beautiful, curved mosaic benches around the perimeter.



From there, you could see the entire city of Barcelona. It was breathtaking.



Ingrid and I needed a rest after all that hiking and climbing so we took a seat and relaxed for a while as the sun set.



It began to get dark and the park had begun to clear out, so we headed back to catch the bus to our hotel. But before we left, I got a shot of Ingrid by the famous Barcelona lizard.



After getting off the bus, we headed toward our hotel and came across this great restaurant, Versatil, where we ate dinner.



There, we we enjoyed some fine Spanish wine, cheese and bread with the locals. It was a wonderful meal and just our style.



Suffering from jetlag, after dinner we walked the neighborhood and watched a bit of TV until 3:00 A.M....



... at which point, being the good children that we are, we called our mothers to wish them a happy Mother's Day.



As Ingrid chatted long distance with her mom, I took the opportunity to fiddle around with my camera and take some cool pictures.



This is one of my favorites.

Spain - Day 3 - Touring the Town

Does this look familiar? Well if it doesn't, it should. This is the bakery we "passed up" the morning of our second day in Spain. The same place where Ingrid was sure had the best baked goods in all of Barcelona. Of course, the next morning, she insisted we head back to that same bakery. I had my doubts, but agreed to give it a shot just to make her happy. I mean, how can you resist a face like this?... She's so delighted to be there.



For once, Ingrid may have been right. The goods at this bakery were absolutely scrumptious. She ordered a couple skinny, freshly baked baguettes with cured ham (or jamón) and cheese inside. They were delicious. In case you didn't know, the Spanish people love jamón. During our time in Spain, I must have eaten more cured ham than I normally do in an entire year. But that's not to say that I didn't enjoy every tasty bite!



After enjoying our fantastic sandwiches, we hopped back on the tour bus to explore another part of Barcelona. This part, however, wasn't as nice as the other parts. And, apparently, graffiti is a problem no matter what country you're in.



If this is the name of a Barcelona gang, I should be an honorary member.



From the top of our tour bus we saw another bus operated by the same company. This is different from the bus shown in the first picture of Day 2 of our trip and is the better of the two tour bus companies in Spain, and we would later learn this from experience. Go Bus Turistic!



Not being sure what we wanted to see next, we got off the bus here and took a look around. There was some "mot-OH" exhibition going on, but we never really found out what that was.



Instead, we hiked up a walkway to this huge government building that supposedly has a beautiful fountain, which is turned on at night. Too bad it wasn't later in the day.



After riding the bus a bit further, we got off at what Ingrid dubbed the "Universal Studios of Spain".



The concept of this place was that it was a conglomeration of the different architecture from various parts of Spain. Although Ingrid despised the notion, I though it was quite nice.



And what could be nicer than a sandwich and a pitcher of sangria to wash it down?



It may have been touristy, but our scheduling didn't permit us to see every corner of Spain, and this was one way of catching a glimpse of different areas.



From Ingrid's standpoint, one of the few saving graces for the place was this Picasso exhibit, which Ingrid appreciated. I shared in her sentiment, especially given that the timing of our trip didn't allow for any museum visits.



Immediately upon entry into the Picasso exhibit, we were told "no pictures"... but that clearly did not stop us from horsing around (pun intended). Ingrid noted that with all the Picasso works scattered throughout the world, this guy must have been so busy, just churning out work after work after work. Reminds me of my job.



After getting a dose of contemporary art, Ingrid led the way to the sculpture garden.



All that walking around eventually caught up with me so I joined this tired old man for a snooze, despite reading signs to "keep off grass." Yes, we're terrible people who don't follow rules.



There was interesting art scattered throught the sculpture garden. Not sure what's going on here, and I'm not sure I want to know. Hmmmm...



From the top of the sculpture garden, you could see the entire city and we sat around for a while just taking it all in.



On our way out of that place, I had my first unpleasant encounter with the Spanish people. I wanted to use the restroom before getting back on the bus and asked a girl who worked there to direct me to the restroom. Below is how our conversation went. Please keep in mind that there was no language barrier to get in the way, as the girl spoke perfect English.

Excuse me, can you please tell me where the bathroom is?
They are everywhere.
Well can you please direct me to one?
Which one?
Umm, the closest one.
I cannot tell you which one is closest. They are all close.
Well where is one of these close bathrooms?
Everywhere.
Are you telling me you can't tell me where the bathroom is? Is there one that way *pointing*?
There is one over there *pointing in multiple directions and in no particular direction*.
Uhhh, okay.

I am not exaggerating. This is an actual conversation I had. "They are everywhere"?!?!?!?! Thanks a lot, lady.



Well after finding the restroom, we boarded the bus which took us past this structure designed by a Japanese guy. Very cool.



The bus also passed the stadium where the Olympic Games were held, which appeared to be completely barren.



It was a sunny day and as the bus circled back to Las Ramblas, we got a great view of the harbor...



... and noticed that traffic is a problem no matter where you go.



It's time again for some more great pictures of the Spanish architecture.



And another example of a Spanish street corner.



The bus eventually took us back to Las Ramblas, which was extremely crowded.



We decided not to get off at Las Ramblas and headed to Avenida Diagonal to grab lunch. We selected this place, which turned out to be a huge mistake. It was the only bad meal we had during our entire trip. After falling in love with the patatas bravas from Tapa Tapa the day before, I thought I'd enjoy some more here, but instead of tasty potatoes in sauce, I got crispy potatoes sitting in a pool of oil. Come to think of it, everything we ordered from that place was super oily. Yuck.



Better to stick with something I know... something I know very, very well.



After a very heavy lunch, we decided to visit Sant Cougat, the place Ingrid stayed during her brief stint in Spain while in law school.



Not only that, we decided to take the subway to get there.



At first, I was a bit confused by the subway system, but quickly became familiar with it. I'm sure I could find my way around even without my trusty translator.



Sant Cougat seemed like a very quaint, upscale neighborhood and I could see that it would be a perfect place for Ingrid to choose to live.



It had been so long since Ingrid had been to Sant Cougat that we had difficulty finding the place Ingrid lived after taking a wrong turn. Back when Ingrid was here, she rented a room in this house. She claims she spent many nights thinking about me and wishing I was there, but I'm sure she's just saying that. This house is where she met her friend Evelyn, who rented another room in the same house. According to Ingrid, the lady who owned this house was going through a divorce at the time and needed rental income to support her lifestyle, but didn't particularly care much to have the two of them in her house. I'm glad we didn't run into her.



We later walked to the main part of the town to see the places Ingrid used to spend time (thinking about me, of course). Sant Cougat is a lovely little town and it was a great escape from the city.



As we walked down the street a pungent odor overcame us as we passed by this store. As I mentioned before, the Spanish people love jamón. And there is no better jamón than jamón ibérico, which is made from the black-coated ibérico pig. True ibérico piggies are fed only acorns for a period of time before they are slaughtered. This results in jamón with regular flecks of intramuscular fat in the slices of ham, which creates a smooth texture and rich savory taste. After the pigs are slaughtered, they are salted and left to dry for two weeks, after which they are rinsed and left to dry for another four to six weeks. The curing process then takes about nine months, although some producers cure their jamones ibéricos for over two years. Because jamón ibérico only accounts for about 5% of Spain's cured-ham production, it is very expensive and is seldom exported. Throughout Spain, cured ham can be purchased in local stores, but at this store in Sant Cougat, this was the only thing that could be purchased.



The store had the widest variety of jamón, including jamón ibérico. Not only that, but numerous pig legs were lined up on display and ready to be thinly sliced upon request. No wonder it smelled so foul around that area...



These huge lumpy sacks hanging on the wall are actually entire pig legs that are also available for purchase. For only 525 Euros, you can be the proud owner of one of those on the right there.



Even to the amateur eye, the differences in quality are readily apparent. Here are the lower-grade meats which look more brownish-red and have stringy, frayed fat striations.



These higher quality meats look much more appetizing, but cost an arm and a leg more. No pun intended. If you can get around the fact that these are actually cured pig legs, you might be able to enjoy feasting on some jamón. If Ingrid could get around the smell that emanated from that place, I would have ordered some of the jamón ibérico.



A couple of dry heaves later, we headed further down the road to this local church and plaza, where we had a seat and relaxed as the sun set.



It was great to be there with no work and no responsibility. It was what I had been waiting for all year long, and as I sat there with Ingrid watching the little kids play soccer in the courtyard, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if we left our jobs at the firm and moved to Spain for good.



As night fell, we made our way back to the subway and headed back to Barcelona. Ingrid took three shots of me standing here, and this is the best of the bunch. She's clearly not Japanese.



When we got back to Barcelona, we headed out to Las Ramblas and wandered around, trying to find a place to eat.



Many of the places we wanted to eat were closed or had zero availability, so we stopped at Cafe Zurich and sat on the patio to enjoy some food and drinks. More vodka on the rocks please.



This would be a cool picture if not for Ingrid's purse in my lap. After being warned by numerous people about thieves yanking purses from women's hands, I did my part to protect Ingrid's expensive purse. I doubt any one there would try, since they all think I look like Jackie Chan and know Kung-Fu. Being well-acquainted with the public transit system at this point in our stay, Ingrid and I caught the bus back to our room at the end of the night.

Spain - Day 4 - Palafrugell, Por Favor

Here we are again. Same bakery, different day. Ingrid simply couldn't get enough of this place. Unfortunately, when we arrived, those tasty sandwiches we enjoyed a day earlier had yet to be prepared. We were told it would be about 10-15 minutes before they would be ready, and of course, Ingrid wanted to wait.



So wait we did. After 10 mintues, the sandwiches still had not been prepared. And after 15 minutes, still no sandwiches. But that couldn't stop Ingird. Look at her... she's stone-faced and determined.



Fortunately for me, I was able to satisfy my craving for pizza that morning after finding some mini pizzas at the bakery.



Those mini pizzas were filled with such buttery goodness, I bought every last one and must have eaten over a dozen. Luckily for me, Ingrid only caught on to the scrumptiousness of the pizzas after I had already eaten most of them. Heh heh.



Finally, the sandwiches were brought out from the back and we were there to greet them. Ingrid would have been happy, but the sandwiches were slight different from the ones we had the day before. The new batch only had cheese in them. Nevertheless, they were still delicious and only a slight let down without the jamon.



This marked the last day in Barcelona for us and we took the subway to the car rental place. Our plan was to head north along the coast of Spain and get some sun at a Spanish beach.



On the way to the car rental place, I spotted this Spanish firehouse. Strangely, they're called "bombers" over there.



Prior to leaving for Spain, I had scrambled around last minute to get an international driver's license, only to not even be asked for it when we rented the car. There had been a lot of debate between Ingrid and me about which beach we should visit, but our trusty Lonely Planet guidebook suggested we hit the beach at Calella de Palafrugell.



It was quite an adventure getting there, but once we arrived, we weren't disappointed. The place was beautiful and a perfect place for us to relax.



What made the place even better is that there were very few people even on the beach. As I mentioned before, we were in Spain just before the peak tourist season, and shortly before this place gets packed with literally thousands of visitors. It was perfect in so many ways. It was like we were in another world. A beautiful, unpopulated world... a world with beautiful beaches and clear water... a world with plenty of sun... a world you can get lost in... a world where you can lose your car keys. That's right. I lost the rental car keys there. After realizing this, I immediately began rummaging through the sand, thinking that it would be impossible to find my keys without a metal detector, at the same time wondering how we could ever get any help being in such a remote location. I checked to see if our car had been stolen, but it was still where I parked it. Ingrid couldn't believe it, but it was true. They were lost.



As I sat there running my hands and feet through the sand, somebody came up to us and asked us if we lost our keys because someone had found a set. Yes... the Spanish people are wonderful. I love them all. All except that lady who refused to direct me to the restroom. Narrowly escaping utter disaster, we took a sigh of relief and wandered the town looking for a place to grab a bite to eat. We stopped at a little bar for a drink and an internet break, where Ingrid and I answered to the call of the firm.



The entire town was simply breathtaking. Its serene beauty could be admired for hours, and admire it we did.



At the recommendation of one of the locals, we ended up at this place for a snack only to learn that the place the local actually recommended was downstairs. Nevertheless, we enjoyed some delicious tapas at this place along with some tasty beverages.



After snacking on the tapas, we secured accommodations for the evening and then headed to the restaurant located below the place we ate earlier. It turned out to be one of the best meals of the vacation. We ordered a paella-like seafood dish, which had a cornucopia of seafood, together with the most delicious rice prepared with squid-ink. Simply put, a delightlful culinary experience.



A romantic dinner in a romantic town, and a fine wine with a fine woman. What could be better...

Spain - Day 5 - Cadaques, Ingrid Says

Well what can I say... I'm now over seven months behind in posting, and catching up at this point seems almost impossible, but I'll keep truckin' along. After the recent developments in the lives of Kevingrid, I'm very eager to catch up and share our stories, but sacrificing quality for quantity is something I'm just not prepared to do. In any event, back to Spain... day 5. That morning, we woke up to enjoy the complimentary breakfast, which to my pleasant surprise included wine. The best part about the breakfast was that there was the most tragic opera music playing in the background, which at the time seemed so apropos, since the night before Ingrid and I had a little tiff.



After joking about the tragic opera music and quickly making up, we headed for the beach with our bellies full.



The walk to the beach was beautiful. Particulary because there wasn't a tourist in sight, except for Ingrid... blah. Here's the view from right outside our hotel.



Here's the place we ate the night before. Definitely a thumbs-up for this restaurant. But a huge thumbs-down on those dorky white socks I'm wearing. If I wasn't seven months behind in posting, I'd Photoshop this picture to hide them.



There's really nothing to say about this picture other than that I like it.



Ahhh, yes. The wonderful beach at Palafrugell. This all looks so relaxingly familiar.



Here's a better panoramic video of the beach. I'm sure most of those doors are shops of some sort during peak season, but we were there just before the huge crowds. Perfect.



We claimed our stake on the beach and Ingrid immediately applied her sunblock to protect her beautiful face.



E-mailing friends from the shores of the Mediterranean Sea is the best "in-your-face" move ever, and such moves are clearly not beneath me. And neither is gaining 10-15 pounds since our trip to Brazil last year. Life of the beach was great, but we were faced with a decision as to whether we would lounge on the beach all day long, or take a trip up to Cadaques.



We opted for the latter, since Ingrid was convinced that there were beaches everywhere like the one at Palafrugell. Of course, although our guidebook said Cadaques was a must-see, it also said that there we no sand beaches there. But Ingrid disagreed with the guidebook (as she does on occassion) and we hit the road.



At one point we stopped to use the restroom and grab a beer at this hostel. Imagine entering a grungy bar filled with men all staring at Ingrid. It certainly didn't seem like the safest place in the world, but thankfully, we escaped unharmed after I quickly downed my beer.



As the navigator, Ingrid studied the map on the way to Cadaques and noticed that the town looks relatively close to the Pyrenees mountain range (on the map, I might add...). She was convinced this tiny mountain range was the beginning of the Pyrenees and repeatedly stated that she had seen the Pyrenees mountains. Ummm, I don't think so Ingrid. Those are more like hills and we're nowhere near the Pyrenees, babe.



In order to get to Cadaques, you have to take a winding road over the "Pyrenees." And looking back, we could see the beautiful coast of Spain.



We stopped on the roadside to take a few pictures. Not only do I need to get rid of those white socks, but I need to shave. I look like a dirty bastard.



As we descended the "Pyrenees," we could see our destination in the distance. It only took about 30 minutes to traverse the entire "Pyrenees" mountain range. I guess it's not as big as they say it is.



The water in Cadaques was crystal clear and the town was beautiful.



The shores are lined with uniform white architecture, which makes for a breathtaking view.



Understandably, Ingrid didn't particularly care for the beach here in Cadaques, as it consists primarily of rocks. As I mentioned above, having read this in the guidebook beforehand, I had informed her that there weren't going to be nice beaches there, but she didn't believe me (or the guidebook).



We decided to turn our trip to Cadaques into a day trip and return to Palafrugell by late afternoon. Since we would ultimately have to make our way back to Barcelona to catch a train, this made perfect sense. But before leaving the beautiful town of Cadaques, we enjoyed a fantastic lunch along the coast, consisting of fresh fish and soup (and wine, of course). It was excellent!



On the way back to Palafrugell, Ingrid suggested we stop at this tourist info bureau and get some ideas about where we should visit. It turned out that the lady at this tourist bureau was the same lady as the one we spoke to back at Palafrugell. She recognized us and suggested we head to Llafranc.



So after a two hour drive back through the "Pyrenees" and down the coast, we finally arrived at Llafranc, which turned out to be only a ten minute walk from the beach at Palafrugell. Ingrid fell in love with this place at first sight.



Especially this lovely little hotel where we stayed -- Hotel Llfranch. She loved the place so much, she even bought a bath robe from there and added it to the litany of things we were lugging around Europe. Great.



Pizza!? Someone feed me pizza!



Since the pizza place wasn't open, we gathered at the hotel restaurant and sat down for a pitcher of sangria. It turned out to be the gathering spot for some of the locals to watch the big Barcelona championship soccer game.



The place got pretty packed as we all sat back, enjoyed dinner and drinks, and cheered for Barcelona to win.



When I said before that the Spanish people love soccer, I meant all of the Spanish people, including the little kids, who gathered on streets and sang us what I assume to be a patriotic song.



As the Spanish people got excited over soccer, Ingrid got excited over dessert.



In the end, after some great competition, Barcelona emerged victorious, and we all cheered and had fun.



After calling it a night, we realized that we weren't the only ones cheering over the win. The streets of Barcelona were filled with soccer fans celebrating the victory. We would be heading there tomorrow, so hopefully it wouldn't get crazy.

Spain - Day 6 - Llafranc at Large

The next morning, we embarked on what would be one of the most relaxing days of the trip. After taking all two of my major vacations, what I've come to realize is that there are generally two types of vacations (or at least two types of things you can do on a vacation)... You can either sit on an exotic beach somewhere, soaking up the sun and relaxing, or you can be very active, go sightseeing and explore. On this day, we decided to do the former...



But not until after we enjoyed yet another complimentary breakfast (with wine). Earlier in the trip, we enjoyed toast prepared with a tasty tomato spread, and Ingrid tried her best to replicate the dish by cutting open a tomato and smearing the contents on a piece of toast. The result wasn't too far off, but I decided to stick with the jamon and eggs.



Our hotel room balcony overlooked the beach and Ingrid enjoyed the views of the coastline.



Although Ingrid was a huge fan of the hotel and vibe of Llfranc, she loved the beach at Palafrugell, which is much more private. We were told it was just a 10 minute hike around the bay to the wonderful beach we enjoyed the day before.



Okay, maybe more like 15 minutes. As you can see, it was quite a climb. Our hotel way down there on the beach, just off to the left of this picture.



When we passed this alcove, standing in it for a picture seemed like the appropriate thing to do, and more importantly, gave me time to catch my breath. And yes, I have yet to shave at this point in the trip, but at least I got rid of those terrible white socks.



The pathway was long and winding, but gave us great views along the way. Ingrid was as happy as could be.



Did I say 15 minutes?... maybe more like 20 minutes. But the beach is just around the corner, Ingrid. I swear.



Ahhh yes... It was just as we had remembered it -- pristine, clear, secluded and beautiful.



It was good to be back. And this time there would be no mishaps, as my car keys were safe in the hotel room.



The two of us sat in the sand with the waves crashing at our feet and couldn't have been happier. Whenever we look back on our trip, we always remember this as one of our favorite moments. Just laying on the beach, chatting, napping, sunning and relaxing. Man, I love that woman...



To my good fortune, one of the bars right on the beach was open, so I grabbed a couple of San Miguels to enjoy in the sand. And enjoy them I did...



... and after I enjoyed them, I went back to the bar to enjoy a couple more drinks. Ingrid and I spent the entire morning and early afternoon out on the beach, and stayed for as long as we possibly could. We had a wedding to attend in Pamplona and train to catch from Barcelona to Pamplona that we couldn't afford to miss, so late in the afternoon, we headed back to our hotel, checked out and said goodbye to Palafrugell and Llafranch, promising we would return some day.



Before we leave this place, I should mention that as in Brazil, people here in Spain sunbathe topless. Ahem! And before Ingrid neckchops me, let's move on.



We hit the road in our trusty rental car, but not before gas-ing up. The goal was to get back to Barcelona with enough time to return the car and catch an overnight train to Pamplona.



So we sped back on the highway just barely keeping up with the flow of traffic at 165 km/h, which at the time, not knowing the conversion factor, I didn't realize was in excess of 100 mph. Suffice it to say that people in Spain drive fast. But that all came to a grinding halt when we reached Barcelona, where we were greeted with traffic that rivaled Los Angeles traffic. See for yourself.



The bumper-to-bumper traffic was due, in part, to Barcelona soccer fans hitting the streets once again to celebrate their hometown team's victory and to greet them as they returned home.



We finally got through traffic and managed to return the car with just enought time to make it to the train station. Thank goodness Ingrid speaks Spanish, because our destination wasn't even listed on the board in the picture above and we were never told which train to catch at the time we bought the tickets. Good job, Ingrid.



It was going to take us about 6 hours to get to Pamplona, so we decided to opt for a slightly more expensive sleeping compartment so that we could get some rest (as if we didn't get enough rest on the beach). The compartment was cozy and we slept well in our bunk beds as if we were at camp.



After dozing off, we were awakened by a knock on our compartment letting us know we were approaching our stop. We arrived in Pamplona close to 5:00 in the morning, but got some great rest on the train. It was solid planning by us and maximized our awake time. What wasn't solid planning by us, however, was the amount of stuff we packed for the trip. Please note how many bags we have and keep in mind that each one weighs a ton. Especially Ingrid's huge green one there in the front. It's like a huge sack of potatoes on wheels.



A short cab ride brought us to Hotel Europa, where we would be staying for the next couple of nights. Wait a minute. Where's the elevator? All I see here are stairs and very, very big bags. I also see Ingrid is wheeling around my bag because hers is so ridiculously heavy. Thank goodness it was so early in the morning, because after lugging all those bags up the stairs, I needed a rest. Pheeewww!

Spain - Day 7 - Partying in Pamplona

After a few additional hours of sleep after our restful train ride, we were ready to hit the streets of Pamplona. This is the main plaza of Pamplona. It's beautiful, and the first floors of the surrounding buildings are almost all restaurants with outdoor patio seating.



At that point in the trip, the wedding which brought us to Spain was just a day away. Ingrid had been complaining about getting her nails done for the previous two days, and that morning she left me and wandered the corridors of Pamplona in search of a nail salon.



Left alone, there was only one thing to do. Grab a table at one of the numerous restaurants surrounding the plaza and use my elementary understanding of Spanish to order some food and a bottle of wine. I kindly asked the waiter for, "Una botella de vino tinto, por favor (A bottle of red wine, please)." The waiter looked at me surprised and responded, "Una copa de vino tinto (A cup of red wine)?" Negative, buddy... I said "una botella" as I used my hands to show him that I wanted a tall bottle and not a short cup. He then uttered something about ordering food from the menu and I happily obliged by ordering a ham and egg sandwich, which was scrumptious, and complete with a circular hole cut in the top piece of bread exposing the over-easy yolk of the egg below, with the circular piece of cut-out bread off to the side... very clever. People watching is fun. Especially con una botella de vino tinto.



Hours later, Ingrid returned with her nails done and a raging appetite. Our guidebook suggested Otano Bar, which is where we headed for more food (the sign is up there on the left, behind the flag).



There, we enjoyed one of the best meals of our trip. It was simply devine, and I recommend all of you to eat there if you're ever in the neighborhood.



As I mentioned, we were in town for a wedding. Remember Ingrid's friend Manuel (who has made an appearance on this blog a couple times before)? Well he was getting married to his love, Racquel. And many of their friends and family from all parts of the world were there to witness and celebrate the union.



Ingrid got the chance to catch up with Manuel's sister, Ana, who she's known for some time.



As if we hadn't eaten enough at that point, there was an endless supply of tapas for the taking, together with drinks galore. I ate as much as I could, and drank more than I could, as I got acquainted with the other guests in attendance, many of which, thankfully, spoke English.



After some drinks and tasty snacks we did what the locals do, and headed out for more drinks and tasty snacks. It's amazing that I didn't gain ten pounds that day alone. Across the plaza and down the street was one of Manuel and Racquel's favorite bars.



On the way there, Manuel gave everyone a brief history lesson and tour of the streets of Pamplona. Just look how cool the place looks. Ingrid and I were having a great time.



We stormed Bar Burgales in full force and basically took over the bar.



This place was great. It had several types of tapas behind glass and people could just point and pay.



As you can see by Ingrid's face, the tapas were delicious. Already stuffed before we even stepped in the bar, we ate the American way and tossed back several more tapas and drinks as we made new friends.



It seemed everyone had the same agenda.



A few hours later, it came time for Manuel and Racquel to reluctantly leave the group to get some rest before their big day.



But that didn't stop the true soldiers from shuffling along to the next bar to continue the fun and festivities.



We made our way to this local bar and got to know one another even better over drinks. People had come from all over the world to attend the wedding, including Ingrid and me.



Of course, there's nothing like some tequila shots to bring people together. Even Ingrid was game. The guy on the right there is Manuel's good friend, Fabio, who I later learned is a very successful entrepreneur. He was a hilarious guy and a drinker like me, so needless to say, we got along swimmingly.



Manuel and Racquel's friends were so friendly and great to party with.



... And Ingrid and I were clearly having a great time.



As I mentioned, Fabio's a drinker and was insistent upon the ordering more shots... which was fine with me. Bring 'em on!!



Cheers! To Manuel y Racquel!!!!



Cheers! To Fabio y Kevin!!!!



Ah yes... we were all having a wonderful time.



That night was filled with drinking, drinking and more drinking, which was probably not the smartest thing to do, given that we had a wedding to attend first thing in the morning.



But we all lived in the moment and continued the celebration.



... and Fabio continued to encourage everyone to drink.



... and then encouraged some to dance.



By this time, I was thoroughly inebriated, to say the least. And with only a few hours to rest until the wedding, we decided to call it a night. And it's a good thing we did, because the next day would be another big day for us. For those with attention to detail, please forgive my slight underarm perspiration, as it was extremely hot in that place.