Barcelona to Santa Barbara...

Up and off with the larks. DAA had to come to our apartment to collect his bike and drop off his bag as his family went home and we lost John as his mini FDOB adventure had come to an end. Ary got up to wave us off before he made his way to his new digs for the next couple of days before he flies home on Friday.

As expected, getting out of Barcelona was entertaining to say the least and we ended up on a completely different road than we’d planned. A couple of wrong turns saw us heading in the wrong direction but we managed to drop off a few slip roads. Settling into a new routine with Dad, showing him what Ary and I had been doing along the way was strange. Ary and I had fallen into a very typical man/woman routine, with him driving and me doing the lunch/washing stuff. Still, we worked well together and contemplated how we could make a living doing this sort of thing. Hair brained scheme number 879.

We stopped in Tarragona for lunch by the beach. Nice little spot but again it seemed like we were destined to go the wrong way from the off. Clouded by PMT and running out of smokes, I’m pretty sure that my Dad’s first day was not what he had imagined.

We made it to Santa Barbara with the assistance of the map and the rich bitch satnav although it did land us pretty much in a field. I flagged down a couple of young lads on bikes and made an attempt to ask for directions. He gave up trying to understand what I was talking about and opted to show us so I returned his kindness with a can of Irn Bru from the cold bag.

The hotel looked very nice from the outside, as we checked in and unpacked the trailer. It was a little like being in a wild west film though… the locals at the bar had a good old look when I pitched up. The man on reception asked me if my Dad and I were married! I said he’s married to my Mum!!

I lugged all the bags upstairs and discovered the rooms were less than fresh. Whilst I smoke, I don’t like staying in smoking rooms in hotels and the first two rooms utterly stank. I decided that I’d be clever and spray some perfume, promptly dropping my perfume on the marble floor and smashing it all over the place. On the plus side, the room now smelled like a tart’s boudoir but no perfume left!

Dinner was pleasant, again the chips arrived about twenty minutes after the steak so I had meat by itself. The olive oil that they produce was amazing though so we bought some to bring home with us and one for the picnic box. They insist on serving some sort of alcoholic drink after dinner though. Tonight’s version came in very pretty little frozen glasses which were different colours. I made Douglas Senior drink mine. I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not. He keeps getting into trouble for his booze consumption from DAA who has been nicknamed ‘the navigator’ by the other two boys.