Of Beds and Socks

Spanish beds, or at least those of my limited experience, seem to have been designed by the Grand Inquisitor. They are less instruments of rest and peace than of the battle against heretical sleepers. The mattress is pretty thin for someone whose weight is in three digits ( and not only when measured in pounds, thank you for the kind thought). The pancake slim mattress nests on a bed of slats. Those slats appear to be connected to the side runners by an ingenious arrangement that broke as I was falling asleep last night. So one slat short, on a rice-paper mattress did not make for a restful night.

To make up for matters of sleep we had a chocolate pastry for second breakfast before catching an early tourist bus. Yes folks, the planning paid off.

Our first stop was the Park Guel. Gaudi and Guell had the idea of setting up an English park like suburb, hence the spelling. Spaniard a have an inherent belief in the English ability to organise. After all they fought off the Armada, and even more impressively can queue, something Spaniards in numbers exceeding one (and sometimes less) find all nigh impossible. The residential plan did not take off and now the place is a park you pay to get into. Some interesting stuff with the gatehouse/shop being very 'ginger bread house'. The place is on the side of a hill leading so a bit of climbing. I think I am over Gaudi, though the park itself was a nice change of pace.

To cleanse the visual palette of any gaudy remnants we decided to stop and check out the Reial Monestir De Santa Maria De Pedralbas. The simple gothic was a pleasant relief. Build in the fourteenth century as a country nunnery, it is now in a Barcelona outer suburb with some very expensive looking neighbours. Still an oasis of rest and peace, unlike the bed. By now the lack of sleep was catching up, as were the hillsides. I was most grateful for a pair of wonderful socks, thank you Laura, that kept the feet feeling fine.

We dropped off at Estacion De Sants to pick up Montserrat tickets and check on the car rental. All good and onto Mont Juic via the Teleferico. The Castell  is there to protect the Port of Barcelona. I can just hear the un-Gaudi like architeural instructions. 'Make it big, make it solid, fill it with dirt, give me places to site big guns.......nah don't care what it looks like'. In a way very un-Barcelona. The city seems to have a passion for decorative buildings. Perhaps it is an antidote to the inability to reserve almost any useful open space in the teeming metropolis. The view from Mt Juic brings home how little space there is.

Though we walked less, we climbed more, so socks were important. The first thing I did when I got back to the apartment was to check the bed. The slat is back, but the mattress remains thin. Still, one out of two is better than I normally do. Salud de sunny Spain. Although we gather Catalunya is not Spain....or won't be soon.....or something.