April 22, 2011

Barcelona. March, 1995

On the Sunday morning that Jay and I arrived in Barcelona via the overnight train from Sevilla, we took the metro to Las Ramblas and emerged in the middle of a parade. Literally. We climbed the stairs and found ourselves surrounded by huge papier maché heads carried on poles all along the street. Bienvenidos. But only a few short blocks from this crowded madness is the blessedly peaceful Plaça del Pi, home to our lodgings at the Hotel El Jardí. Look at this lovely square in the Barri Gòtic, the view from our hotel window. (Is it any wonder that as we planned our next trip to Barcelona, we opted to return to the same hotel, if not the same room?) I snapped this photo on the last afternoon of our two-week Spanish vacation as I was waiting for Jay to return from a late-day run. Soon afterwards, he appeared through the passageway, flushed but victorious, back from his trip down Las Ramblas to the port and all along the beach in Barceloneta. I was not a runner back then, but I am now and I’ve since happily enjoyed early-morning jogs through these very same neighborhoods.

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