In the middle of orchestrating a move around the world (after being given the tools to do so 12 days before Hubs had to leave), my lovable (but aggravating) husband decided we needed to go to Barcelona for 4 days. I was irritated, to be honest. I stress about things; he believes that everything will always work out. He's of the "if you wait until the last minute to do things, they only take a minute" ilk.
Turns out, in this case, he was right.
I went to Barcelona when my (very trusting) parents let me backpack around Europe the summer before my senior year in high school. With a boy. The only things I recall about Barcelona from that trip were 1) the heat; 2) how hard it was to find a place to stay; 3) the nude beach; 4) the market; and 5) feeling like a baby.
This time?
The breathtaking reflection of the stained glass on the inside of the Sagrada Familia, Guadi's phenomenal but unfinished cathedral.
Exploring the town after tapas and red wine.
Coming across Catalan dancing, called Sardana, in front of the La Seu Cathedral. It was stoic and slow and mesmerizing.
Coffee in La Boqueria market at La Pinotxo cafe, with this guy, whom I love.
Rambling Las Ramblas with the love of my life, who makes me feel safe and adventurous and as though things will always work out as they should.
2 comments:
I think we should all adopt N's approach to life. Beats ulcers!
Alex has the same "last minute, no-plan game plan" approach and it used to drive me nuts... I'm slowly getting used to it and most of the time it's alright! Glad you were able to squeeze in that last trip, and that I've had this extra week here with you at my place : )
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