About this time two years ago, Rebecca and I were finishing up planning our honeymoon, set to take place right after our late May wedding. But as any of my regular readers know, those plans were cut short when I was in a pretty bad motorcycle accident exactly four weeks before the wedding. Besides many changes that have followed that accident, we also had to cancel our honeymoon. It was to be two weeks spent in the Northern half of Spain. I couldn't fly. Neither my tending physician nor my overall comfort would allow the 8+ hour flight. Plus driving, walking and general mobility were an issue, since I was on crutches. Did I mention heavy drugs and a major loss of appetite yet? Well, anyway, almost 2 years later, most of those problems have been remedied.
We flew into Barcelona on a Saturday morning. I hadn't slept a wink, and Rebecca got some shut-eye, but I don't think it could be called good sleep. We gathered our baggage and took a bus into town and found the apartment we rented. We spent the next 48 hours there eating tapas, drinking large cups of
cafe con leche and small glasses of
cerveza, touring the
mercados and trying to communicate as well as we could since neither of us speak
español.
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| One of many walls of ham in a Barcelona ham shop |
