We’re back in North Carolina, but my body clock is still on European time. That means I’m struggling to stay awake past 8 p.m. and usually up by 4 a.m. John doesn’t have the same problem. He’s back to his night owl habits.
Speaking of John, the last week in Europe was not so good for him. He came down with a nasty bout of food poisoning just before we left Narbonne, and it wiped him out through Barcelona and the long journey back to the States.
So we didn’t see as much of Barcelona as planned. About the only thing John felt like eating was soup, so we had more pho and ramen in Barcelona than tapas. Maybe next time.
We mostly explored Barcelona on foot. Not far from our hotel was a park with a Miro sculpture and a large community of noisy parakeets.
Out of habit, I kept trying to speak French in Barcelona. That thing where you know you have to communicate in a language not your own, so you default to your second-best. Eventually, I remembered I needed “por favor” instead of “s’il vous plaît.”
After nearly six weeks of espresso every morning in France, Barcelona’s coffee of choice — the café con leche – was a welcome change. Many counter-service shops in the city offered a combo of café with pastry for 2 euros. What a deal!
Now I’m back in the U.S., where a single croissant starts at $4. I had a craving for something French yesterday, so I drove 2.5 miles to La Farm Bakery for a loaf of bread and a pain au chocolat, grand total $14. I miss France!
Happy Thanksgiving!
