We arrived in Barcelona on Wednesday afternoon, and finding our Air BnB apartment was simple, just 100 metres from the Aerobus stop. Carmen, the owner met us, gave us some info and answered our questions and then we were off, three old crones let loose in the city. We had been up since 5am and only had a small bowl of porridge at Bristol airport at 9.30 so as it was now 4pm our tummies were howling! We found café to sit outside, where I had Greek salad and we shared a big jug of Sangria in the sunshine. Now we had arrived. Sated, we headed in the direction that I knew would take us to the Ramblas, criss-crossing through the Raval,
an area full of old high-walled buildings, strange cooking smells and a million mobile phone accessory shops, piled high with cheap imports from China. The girls were a bit uneasy, not only do they lack my sense of direction, but some of the characters were a bit suspect and it seemed the Ladies of the Night were starting early. They breathed a sigh of relief when we walked into the light.
The Rambla was bustling with preparations for Sant Jordi, the next day, and flower stalls were everywhere.
and then unexpectedly we stumbled on a place I’d hoped to visit but didn’t realise was so close. I’m a real market fan, I must have been a trader in another life, so St Josep, Mercat de La Boqueria was paradise.
Delicious fruit, fresh and dried was piled high, with each stall holder trying to out do the next.
Seafood in abundance,
I really don’t know how I managed it, but convinced that we would return, I didn’t spend a penny. I regretted that when I went home empty handed!
Then it was time to enjoy some of the wonderful old buildings in the Rambla.
Often very elegant and ornate.
The next building has a little extra elegance, try clicking to get a bigger view.
Yes, it’s Marilyn Monroe, complete with wind- blown, white frock up on the balcony. ‘She’ was attempting to entice you into what I can only guess is entertaining, the museum of erotica.
We strolled on, eyes open for just the right place for dinner, but our energy had abandoned us totally. Being too excited to sleep the night before and the early start made the tiredness set in. We were five minutes from home and there was a local supermarket on the corner. Crisps and croissants called, as far as real food was concerned, we’d gone beyond hunger. Even the litre bottle of vodka and cola to mix remained unopened and we went to our rooms. My first impressions of Barcelona were great, it was an exciting city and despite being shattered I didn’t sleep for a couple of hours. Instead, I made plans for the next day.
These rows where Dido and Daisy are paddling remind me of 
As does this crisscrossing in the rock. 
and the view at Hartland is rather like 
Craggy rocks with winkles. 
Crops of determined little flowers 
Even surfers, but I expect they are colder than any near Meg. Pay a visit to Meg and see if you don’t agree with me, Hartland in North Devon has a lot in common with these beaches in New South Wales. To find Hartland on a map of the UK, first find South Wales, then go due south.
Before striding on eastwards towards the golf course and a view across the estuary to Exmouth.
So, I’m on the crest of the dunes surrounded by beauty
Maybe this will help explain where I was
and my path back to the car park
Lucid Gypsy 
