We’re back home now, after a long day of travel followed by a day of unpacking and feeling out of sorts and off schedule. That’s my excuse for the delay in posting about our Saturday trip to Tarragona.
Anyway, we spent the day with Jordi, a fellow language learner. We met on italki and talk on skype, practicing English and Spanish. Jordi met us at the Camp Tarragona train station and showed us around the city. As you can see, the weather was iffy, alternating between pleasant and ugly.
We went to the Collblanc market for the last time this morning, not so much to shop as to say goodbye to friends we’ve made there. Sylvia, the talkative clothes vendor, the olive ladies, one with a daughter who’s going to university in San Francisco soon, the butcher ladies, who taught us the word “filete” as they sliced chicken, the Barca futbol fans from Argentina who supplied our fruits and vegetables.
Two months. I haven’t lived away from “home” this long since I first went to college in the 70’s. It’s been less like a vacation and more like moving. I miss some things back home, especially my sobrinita, but I’m sad to be leaving. Mary is ready for home, though. It’s been hard for her having no one to talk to but me. Imagine that!
We’ve spent the last couple of days wandering around parts of Barcelona we love, and some we have neglected to visit until now. We’re still discovering new things and having new experiences. For example, we wandered into a somewhat sketchy neighborhood, and I finally encountered my first (to my knowledge) Barcelona pickpocket. I should have taken a picture, but I’m afraid he would have absconded with my camera. He was a gregarious sort, and at the same moment he was saying, “Welcome to Barcelona!” I felt his hand at the top of my pocket, just in time. I was able to turn away, secure both pockets, and walk away with wallet intact. He was working solo, or I’m sure he would have succeeded.
After our Montserrat visit, our tour included a dinner and wine tasting. It was held at a castle surrounded by a resort, including a golf course, restaurant, and winery. The food was amazing.
Mary’s main course was lamb with a pear sauce.
I had duck with berry sauce.
Seems there was some interest in my beachfront fixer-upper, and I suspect there are others in the states that might like to find a place for themselves. (I’m looking at you, Martha.) So, I’ve been on the lookout for other bargain places here.
I found this diamond in the rough here in Hospitalet.
Remember La Pedrera? The Gaudi building at the top of this blog?
After visiting Gerona, we continued on to Pals. Pals depends very much on tourism, and during off-season, it’s more or less a very beautiful ghost town.