Rome – Barcelona: Farewell Rome; Hello Barcelona

10:20 AM  Breakfast of croissants and pound cake.

Before 11:00 AM, we checked out; leaving our baggage in the hotel’s storage closet.

Marie and I walked around the area searching for more souvenirs.  I bought a tee shirt for Michelle.  I tried to use my coins, but €0.40 was rejected because she “couldn’t use it, but go to the coffee shop. They will take it.”

Lunch at McDonald’s, who accepted our small change.

2:00 PM  Spanish Steps.  Somehow, I had a penny, so I threw it, right hand over left shoulder, into the boat fountain with a wish.

Fifteen minutes later, we were back at the King Hotel to wait in the lobby for our driver.

Another 15 minutes, we brought out our luggage from the closet just as our driver arrived.   We drove in near silence across town to Ciampino Aeroport.

In line for Ryan Air, per signs and written guidelines for “strict one bag” rule, I stuffed my purse into my backpack after taking out my wallet and camera.  I checked in my backpack and duffle bag.  Marie kept her luggage, as it was small and could be broken apart as two.  As I observed while waiting at Gate A01, I was quite annoyed that so many women had a piece of luggage and big purse.  One couple had full backpacking gear and were let on without problem.

About 4:30 PM I noticed the sign at our gate no longer showed our flight.  I checked the main schedule board to find that our gate had changed to A04.  Marie and I moved to the other gate, which had no seating and a very long line.  Having paid extra for priority boarding, we stood in the priority line with 15-17 people in line ahead of us.  Our line boarded a bus, which took us to our plane to board from the tarmac.

6:25 PM  Take off – slightly late.  The seats didn’t recline and there were no pockets.  We soon found out why:  About every 10 minutes, the crew came by, selling something (magazines, newspapers, drinks, snacks, duty free items, lottery tickets, scratch cards for Ryan Air promotions, phone cards, etc.).  About a half hour before landing, they sold, or tried to sell, priority disembarking!  We landed with a hard bump.  The plane shook, people started clapping while we were speeding on the runway.  Our steward played the horn signal of the beginning of horse races, which added more clapping and laughter over the loud speaker blaring, “Welcome to Barcelona!  Another on-time landing!”

We followed the crowd to baggage claim.  Marie spotted my two bags by the time I joined her at the carousel.  After digging out my phone and turning it on (no signal).  We stepped out, without a Spain stamp in my passport, to look for Jordi.  I was just about to call him when I spotted him with Nils in his arms.

Jordi?

Judy?

Introductions of Nils and Jordi to Marie ensued.  Nils was very shy and clung to Jordi.  Once we were in the parking lot, the heat of Barcelona sunk in.  The Ryan Air pilot announced it was 86F. It was more like 90F.  After Nils was in his car seat, he began to whine, “Papa,” which escalated to yelling and crying during our 15-20 minute drive to the apartment.  Grit called to check our progress/ETA.

Grit and Jordi’s apartment was much larger than the one I visited in 2006.  Very modern and practical furnishing with clean lines.  Once home, Nils calmed down.  Three month old Pau was wide-eyed and calm.

We dined on tuna in green salad, bread and meat and cheese platter with non-alcoholic lemon beer and tomato cocktail juice.  Conversation was mainly getting to know Marie and Jordi and the well beings of Grit and my family.

As the closing ceremonies for the Olympics unfolded, conversation ceased and the TV was the focus until 12:30 –ish, when it looked like the remainder of the program would consist of speeches.

1:00 AM  Retired to Jordi’s office – turned visitors’ bedroom.

1:02 AM Marie was out.