Wednesday, 7 October 2009

Reminiscing: Barcelona 2008

Wednesday, 7 October 2009
One of my favourite days EVER was when Jase and I went to Barcelona last year.  We never get to go anywhere without our kids (date night!) and this was one of those rare occasions; my parents looked after Ben back at our hotel.  After a really long day exploring the city, we got on the wrong train to go back to the coastal town where we were staying.  I was just looking at some pictures of our trip on Facebook (you can see the full album here and here) and laughing at what I wrote beneath them; I thought I would share here.  Ole! 

The face you make when you're on the wrong train.  In Spain.

Me: Do you think we're on the wrong train?

Himself: I dunno. Wasn't the sea on one side of the train the whole way here?

Me: Yes... is that the sea out there?

Himself: I dunno. Black dark, can't tell.

Me: Why don't you go ask someone?

Himself: Why don't YOU go ask someone?

Me: Because I ALWAYS am the one who goes and asks someone; it's your turn to look like a tit.

Himself: But you're better at Spanish than me.

Me: Bollocks. I only know 'si', 'gracias', 'sangria', and 'vino tinto por favor'. None of those words are going to help us now.

Himself: That's 6 more words than I know...

Me: Si.

Himself: Well, why don't we stay on a few more stops to see if we can see the sea out of the window?

Me: Si.

(a few minutes passes)

Himself: There's definitely no sea out any of these windows.

Me: So it would seem. What shall we do?

Himself: I will go and try to read that sign over there.

(nonchalant getting-out-of-seat manouevre under the guise of stretching legs commences, Himself goes to check out sign on wall of train. Completely in Spanish, by the way. After a moment, he comes back.

Himself: That sign is completely in Spanish, by the way. I couldn't make head nor tail of it.
(scratches beard in 'pondering' (aka panic stricken) way.)

Me: Ooh! Another sign, lets read that.

(both lean obnoxiously over man who sits beneath sign, pointing, ummmm-ing and errrr-ing, apologising for leaning over man)

Me  and Himself, unison: We're definitely not on the right train.

Man Beneath Sign, irritated: You need help?

Us, together: Yes. Please.

Man Beneath Sign: Where you want go?

Us, together, pointing to station on sign: There. Please.

Man Beneath Sign, laughing: You want by the sea. No, no, no. You up in mountains. Get off train, next stop. Si.

Us, together: Bollocks.

Long story longer -- cut to us getting off train in middle of Spanish mountains in the dark, in the middle of nowhere. Cut to us trying to figure out whether there was another train back to Barcelona, what time it was, and whether it would be cheaper just to get a taxi... complete with trying to mime to Spanish bartender select phrases e.g. 'How many Euros for taxi?' and 'Why doesn't this pay phone take my money?'

Morals of story:
1. Don't just jump on random trains in Spanish city centres. Good idea to always check destination first.
2. Buy a Spanish phrase book for next visit.

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