Barcelona - 18 September 2011 (2)

It didn’t take long before we could see our hotel – the Hotel Medium Monegal – in front of us as we walked across the square.  The hotel reception was very small and the counter was cut away to allow access to the lift.  I was much relieved to find that they had a copy of our booking.  Unfortunately, despite already being expensive, there was an extra charge for the room safe.  So I paid the bill in advance, which severely depleted my stock of euros, and we decided to use our money belts throughout the trip.

Placa de Catalunya from Hotel

Our room was a decent size and the bathroom was clean.  We had a small balcony which looked out onto the square, so we took a photo.  At first the traffic ran freely, but soon afterwards, the police closed the road to allow a demonstration.  The airport bus had to turn around, so we were pleased that we had timed our arrival well.

Once we had finished unpacking, we set off to explore.  The hotel could not have been in a better position as it was right at the top of Las Ramblas, the main tourist street.  Our aim was to find somewhere to buy some bottled water, somewhere to have a drink and then a decent restaurant for dinner.  We wandered quite a way, both along Las Ramblas and in side streets, before we found anywhere.  It did not help that it was Sunday evening and many places were shut.  Eventually we found a delicatessen selling bottled water.  We bought two bottles, but soon regretted it when we saw a mini-supermarket just a few doors down which would have been much cheaper.

We found ourselves in the rather splendid Plaça Reial before we found a bar where we could just sit outside and have a drink.  There were long queues outside two of the bars in the square, but we chose one with lots of spare seats, but prompt, efficient service.  My mum had a beer and I had a peach juice.  In the corner of my eye, I kept seeing a mauve light flickering high up against a building.  We later realised that some people were selling these illuminated spiral devices, which you catapult into the air and try to catch when they finally come down.  The light was a salesman demonstrating his wares.

After a leisurely drink, we continued our search for food.  There were lots of tapas bars, but they had few vegetarian options and you had to sit at the bar to get the tapas as the advertised prices.  We left the Plaça Reial by a small north-eastern exit and walked along a road towards the old town.  We were accosted by Evor, a young man who spoke excellent English having lived in Devon.  Despite that, his accent was more American than West Country.  He talked us into going into Sinatras, which was down a side road.

At the door, the girl said that there would be a five minute wait and told us to sit at the bar.  The barman poured us each a complimentary glass of cava while we waited and we both got bar stools to scramble up on when a nice guy moved for me.  Forty-five minutes later, when we had finished the cava, the girl came back and said that in five more minutes, she would have a table for us downstairs where we were sitting.  My mum was pleased as she didn’t have to climb the stairs.  Fifteen minutes later, we finally got our table.

Luckily, it didn’t take nearly so long for us to order our tapas or for them to arrive.  My mum had hoisin duck, which she said was very nice, and we also had patatas bravas, caprese, aubergine parmigiana and fried artichoke hearts.  The artichokes were very disappointing as they mostly tasted of fat which was well past its use-by date.  One had some choke left on it, so I had to dash into the loo to spit it out.  (The loo was very nice and clean, but there was only the one and it was unisex – there were probably more upstairs.)  All the rest of the food was very nice.  We also had a jug of sangria, so my mum was feeling decidedly squidgy by the time we finished it.  With one of their special coffees to finish, the meal came to just under €44, which was not cheap, but we had been warned that Barcelona prices were on a par with those in the UK.  The atmosphere had been good though.  They were showing Guys and Dolls with English subtitles on a large screen.  Luckily we did not have to hear Marlon Brando singing.  We said goodbye to the waitress and to Evor and headed back to our hotel.

The air-conditioning in our room made me feel quite cold and we couldn’t work out how to turn it off.  The downside of the central location and great view of the Plaça was the noise.  At one point someone started shouting very loudly and my mum got out of bed to have a look.  She said that an English guy was accusing a local guy of killing his friend and that more locals were gathering round in a menacing way.  I missed almost all that as I can sleep though nearly anything.  My mum said that the traffic went on all night, but I slept through until 0700.