Weekend in Barcelona

Ta-da!! Look, a blog post! I am jumping back on the horse, so to speak, with an attempt to be writing regularly once again. 
It was Jacob's 25th birthday on March 11th. Jacob would say differently, but in my opinion, I have never done birthdays for him terribly well. Granted, I have tried to plan successful birthdays, but something out of my control always went off. 

21st Birthday: Coincided with a university rock climbing trip, so his birthday was spent stuffed in the back of a van with college students. 

22nd Birthday: On our honeymoon, a coconut smashed the windshield of our rental car while driving. 

23rd Birthday: Carefully planned a Geocaching scavenger hunt, Jacob's GPS broke and his team couldn't geocache. 

24th Birthday: Planned to surprise Jacob with hang gliding over the ocean. The day-of, there wasn't enough wind to fly. Neither was there enough wind on the three subsequent time we attempted. Jacob never got to go hang gliding. 

25th Birthday: This year, I figured that it was "go big or go home". After considering for all of 30 minutes, I sat down at the computer and bought two tickets to Barcelona, Spain. No way was this birthday going to fail like the previous four. 

And, to take you out of your suspense (because I know you are just waiting for the dramatic story of how it all got ruined), everything went perfectly. I surprised Jacob with plane tickets on his birthday, letting him know we would be leaving for a weekend in Barcelona in just two days. The flight went without a hitch, we arrived downtown without getting lost, and our first meal was utterly fantastic. Either we broke our curse of horrible bad luck while traveling, or God mercifully spared Jacob another "meh" birthday. I'll take both explanations. 

Beyond that, I am afraid I don't have anything exciting to report. Flawless weekend getaways don't make for gripping narratives. But for those of you who are interested, here are some pictures and run down of our weekend. 

Saturday: Arrive in the afternoon, locate hotel. Lunch: Tapas and glorious Spanish red wine (I really like countries where it is socially encouraged to drink wine at lunch). Walk around. Circle the Familia Sagrada church. Walk more. Head over to the beach. Walk along the Mediterranean, get caught in a rainstorm. Take refuge in an Iberian ham shop. Eat Iberian ham. Go home, dry off. Drink a cocktail at a local bar. Go home and sleep. 

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Sunday: Eat breakfast. Wander through the Gothic Quarter. Realize that it is the day of the Barcelona marathon, and clap for exhausted-looking runners as I ask myself why anyone would inflict that kind of misery on themselves. Walk up to the Alma Barcelona hotel where I had arranged for a restaurant review. Spend 3 hours eating and drinking like kings. (Truffle, brie and Iberian ham panini with Spanish champagne and raw oysters? I'll have another, thanks.) Roll out of the hotel and back down to the beach. More walking. Back to the hotel to nap, then out into the warm night air to track down a pre-dinner drink. Tapas for dinner, seated at 10:00 PM. Now we are really living the Spanish life!

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Monday: Visit an outdoor market. Walk. Go clothes shopping for Jacob. Estimate that we walked roughly 40 km over the weekend. Hop onto the train back to the airport, and go home, exhausted. 

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