The arrival in Barcelona at El Prat Airport is tarnished somewhat by the fact that our baggage does not arrive with us. After standing at the carousel watching other passengers, one by one, depart with their bags, it becomes clear that ours are not among them. We shuffle ourselves to the Swiss Customer Service Desk and wait in line (again) to learn that our suitcases are not in Barcelona but still in Zurich on that later five o'clock flight. They will be delivered at our hotel when the next flight arrives in the morning.
Of course our telephones do not work. By now the transfer service, already paid for, has given up on us, so we crawl into a taxi for the ride to our hotel. We tell the manager at the Hotel Ingleterra our story and he gives us toothbrushes, toothpaste and the keys to our room. The space is small but comfortable with air conditioning that works reasonably well and windows permanently closed. It takes a bit of doing but we realize the electricity in Spain is controlled by hoteliers with room keys. Plug it in--the lights come on!
We take a brief rest and then stroll down the Ramblas to check out the Barcelonian paseo.
We scope out a restaurant for dinner called Teresa Carles and plan to return there later on. But first we join the people strolling on the Ramblas enjoying a lovely Spring evening. This lively tree-lined boulevard linking the waterfront with the city center has many shops, cafes and street performers selling their wares and skills to the visitors. Being outdoors after the New England Winter we just endured is deliciously divine.
We get turned around in the area which creates a certain stressor but Dan successfully navigates our way back to the restaurant spot. There we discover a waiting-list. An hour earlier the place was empty. It is not long, however, before we are seated enjoying a mezze platter, aubergine cake and coulant for dessert. We return to our room and fall into a dead sleep.
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