On our third day in Barcelona, we started the morning with breakfast at another food-tour-company-recommended spot called Cosmo. We went in, sat down at a table, looked up, and were instantly transported back to Baltimore.
At the beginning of the summer, my parents were visiting and once again graciously stayed with our girls here in London so M and I could have a little getaway. We spent four nights in Barcelona, were we appreciated the sights, the weather, the artistic genius of Pablo Picasso and Antoni Gaudí, and of course the food and drink.
We flew out of London on Thursday night, on a very rowdy budget airline flight with a stag (bachelor) party and a boys’ football club (probably ages 8-10?) whose parents let them run wild.
Fortunately, the man next to us on the plane was a nice Barcelona local and helpfully gave us a bunch of restaurant recommendations. (And as always happens with us on international trips, we ran into him again later that weekend, on a random street. Does this happen to anyone else? Is there a term for this phenomenon?) Continue reading →