Last day

Today was the last day of the Johnson plus Hart vacation.

In keeping with the spirit of our vacation, we started off the day separately (actually, we're all getting along well despite the horribly hot weather). Carl, Brendan, and Joan left for the Picasso museum while Steve, Cate, and I took the metro to the Catalyan art museum in Montjuic. We saw an exhibition of war photographer Robert Caro's work. His coverage of the Spanish Civil War in the late 1930s and D-Day is remarkable.

We met up at la Boqueria, which may or may not be the largest open-air market in Europe, for lunch. Brendan's excellent Spanish got us fresh baguettes, apples, nuts, and, our favorite, Manchengo cheese. We wandered around the grounds of the University of Barcelona and then took the Metro to Segrada Familia, Gaudi's Catholic creation. We like the back, with its bunches of fruit and unfinished left side, better than the front, which has an unappealing 1960s feel.

Then it was back to the Hostal Goya to pack. We left the Hostal and ambled down to the Barri Gothic for delicious tapas and ice cream. Good food and great conversation made for a lovely last night!

Montserrat

Some writer or philosopher at some point said something emblematic of Montserrat that I cannot remember nor find on Google Portugal, but it is amazing.

We left Hostal Goya early this morning to get the best/most sugary breakfast ever near Espanya station: churros and chocolate. Nursing sugar headaches, we took the one hour train to Montserrat. It was perhaps the most beautiful train ride I've ever taken, Carl, passing warehouses, shanty houses, and muddy rivers.

Once we got to Montserrat, we took big yellow gondolas up to the monastery. The view of Catalonia is, excuse the cliche, breathtaking. The monastery is nestled in between monstrous mountains whose shape changes constantly as weather erodes them. We took audio tours of Montserrat and saw the famed Black Virgin, the Basilica, the Boys' School, and, most importantly, the beer dispenser/cafeteria, where we got beer (and lunch.)

We split up after arriving back in Barca, with Steve, Carl, and Brendan shopping as Joan, Cate, and I went to the aquarium. The aquarium is no Academy of Science, but it does have an underwater tunnel that takes you through the shark tank. Cate and I just about died.

We stopped for delicious tapas of Bikini (melted ham and cheese) sandwhiches and hummus and pita and then meet up with the boyz for dinner. Brendan and I went out for drinks and desserts at 11, crazy partyers that we are. Mojitos and chocolate volcano cake do not mix.

Adios Costa del Sol!

Today we left our Finca Tranquila. Graced with the presence of the ever so chatty house manager Joe who took an hour to say goodbye and collect the trash, we packed and left for the airport. The Malaga airport, like Malaga itself, is packed with very red (real sun) or very orange (fake tan) British people.

Our Vueling (in Catalan: welling) flight got us to Barcelona in the late afternoon. The Hostal Goya is a fabulous place. The interior is Ikea inspired and very chic. An excellent place to stay especially because it's convienently located near all the major areas. After a bit of exploring, we grabbed dinner at a nearby tapas place. Lots of delicious food. I think our new favorite Spanish treat might be potates bravas.

A thoroughly Spanish day

Today, more than ever, I felt like a lobster red British ex-pat vacationing in the Costa del Sol.

We drove to the very chic Ronda this morning, starting off at a Moroccan Market. Cate and Joan found fabulous jewelry and I got a wicker grocery bag. Starving, we headed off for a late Spanish lunch. We seem to have gotten to the restaurant just in time as it soon filled up with loud Spaniards inhaling paella and wine (just like us!). After a delicious lunch (enjoyed especially by Carl, who ordered steak rather than fish and chips, per Steve's gentle coaxing), we had drinks and a tanning sesh on the beach. We stopped at the Mercadona for sangria supplies and a relaxing last night in the Costa del Sol.

Granada! Oh, and we hit a car.

Lured with warm chocolate croissants and the promise of coffee, we woke up to Joan's stirring at the ungodly hour of 6am. We were, however, on our way to a very celestial palace: the Alhambra.

The Alhambra is the most magnificent example of Islamic architecture. It's a Muslim fortress/castle that became a Christian palace, dilapidated over the years, housed Washington Irving (who, unfortunately, wrote a chronicle of his time there which, annoyingly, is the narration of the audio guide), became to captivate tourists and historians, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of Spain's top tourist destinations. This is evidenced in the fact that at 9am on a very hot Thursday in August, there was a line winding and winding and winding through the grounds, full of visitors who seemed to be more than willing to wait for hours to get into the palace.

But it's absolutely worth it. I think pictures will suffice...

Additionally, we hit a car today. Whilst looking in vain for street signs, searching for friendly pedestrians, attempting to locate ourselves on our awful maps, fighting, being confused, suffering from the lack of air conditioning in the back of the car (that was just Cate and me, everyone else seemed to get a nice breeze), and basically just being utterly LOST, we ran into a government car. There were no ramifications, literally or metaphorically.

Some of us go to Africa, some of us see Africa

Somewhere beteween teh Finca weehours of 5am and 7am, our most valued comparion, Carl, went to Africa. Seriously.

Off he drove in his "Po" (known to VW as the "Polo") to Algeciras, the Spanish port providing gerried to Morroco. He planned (even earlier this morning) to spend his day touring Tangier's many museums, historical sites, and other points of culutral interest (ahem, bars). We hope he comes back soon.

As for the Johnsons, today we remained on the Continent. After a lazy breakfast, we left the Finca at noon for a gold course and the beach. We drove to Fuengirola (Fu-en-gear-oh-la), past Marbella (Mar-bey-ay). It's somewhat surprising we aren't stayind in Marbella as it's the posh resort town for Britain's elite and select trashy Americans (Britney just left). Brendan and Joan went golfing. Steve, Cate, and I tanned, swam in the Med without fearing for sharks, and read Hello UK whilst sipping Coocacoola Li-eghts. It was an ideal afternoon.

After we met up, we went to Gibraltar in an effort to outdo Carl. We SAW Africa! Gibraltar is a massive rock, totally sheer. There's nothing in the town but we really did see Africa - huge mountains rising up through the steamy Mediterranean mists. Driving home with petrol station gas and snacks, we decided we can't wait for someone to ask us how many continents we've seen.

Coin

The Johnsons plus Chart have arrived at the lovely Finca Tranquila in Coin.

Driving along the very long highway from the coast inland to our casa, we mistakenly picked out many beautiful homes we thought might be our Finca. Our Finca, however, is impossible to spot from the road. Perhaps because it isn´t on a road. Rather, it is at the end of a one lane dirt path after a very steep hill (hell?) which we must walk up because our trusty little rental car can´t quite manage the climb. The Finca itself makes up for the trouble of getting to it...

More descriptions, backlogged blogs and pictures coming soon! Must be off to explore Coin.