Barcelona

So that was Ibiz, now onto Barca…The city I’ve been supporting in football this year. What a wicked city, it puts most other cities I’ve seen to shame, especially the antipodean one’s that should have planed a bit better… I’m looking at you Auckland.

We were going to do a pub crawl the first night but after several plates of tapas & a couple of jugs of sangria we decided to settle in for some good old fashioned people watching on La Rambla. Now I’ve got a question, when there is an obvious third wheel sitting with a couple, why do those night time rose flogging monkeys think I want a rose?…Do they think I’m suddenly going to become scum and cut my mate’s grass or do single guys in Spain go out with a rose in their belt ready for  the first guapa senorita they meet? (I’ve asked my Spanish mates…They do not)… And don’t even get me started on the dude trying to sell sunglasses that have flashing  LEDs stuck all over them.

The next day we hit the tour bus, checking out Plaça  de Catalunya & Gaudí’s Casa Batlló before getting to the mac daddy that is his Sagrada Família. Darn that place is cool & I’m happy that I’ve seen it under construction so I can check it out again when it’s completed but come on lads you’ve been building it for nearly 100 years hire some Polish labour already and get it finished!

From there we moved onto the Park Güell which has to be the coolest park I’ve ever been to, with Gaudi’s work blending into the landscape perfectly, amazing views over the city and the random musicians scattered about helping out as well, then onto the Placa d’Espanya, the Olympic village, the Cable car & back to the harbour. Trust me I’m missing out heaps!

After a FULL day sightseeing we stopped for a drink, cleaned up... & went back out for a drink or 4 waiting to meet up with David & Matha who had just got back to Barcelona after an epic road trip around  Europe. David was bought up in central Barca so was able to show us the REAL town, not the overpriced tourist traps we had been frequenting. To give you an idea our ‘Favorite’  bar on La Rambla was selling a bowl of olives for around €4.50 with a beer costing around €6-7, at 1 of the bars Dave & Matha took us to we had 4 bottles of wine & about 7 plates o f tapas for €22. Plus the tapas was something else…you may have been  able to get a bowl of olives but that was not what we were going for, rather whole little fish flashed fried, Pig snout (Like Pork Crackling…Come to think about it exactly the same but moister) but my personal favourite ‘Pulpo a Feira’ (Octopus Galican style or octopus slices with paprika). By this point we were so full I couldn’t even think about more food (notice my belly in the photo of David & I)so we moved off to David’s uncles bar where X and I proceeded to teach the Spaniards pool - kiwi style (Played the same as normal pool but you are allowed to put the opposition off in any way you want just no physical contact) I’m not sure if it’s going to catch on in Catalonia, but I love it.

The next day we were not quite as fresh & bubbly, in fact for the first time X&H were up and had had breakfast before me. We sauntered in the general direction of Bogatell beach stopping off at several Sunday morning markets. I wasn’t up for chilling on the beach for too long so jumped back on the tourist bus to check out the rest of Barcelona leaving the couple soaking up UV. Not much to say about the rest of the tour apart from Barcelona is beautiful. Near the end of the tour I decided to have a look through ‘Cementiri del Poblenou’ Barcelona’s old cemetery – morbid I know but I’ve always had a soft spot for cemeteries. The funky thing about this one was instead of popping the removed in the ground they were slid head first into a wall like in a morgue…up to 7 high so the top potential  zombie was over 5m off the ground, not quite sure how you pay your respects in that situation.

Then I meet up with the crew for a last meal (How crap was that!) & off to the airport & home to wet Ireland.

Side note: This trip marked 10 years since Xavier & I met. Neither of us remember exactly when it was just that it was after my 20^th (He didn’t come to my party) and before my 21^st (He bought one of the best presents I got). Here’s to heaps more trips bro in the same messy vain!

VIA ESPAÑA

WOW!!Ok Where to start? I guess first off back in London, man what a difference 6 months makes. I had forgotten how the tube works & was unable to get from Victoria to Soho without looking at a tube map in the station & looking like a complete Muppet. Then there was the culture shock/reminder that I wasn’t in a little country village (ie. Cork) so the wallet went back in the front pocket & I had to remind myself constantly, not to acknowledge every person I made eye contact with as I walked down Oxford St (Just stare through them as if they don’t exist & keep walking…unless they are 10 years old in which case move away from them before they shoot/stab you). Before the flight to Spain I had enough time to catch up with Sally & compare how her new flatmate is going compared to me, she says he’s great but I could  read between the lines that she was really saying he’s a langer! 

The flight to Ibiza was uneventful apart for the gezza in Gatwick who when I asked where the smoking area is processed to tell me to quit like he did 18 months ago blah blah blah…I asked for directions monkey boy not your self inflated & pointless rant.

Passport processing in Ibiza was quite cool with 2 plane loads of hedonists eyeing each other like it was the first day of camp or the first meal in the canteen of your university halls of residence. (She’s fit, he’s massive and they’re already monkeyed!)

Ibiza is awesome…for antipodean's it’s what the Mt, Whangamata, Foster or Byron bay  are all trying to be like…but it pulls it off, plus it has hot euro girls!

The superclubs are OK but they reinforced what I already suspected…I’m over clubs. Far too many people try too hard, you can’t talk to therefore pick up anybody, its way too hot & everything costs too much (€7 for 150ml of water…€13 for some people)….Am I getting old?

Now Bora Bora is completely different and waaaay more my cuppa tea. A club/bar ON THE BEACH! Being on the  beach also means that instead of paying up to €13 for a small bottle of water you can go to the Spar (Dairy or convenience store), buy a 1.5l bottle of San Miguel and drink it on the beach…Happy days! Also big ups to X for bringing a chili bag so we could buy more than 1 each at a time. Also this means if the music is too loud for you & you want to chat…you just move down the beach a little.

But it wasn’t all dumf dumf, alcohol & girls there’s food as well. Whoever invented paella should get a medal, but whoever invented shelled paella should be made a saint! Then there’s the perfect hangover meal.  Roll over a dodgy Aussie ‘meat pie’, 2 litres of strawberry milk, a litre of tomato juice & a tub of telly’s mussels (Note of caution; in a half awake state I had the above once in Sydney…Bart can vow to the fact that the results were not pretty) Melon & cured ham!…now that’s my kind of fruit salad!! It may sound wrong but it works. I could rant on about the seafood for as long as I could eat it, ie forever but I’ll leave it alone otherwise I’ll end up crying.

Plus for two days we hired a car to drive around the island. HELL YEAH I’ve now driven on the wrong side of the road. You first day we went to Cala Gracio, one wicked little beach with the clearest turquoise water you have ever seen. Unfortunately a group of naturists thought it was a great beach as well. “Unfortunately?” I hear you ask, well yes the girls were VERY European & there bodies had never seen a razor and one of the lads (& thankfully his clothed friend) decided to play palas deporte in front of us for 3 hours. Even Holly wasn’t impressed but Xavier was over the moon. Then we headed but to San Antonio for the sunset.  One of the best Majito’s I’ve ever had…but for €15 they should have been.

The next day we went to Cova de Can Marçá to look at the ‘World famous caves’ I started having doubts when I noticed the stalagmites & stalactites had been broken & glued back  together but the cream de la resistance was when the tour guide turned the waterfall on for us. Then onto Cala Pada to check out the Hippie fair (The Gypsy fair that tours the Coromandel in summer is better) & the best paella ever.

Sorry part 2 will be coming soon