Barcelona and Beyond

9/23 2:35PM
We arrived about 10AM local time yesterday morning. Jane slept pretty well on the passage. I didn't. We stowed our luggage and went strolling in La Rambla. The city is in the midst of a festival. Big bandstands and makeshift theaters full all the squares around La Rambla and the Gothic quarter. We spent the day strolling, stopping at outdoor restaurants and watching people, and checking hotels for our cruise end stay. We selected a 51 room boutique hotel on La Rambla, the Monte Carlo. Between 7:30 and 8PM we went to bed. Now we are both awake. We leave at 4:30AM for the airport and our hop to Venice. By noon or so we will be aboard ship. Startling news on the telly: first ever case of blue toungue disease found in a cow in Ipswich. What the blue fuck is bloue tongue disease? We thought of you, TIsh, the first time we set out for a drink in La Rambla, about your birthday and how melancholy you became spending it so far from your sister. A young Spaniard strode past us, a lad of nineteen or so, striding up the boulevard singing a Beatles song - in English.
Late in the afternoon we were sipping some wine and gin and tonic, identifying the Americans in the crowd as they walked by.
"There's one". she said, nodding at a middle aged black fellow headed our way. As he got to us, we recognized him. It was O.J.!! He sat next to us, glanced at us and smiled amiably. Jane stood, grabbed her drink, walked to him and hurled the drink in his face. He ran, startled, afraid. Her fury was breathtaking. I was damned upset with her though, with the exchange rate what it is, a good gin and tonic is damned expensive!

9/23 6:10AM Barcelona airport

We are waiting to board our flight. At security Jane's carry on was pulled. Inside, in a ;plastic bag were two questionable things, my cetaphil lotion and Jane's perfume, both restricted materials in containers well above acceptable size. The cetaphil is the only thing between me and 95 year old skin. As we all know, I am loathe to use sunscreen. The Cetaphil helps retard damage and restore health to me ravaged and rapidly aging arms, legs, neck, and face. As soon as the case was opened, Jane realized her mistake. She immediately began to wail like a grieving Bedouin woman - some high pitched sound puctuated by a staccato sound. She offered life giving and life sustaining lotion in an instant while, in rapid Spanish, she contrived to both smile widely and continue to wail as she shamnelessly begged to keep her perfume.
The perfume is with us. My Cetaphil is history. When you next see me my epidemis will look and feel like papyrus rescued from an archeological dig in the Dead Sea. But Jane will smell fine.

And I haven't ever talked aobut the favor she did for me on the tranatlantic flight. Think Jabba the Hut and I will tell you about it later