Barcelona

Back on Spanish soil & VIVA España! Everything become cheaper and in a language I could impress Tula with. In France we were trying to throw a few french words around, Tula becoming amazingly good at saying Merci in a perfect french accent and everything. I was quite jealous. Italy was totally impossible cause we hardly came across anyone that spoke Italian anyway. In Barcelona the catalans were tre impressed with my spanish, especially the fact that I spoke with an andalucian (southern) accent! I have an accent!

First night out and we had a lovely dinner, all that I had been telling Tula about how Spain is Oh so much cheaper came true when when we order a set menu for 18 euros that included a jug of wine, then we spot champagne on the menu for a mere 6.50! Viva España! Of course we decided to celebrate this and order a bottle to have with our entrees! Viva Hangover! Here is the Tula with said champagne.

Next day out and the champagne continues to flow during our day doing all the Antonio Gaudi sites. We stopped for a picnic in Park Güell with cute little mini bottles of champers to keep us suitably tired (good idea at the time) whilst seeing La Sagrada Familia afterwards.

After a champagne induced siesta we were ready for a big night on the town, dinner, red wine, more red wine in a local bar whilst waiting for the absinthe bar to open, (the spanish start late). The absinthe bar is quite cool except for the people who run it. Nasty bunch, I am sure Picasso would have bitch slapped those a-holes. It is supposedly kept in its original state from the days that Picassso and the cool art crowd used to get loopy on absinthe there. "original state" here means really bloody dirty - cobwebs and all. You get a big glass of absinthe, a spoon, sugar cube and a bottle of water and you gotta pour the water over the sugar cube placed on the spoon.

Here is Tula before she realised SHE WAS VERY VERY DRUNK, still happy, smiling and able to remember what she was doing.

We moved on from there pretty quickly, to another bar that is decorated inside to look like you are in a forest - here we realised Tula was VERY DRUNK from the absinthe. Tula doesn´t not remember even being here, (and the vodka wasn´t helping this) nor does she remember the impromtu photoshoot in the bathroom of the bar. Drunky Drunky!

The next day she suffered from a nasty absinthe hangover, and had to ask for a bag to vomit in while we were in topshop. I was buying a a really cool belt so left her outside to suffer the shame of dry retching on a spanish street on a weekday. Poor Love. Cool belt.