On this, our last night in Catalan central, I thought rather than provide too much verbage about who did what to whom etc, a stream of consciousness would suffice.
I have a new favourite subject for hagiography - St Antonin Maria Claret - now there's a saint I could get devoted to.
It is remarkable what an effect Gaudi's has had on Barcelona, not just churches, houses, and municipal fittings, but the most unlikely objects - how about a Vespa!.
We observed two young Cataluns on pushbikes unsuccessfully drag-racing a black and yellow taxi down Las Ramblas - despite their countrymen's apparent melancholy these two were ever hopeful.
Our tapas being served by a waiter who was a dead ringer for Yves Montands in some SBS 50's movie I saw late one night.
Hawkers attempting to sell the most useless gee-gaws and nick-nacks at every tourist hotspot accompanied by gypsies with both hands out.
A metro system that works so well you feel ripped off if you have to wait more than two minutes.
Our tour guide to Montserrat sporting an umbrella identical to Hagrid's wand in Harry Potter.
The only factory wall not graffitied being one owned by Struth S.A.
Spanish Rockabillies
Kim's first utterance after retrieving her errant baggage from Heathrow's lost luggage office: "Thank God, now I can change my earrings".
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Haha, of course Mum would be glad to get out of her stinky earrings and into a clean pair.
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