We stopped for lunch at El 4 Gats, Picasso's favourite local hangout. You know the menu he drew for them, his first commissioned artwork:
The service here was pretty terrible. But I suppose if you are drunk out of your mind on absinthe, it doesn't matter so much. We were sober, but tired, so after lunch we opted for the touristy cop-out of a couple hours on the hop-on, hop-off bus that runs in a giant loop around the city, linking both major and minor points of interest. Declan appreciated that the bus was not only double decker, but also convertible.
|The Columbus monument, marking the spot at the end of Las Ramblas, where Columbus reported to Ferdinand and Isabella tales of his explorations of the New World.|
|Captivated. We were all pretty worn down by this point, all three of us longing for a pop-up Kids' club.|
|A Gaudi apartment building.|
We decided to end our trip where we began, with a walk along the Barcelona beach, and dinner at an ocean side restaurant, Agua.
|Pre-dinner dunk in the Mediterranean|
This dinner was a perfect farewell to Barcelona, and we enjoyed watching the sun go down and the nightlife fire up along the boardwalk as we leisurely tapas-ed it up. Our trip home the next day was uneventful. I really can't remember it at all, so I might have been in a fugue state after the previous week and a half of adventure. If you have made it this far in reading of our travels, I feel like you should win some sort of prize. I could give you a Disney cruiseline keychain, but you deserve a medal. My hope is that recounting all this will help keep the memories for Declan, who I wish were a little bit older for his first trip to Europe so it would make an impression on him. I still remember my first trip to Europe in great detail still, but I was 16. Oh well, with any luck, at least Declan will remember those foot-pedal sinks. That's just a great idea, I don't care where you are.