Today’s destination is the mighty Barcelona where we will stay for a couple of days. Good to give the cars a rest…oh and us of course!
On the way out of Andorra we relish the prospect of more glorious roads. Without a doubt, the roads in and now out of Andorra are amongst the best I’ve ever driven. Relentless twists and turns, ascending and then descending the mountains with the occasional hairpin thrown in for good measure. As you’d imagine, plenty of opportunity for our creative minds to find inspiration for a photograph.
Yes, that is Dan at the top of that cliff! The crazy bugger climbed it thinking he was staring in a new Rocky movie! Great pic though of man and machine…oh and a large lump of nature in between them!
Less than three hours later and after a couple of suspect border stops, we’ve made into the Catalunya commune and find our hotel with relative ease. As I turn 30 whilst in Barcelona (tomorrow,) I did wanna make this hotel pretty nice but still within budget of around £50 per person, per night. It soon become apparent that this was not going to disappoint. Shop windows such as this give an affluent impression of the area.
This is a quick greeting from outside the hotel
and here is one from the 17th floor…
Sorry, had to use hotel image as unsurprisingly there were always people occupying the pool area.
Needless to say we stay here and bathed for the remainder of the day before it was time for the proverbial sh*t, shower and shave – if you’ll excuse the expression.
A late afternoon/early evening beverage
I can tell you that sadly we’re not here for long – the prices here are ridiculous. No seriously. Not me being, well ‘conscious’ which no doubt a number of you will initially think – they are stupid ridiculous and enough to have almost given Alex a heart attack. Ok and myself who am I trying to kid.
£10 for a standard measure Mojitio – y’know, that minty drink that
Kennedy girls like.
If that ain’t bad enough, try this: In 2009 along the South of France, we paid 24 euros for four beers. Basically £6 a pint! Tonight we genuinely paid not £7, not £8 but nearly £9 for a pint. I hope my Mother and Father are sat down having read that. Don’t be flippant, actually process that!!! £9 a pint. All records beaten. Sick! Sick!
Anyway, gripe over…for now. You know you’re gonna hear about this when I’m home!
We reach the Marina by metro and sadly miss out on the cable carts by a half of an hour. Oh well, more eat and drink time. And let me tell you we did it well.
So tomorrow I turn 30…bong, bong, bong. As long as I don’t see the slightly dodgy image below staring back at me when I reach the new decade, I’ll survive.
Ciao 4 now. Goodnight.
PS – Wait till you hear what I did with my phone. What a plonker.