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On the 9th floor of the El Court Inglase department store is a cafeteria overlooking the Plaça de Catalunya and has a spectacular view of Barcelona. Best of all it’s free.

We have been in the habbit this last four days of heading back to our hotel in the late afternoon to recuperate and rest up for our eveneing paseo and dinner, but our hotel here in Barcelona is a bit of a dump so we are finding other places to relax. The shocking thing us that it’s only 10€ less a night than our four star hotel in Valencia. We had no idea how good we had it.

Today was laundry day again, and although it wasn’t a drop off service, it was quite painless. There were a couple of attendants there to do most of the work for you. So about an hour later we were done and ready to hit the city.

We headed to the Plaça de Catalunya and set off on a walking tour of La Rambla. The book warns that this is prime territory for pickpockets and scam artists. Didn’t seem that bad to me.

We did however see some one performing the shell game scam. Are there still people who fall for this? How could there possibly be any one who would? We saw him standing around with his cronies then suddenly he puts down the board and his friends start acting like they were random passers-by lured into the game. And just like that a crowd had formed. I suppose they must find some suckers or they wouldn’t keep doing it.

Tomorrow we get up early to got to the Sagrada Familia. Got to get there when it opens otherwise we could be waiting in line for the elevator to the roof for two hours.

I’ve had that Vampire Weekend song going through my head ever since we got our first glass of horchata in Sevilla. In Mexico horchata is made with rice, here it’s made with something called a chuffanut. No, I don’t know what that is either. It’s quite tasty though. Especially with fartons, a speciality in Valencia.

What is a farton you ask? I would describe it as a cross between a croissant and a brioches but long like a breadstick. Very tasty.

Our second day in Valencia started at the Mercado Central, which, it says in the book, is the largest in Europe. I don’t know, the one in Budapest seemed comprable in size plus had three levels. It was fun to browse around though and we did procure breakfast.

Thus fortified we next tackled the cathedral and it’s bell tower. It was our first major climb of the trip (one is required to climb at least one tower on any trip to Europe). As always, the view from the top made it worthwhile.

I thought it would be hard to abide by Spain’s meal schedule, but really we’ve managed to slip into it without too much trouble. When it’s just starting to get dark at 10pm that starts to seem like an appropriate time to eat. And if you are keeping busy during the day (which we most assuredly are), then it’s easy to go until 2pm before having lunch.

And if not, you can always so what we did last night and belly up to the bar for tapas. We went to a place called Sagardi, a place we passed on the street between our hotel and the center of town. It was always hoping when we walked by so we were eager to check it out. It’s the kind of place that, unfortunately, if it were in the US would be shut down by the health department in a heartbeat. All the tapas are lined up on the bar. They give you a plate and you just grab whatever looks good. This can be difficult as theplace is very busy and people are sitting at the bar and you have to reach around them. Fortunately the servers will also bring plates around of whatever just came out of the kitchen. My favorite was the chorizo on bread, and the tortilla on bread, and the goat cheese on bread…

When you are done gorging yourself on tapas, you hand your plate to the person behind the bar and they count the toothpicks on your plate to charge you.

There is a big cider keg in the wall and when you order a cider they open up the tap and hold the glass about three feet away and the cider streams across the bar. We tried to get video of it but something went awry. There are Sagradis in Barcelona as well so maybe we will try again.

The one downside of this place is that it’s very expensive when all is said and done. I would recommend going there for a quick tapas or two, but don’t make a meal out of it or you might suffer from sticker shock.

It was particularly galling because earlier we’d had a very fine lunch for a fraction of the price.

In the afternoon we took the metro out to the beach and walked the boardwalk. It was something like 90 degrees out and people were out in force sunning themselves.

Now we are on the train to Barcelona. We have three full days there and two haf days. Then we fly to Bilbao.

We’ve only been in Valencia for a few hours and all ready I’m sorry we won’t be staying longer.

As we strolled through the plazas that surround the cathedral in the center of town we saw not one, not two, but eight pairs of brides and grooms with photographers (and sometimes whole wedding parties) in tow. We even saw one pair being photographed in front of a fountain featuring Bachus in the Plaza de la Virgen (insert your own joke here).

Something cool we haven’t seen before: in front of the cathedral is a small scale model with signs pointing out all the relevant bits in Braille. There was also one behind the cathedral for the L’Almoina, the roman ruins under the Plaza del Arzobispo.

We just had the beat meal of the trip so far at the Cafe Paris, which, despite it’s name, had nothing to do with French cooking. It was as Spanish a meal as we’ve had so far.

One last thing before I go to bed: Valencia has some great street art.

In the Prado de San Sebastian park surrounded by the blooming purple Jacaranda trees there is lovely little oasis where one can get a drink and recline on couches like a sultan in days gone by.

Today was our first day alone as my parents set out for Barcelona in the early hours of the morning. We slept in for the first time this trip and headed out late for another first: churros and chocolate. We will be having it again.

We strolled along both sides of the river venturing into the Triana district across the bridge.

Our main tourist activity was the Flamenco Museum. Very high tech but I’m still not sure what all of it means. The Flamenco show we attended last night was actually pretty good. Even if it was one of the seemingly hundreds put on around the city for the soul purpose of entertaining tourists. The performers were all very good and enthusiastic except for one portly bearded singer who seemed bored by the whole affair.

The only male dancer in the show was an extrememly tall, lanky fellow who seemed to take it all very seriously. Now having visited the museum I see that that is the point. Intensity and passion and a serious expression inclusive of an arched eyebrow.

In the evening we again met with Estefania, this time with her boyfriend Pedro. They took us over to the Triana for tapas. We stopped a couple of different places. The first was so popular we were lucky to grab a standing table out front. We had a Solomillo on toast. Very tasty.

At the next atop we had tortilla al whisky, solomillo al rocquefort, and huevos frittas with chrizo.

When we were in Italy I would do a daily Gelato flavor update. I feel like in Spain I shoul do a daily tapas update.

Sevilla is repleat with Seville orange trees, a bitter fruit not fit for consumption. They are instead harvested by the city and sold for the making of marmalade. Right now some of the trees are burdened with full ripe oranges and some just with little green pre-oranges that fall on you when the wind passes through.

These oranges can also be found in the local sangria we found out today at lunch.

So you know how in movies and tv shows when someone goes to a bar and orders a beer they never specify which beer they want, as if the bar only had one kind? Well in Spain it really seems to be like that in most places. You say “una cerveza” and you get whatever they serve. Usually you don’t have anyway of knowing. Fortunately none of it has been Bud or Coors so it’s been working out ok.

Last night we met with Estefania, a friend of a friend who had spent a year living and studying in Sevilla. She was kind enough to meet with us and show us around even though she hadn’t spoken to my friend in 16 years. He’d tracked her down when he heard we were coming through. She took us to a good bar for tapas and ordered us a wide variety of very tasty dishes. It was the kind of tapas experience you are supposed to have in Spain but can be surprisngly difficult to have if you don’t speak the language and don’t know where to look. After, we went to a place for dessert that had the most amazing looking (and tasting) concoctions. We ordered some to share and I ordered one made with the local oranges. It had a slight bitter edge off set by the sweet merangue and cake.

Today was laundry day and a bit of a revelation. The place that our hotel sent us to had a drop off and pick up service for the bargain price of 6€. Considering the time saved (and the fact that in Venice we spent more than that just trying to get our clothes dry) it was more than worth the price. I’m never going to do my own laundry in Europe again if I can help it.

In the afternoon we took a guided tour of the Alcazar with Concepción Delgado (suggested in Rick Steves). It was well worth it. Simmilar in styling to the Alhambra but not moorish. It was mujahideen. That is: remodeled and built atop a 10th century palace by arabic workers left behind after the reconquista at the behest of Christian king Pedro I.

The extensive gardens were quite lovely.

Tonight we are going to a flamenco show (because that it what one does when visiting Sevilla) and tomorrow my parents head off to Barcelona while we stay here for another day. Saturday we fly to Valencia.

We only had a few hours there before needing to move on so our first stop was the bullring. It dates back to the early 1700s and is the largest in the world (according to the audio guide), which is kind of surprising as it really not very big.

The arena serves as a museum of the history of bull fighting as well as being an active arena, as evidenced by the blood stains left on the sand. The experience was pretty good. It gave a peak into the history and pagentry without having to experience any of the brutality of actual bull fighting.

Adjacent to the museum is a park overlooking the valley and has a spectacular view that stretches for miles.

Around the corner from there is the Puente Nuevo (New Bridge) which spans a deep river gorge. It was completed in 1793 and replaced the old bridge which had been built in 1735 but collapsed six years later. Apparently they learned a lot about bridge building in the intervening years because the new bridge is still here.

After a quick lunch of pizza we headed off to Sevilla.

Oh yeah, we have been seeing a lot of this sign:

It makes me laugh.

We just happened to be perfectly positioned so that when the bus carrying the winning team rolled into the plaza, it stopped right in front of us. It was pretty exciting to be in the midst of that many jubilent people.

When the bus dropped us off near our hotel we could still here the crowd singing in the city below. And just now, fireworks.

We spent the morning in Cordoba at the Mezquita, a once Muslum mosque converted into a catholic church in the 16th century. It was interesting to see the ornate, over the top decoration of the church overlaid on the understated geometric simplicity of the mosque.

The drive from Cordoba to Granada went incredibly smoothly and made up for all the trouble we had yesterday. The Spanish countryside is mile after mile of neatly planted rows of olive trees. There is nary an inch of uncultivated land to be seen. As we approached Granada we could see the peaks of the Siera Nevada mountains looming over the valley.

Our car friendly hotel is right next to the Alhambra which is good because we have tickets for a 9 o’clock entry, for which it is recommended we show up an hour early. And so I must end here as it is all ready late.

Tomorrow I will tell of the fantastic dinner we had and the ridiculously friendly waiter.

Saturday in Madrid was the European football finals (or something of the sort) between Milan and Munich. Fans of both teams had flooded the city in wild, roaming packs that would break out into competitive (or cooperative) fight songsin full throated roars regardless of the hour or location. Including, Irene tells me, outside our window at two or three in the morning.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) we left the city in the morning before the expected craziness really got underway.

So far a lot of this trip has been a lot like an episode of Seinfeld. Lots of places know how to take a reservation, but not necessarily how to make good on one. At the rental car agency we were told that even though I checked the box saying I wanted a GPS that was only a mild expression of desire and not an actual reservation. Not sure what I would have needed to do to confirm that, yes, I really would like a gps please, but apparently just ticking the appropriate box isn’t enough. Good to know Avis, good to know.

We’ve been trying to make do with just the directions I printed out at home with less than stellar results. We made it to Toledo well enough, but our drive to Cordoba was a bit of a disaster at the beginning and the end. Mostly at the end.

Finding our way to our hotel proved to be way more difficult than it looked like it should have been. In our defence the signs pointing to the city center could have been clearer and sometimes we just didn’t believe they wanted us to turn down the “streets” they wanted us to turn down. We got there in the end.

This is going to come off very stupid American of me, but Cordoba reminds me a lot of Mexico. And no, not just because of all the Spanish. It reminds me of Merida, the capital of the Yucatan, with it low buildings and tiny streets.

We arrived too late to take in any of the attractions apart from wandering the narrow lanes and people watching. There is some sort of festival/carnival going on outside of town but the lovely ladies in there elaborate dresses can be seen all over.

Tomorrow we are setting out early for the mosque and then head for Granada. More to come.

At which point we asked that even though they didn’t have our reservation, did they possibly have a room for us anyway?

This caused a great kerfuffle while they spent the next 30 minutes calling god knows who on the phone still trying to track down the original reservation only to declare at the end that they did in fact have a room but we could only have it for one night. They were very insistant and apologetic about this point but as our original reservation had only been for one night we were happy.

My parents had been standing by while all this was going on because they got into our hotel before we did and they aren’t even staying there.

It’s really very warm here. Very warm. I’m glad we didn’t come in the heat of summer. And we’ve all ready walked a lot. From our hotel down to Plaza Mayor where we strolled through the fabulous Mercado de San Miguel. Then on to the Palacio Real ( Royal Palace).

Honestly, I think that’s about the last royal palace I need to see in this life time. We’ve seen palaces in Paris, Vienna, Munich, Prague and probably a few more that I’m leaving out and at this point they all start to blend together. Not that it wasn’t nice. It was. But it was another nice palace. Meh.

Now we are back at our hotel were Irene has insisted we have a short siesta before meeting my parents for dinner later.

Tomorrow morning we pick up our rental car and drive to Toledo. Irene and I will be back in Madrid at the end of our trip to spend a few more days.