Barcelona

Honestly, nothing we ate today is worth mentioning. So I won't. But I was thinking about food all day -- half the photos I took were of food. Mouth-watering displays of tapas, chocolates enough to kill, meringues piled high in cupcake papers. I did have a "Spanish cake" with my afternoon cappucchino. Also called a Magdalena, it was a muffin-sized madelaine. I wonder, can I bake these myself?

(One thing: coffee at Restaurante Hegar in the Plaza Mayor before leaving Madrid. Notable for the facts that we coffeed with several dozen Madrid police officers, and that the barman looked like a young Sylvester Stallone.)

We took the high-speed train to Barcelona, a 3-hour trip. Just like my first train experience in China, it put me sound asleep. Like a baby being rocked to dreamland. I missed most of the countryside.

Our Barcelona hotel is a more modern place and a tad more spacious than in Madrid, nearly as large as my closet at home. It's half-price now for the off-season, so I'm not griping. Food and lodging in Europe is now ghastly expensive.

We wandered around the old section of town, which is the most interesting. Narrow cobbled streets crammed after 5 with locals and tourists, noticeably way more tourists than in the old section of Madrid. The first highlight was the Barcelona Cathedral. It's a genuine gothic cathedral with more and more-ornate side chapels than I've seen anywhere. The second highlight was an evening concert of Spanish guitar music: Manuel Gonzalez in a chapel of the Basilica Santa Maria Del Pi. An early concert by Spanish standards, starting at 9:00 p.m.

Otherwise, Randy's knee (torn meniscus) is a mess. And the sale of our old house appears to have fallen apart. Our realtor has put it back on the market. From the beginning I imagined this would happen since buyer's father is running the show and he's a major PITA, seemingly more interested in playing games than in actually helping his adult son buy a house. Oh well.

Now for some much needed sleep....