I wake to the sound of Erica, Pablo and Chica purring at the foot of our bed, the smell of bread baking in the kitchen. A warm breeze floats in from the balcony and I rise to prepare a cafetiere of coffee and bash some eggs around in a pan. Rosana checks on our limonero (lemon tree) and yelps with joy as she discovers the beginnings of our first lemons. “It’s like a miracle!”
Ben preparing to cruise the boardwalk
The “Let’s go to the beach!” moment
Once the caffeine has revived us, we kiss our cats goodbye for the day, smear on a layer of suncream that smells like coconut and childhood memories and head out into the street. Rosana’s on her bike, I’m on my longboard.
We roll past the bakery and the Ethiopian restaurant next door, past the bodega where we only go to drink but not to eat because the camerero has the hands of a coal miner. Read the rest of this article…
My name is Mat, I’m 39yrs old and I live in Southampton. (I moved down here from South of London 20yrs ago and have stayed ever since).
My first trip to Barcelona was for La Noche Vieja (New Year’s Eve) in 2004. It was around this time that the “no frills” airline boom really started to take off (no pun intended), and quite a number of my then work colleagues booked short breaks to Barcelona via Ryanair’s Bournemouth to Girona service.
Tying in with this my family normally had a couple of nights somewhere in the UK or France for NYE, so given the great things my work colleagues said about Barcelona I suggested to the family we went to Barcelona… and that’s where my 10yr (ok, its 11yrs and counting) obsession with Barcelona started.
View from the Museu d’Història de Catalunya
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