Some of you may recall that I personally seem to have very bad plane karma. I’m always getting stuck next to the largest, smelliest, or loudest passengers on the plane. Not this time. For the first leg from San Diego, I was sitting next to a creepy-looking but otherwise unoffensive little man who didn’t say a word for the entire flight. The second leg, the one going overseas, I was in the middle seat between two largish men when I overheard the couple behind me asking the flight attendants for new seats. Theirs were in the last row on the plane, and they didn’t like it for some reason. After they left, I quickly excused myself to hork the aisle seat they left behind and sprawled out comfortably for the next nine hours.

Upon arriving, we were greeting by our Spanish coworker and checked into our downtown hotel, showered, obtained phone cards, and changed money, then headed out for tapas in the shadow of the Sagrada Familia. The tower going up in the cathedral itself was closed for the day, so I’ll have to return for another look. We walked through the Barri Gotic and stopped at the amazingly gothic Cathedral of Santa Eulalia, before having to stop at another streetside cafe, this time for sangria. Finally, we walked the rest of the way down La Rambla, past the monument to Christopher Columbus, and down to the marina, where we had some really good paella.

I’m finding this city to be a lot like San Diego: temperate, multicultural, busy, and you can generally tell which direction you’re facing because there is the sea to one side and the mountains to the other. Barcelona has an amazing history displayed in its architecture and I only wish I knew how to take better photos of it.