Run to Me (Barcelona - Sitges)

Welcome to our last full day in Barcelona, dear reader. Unusually, the day dawned with cloud and the prospect of the rain. As it was our last day, we decided to take a more relaxed approach to the tourist life. Not just because of the weather, but also due to Jayne's blistered left heel. A Google search of chemists that are open on Sunday - it's a Catholic country, not a lot happens on Sunday, aside from church, allegedly - located one across the Plaça de Catalunya. Off we went.

We had remarked on the structure being erected in Plaça de Catalunya on several occasions throughout the week, expecting a concert or the like. No, dear reader, no. Once again we happened upon a footrace. Hence today's title, Run to Me by the Bee Gees. Come on sing it with me.

In Berlin last year, it was the half marathon. This year it was some 10km race. We turned the corner towards the Plaça and were confronted with thousands of people in running gear, some red faced, many sweating, medals in hand or dangling from their neck. Had Danté known of this phenomenon, there would have been a tenth circle of hell.

Safely negotiating the sweating, banana eating crowd, we found the chemist and commenced discussions with the brand new junior to purchase some strapping tape. There followed a linguistic dance that resulted in us purchasing something I wasn't sure was going to meet our needs.

The three dragons castle.

Back in the hotel, we examined the "extreme" padded plasters and knew they weren't going to measure up. An improvised pad was placed underneath the plaster and a series of bandaids over the top to keep it in place. Shoes on we walked down towards the Arc to where we had seen a potential breakfast location. The potential was realised in the sense that we did eat breakfast there, but not in that it wasn't great. The coffee was good, again, the pastries, not so much.

The park entrance.

One of the greenhouses.

The clouds had threatened to rain on our parade all the way down to the Arc but held off. We made the Parc de la Ciutadella and headed straight for the greenhouses that had been spruiked about on the Hop on-Hop off bus. There was no doubting the spectacular nature of the buildings themselves. As for the plants inside. Meh. A lot of banana trees and monsterios and a few bromeliads. Nothing special.

No idea, but pretty.

A bromeliad.

We continued our ramble and discovered a memorial to LGBTQI+ people with a bed of the largest begonias I've ever seen. 

Giant begonias.

The Catalan memorial.

There were a lot of people in the park, many trying to make money by attracting the Monk Parrots and providing tourists with a photo opportunity. 

Monk Parrots.

The Barcelona zoo was at one end of the park. It also contained a children's playground, a lake with row boats, a rotunda (where dance classes were happening) and a ginormous fountain. In terms of plants it was not so interesting.

The clouds were building up so we thought it best to turn for home. The rain commenced before we had reached the exit gates. Thankfully the rain was patchy and light and had stopped before we returned to the hotel. We arranged for a slightly later checkout to work in with our bus departure time and returned to our room.

Artwork in the park.

I ventured out between rain showers to withdraw some cash. Much like Croatia, the bank charges are extortionate. The first bank I went to charged €7 to withdraw money. Back home I Googled the cheapest option and set out again. It was dark now and the outside ATM had a man begging in front of it. There was an ATM inside the foyer and next to it was someone sleeping on the floor. Given all the stories I'd heard about Barcelona, I wasn't willing to risk it and returned home cashless.

We returned to Ciutat Comtal for our last meal because we knew it would be good. We weren't disappointed. Before dinner, I gave another bank a try. To withdraw €200 they were going to charge $412AUD. According to my bank the exchange rate had €200 equalling $358. No deal.

We almost made the hotel before the rain started again. A glass of red at the bar was going to be our nightcap. The bar, however, was closed for a private function. The thunderstorm had obviously driven the rooftop bar function inside.

Undeterred, I grabbed my umbrella and went in search of a Super Mercat. There was one at the end of the street. I selected a bottle of red with a bit age on it for €10,95. At the checkout the guy keyed in €16,95. I pointed to the price tag. He said, "reserva". I pointed to the price tag again. He repeated the price. I said "no" and he said "put back". I'm pretty certain he understood my next two words in English as I walked out the door followed by a string of Spanish I did not understand.

Around the corner I went to another supermarket and sourced a bottle of Nero D'avola for less than €9. Unfortunately the clouds opened and the thunderstorm arrived. My jeans were soaked from the knees down by the time I had walked the half block home.

We finished the night with the red but without the regular gelato.

Until tomorrow.

Beware, it is a transit day.