We stayed in a small (very small – Jamie had to duck on the loft level, I could stroll under the beams in heels. Bonus) loft apartment in El Born, the old quarter of central Barcelona. Our apartment was right next to the Picasso Museum. Which we never quite made it to. El Born is a maze of tiny streets, alleys, boutiques, cafes, restaurants and architectural marvels – including Roman ruins. We were a bit exhausted and tourist-ed out after NY, and spend an inordinate amount of time sleeping in, sleeping during the day, lost and found and lost again, and just not doing very much. We sort of skipped most of the touristy things and instead concentrated on getting ready for the cycling ahead. We were both very nervous, probably for different reasons.
We had to eat a lot so we’d have energy for the trip ahead. Of course cheeses provide a very good source of cycling fuel, as does chocolate and various decadent dessert concoctions. We fuelled up extensively. I cleverly created stores of fuel on my body, in case there were lean times ahead. My pants got tight – but I knew it was for a good cause. We both developed the habit of waking up at 3-4 am and not being able to sleep again for hours, or at all. We were able to eat when we couldn’t sleep however, and so fuelled up on pasta and cheeses overnight. My pants got tighter. I hoped this would help the cycling.
We discovered our steeds (the bikes) in Bikeland SL, right near the Sagrada Famila (which we admired from the outside, after deciding not to face the throngs of queuing tourists). The proprietor, Lluis, was lovely and extremely helpful and we bought the first bikes he showed us. German made ‘Whistler Focus’ mountain bikes with hydraulic brakes. Stupid name, good bikes. Lluis was even more helpful when we sheepishly brought back the bikes 3 days after we bought them as our bike trailers didn’t fit on. This had provoked a minor (massive) meltdown in the El Born bunker, as JB had already built up and modified the bikes by the time we realised the bike frames could not accommodate the trailer hitch at an angle that could take the trailers. Lluis looked at the hitch and knew instantly it had to be machined back so it could maneuver to the correct angle. He gave the pieces to his nerdy assistant who fixed them in minutes. Problem solved, crisis averted. We really need to send that man a bottle of wine…
Barcelona is a lot more beautiful and exciting and fantastic and amazing than I’ve managed to describe– it’s just we were too focussed and tired to properly explore it in all its glory. Next time.
We had to eat a lot so we’d have energy for the trip ahead. Of course cheeses provide a very good source of cycling fuel, as does chocolate and various decadent dessert concoctions. We fuelled up extensively. I cleverly created stores of fuel on my body, in case there were lean times ahead. My pants got tight – but I knew it was for a good cause. We both developed the habit of waking up at 3-4 am and not being able to sleep again for hours, or at all. We were able to eat when we couldn’t sleep however, and so fuelled up on pasta and cheeses overnight. My pants got tighter. I hoped this would help the cycling.
We discovered our steeds (the bikes) in Bikeland SL, right near the Sagrada Famila (which we admired from the outside, after deciding not to face the throngs of queuing tourists). The proprietor, Lluis, was lovely and extremely helpful and we bought the first bikes he showed us. German made ‘Whistler Focus’ mountain bikes with hydraulic brakes. Stupid name, good bikes. Lluis was even more helpful when we sheepishly brought back the bikes 3 days after we bought them as our bike trailers didn’t fit on. This had provoked a minor (massive) meltdown in the El Born bunker, as JB had already built up and modified the bikes by the time we realised the bike frames could not accommodate the trailer hitch at an angle that could take the trailers. Lluis looked at the hitch and knew instantly it had to be machined back so it could maneuver to the correct angle. He gave the pieces to his nerdy assistant who fixed them in minutes. Problem solved, crisis averted. We really need to send that man a bottle of wine…
Barcelona is a lot more beautiful and exciting and fantastic and amazing than I’ve managed to describe– it’s just we were too focussed and tired to properly explore it in all its glory. Next time.
