Ole Ole .. Barcelona

Find myself without play friends, tragic really when those around you must do mundane things like work for a living, and thus I decide to take a quick reconnosence trip to Spain check out what's on offer West of the border.

Before I even get out of the airport there seems to be a hold up...9pm flight is delayed for two hours, this I find out after going through security and having to relinquish my bottled water, so plans of arriving in Barcelona city and sitting down to a very 'el Spaniol' meal at mid-night was out the window before I even got near the place...and there were no meals to be had in departures at this hour, which was a shame as it's actually quite a good option when you want to drop a kilo or two, a serve of festering salmonella from the bay-marees guarantees a better flush to the system than colonic irrigation and a lot cheaper but perhaps no less private as the sounds emitting can be quite startling to oneself let alone to those packed in like sardines on a boeing flight - good idea to let the air-crew know what's going on as you don't want to be the cause of crash positions being taken and air-masks being dropped. Then just try walking out of the wc with your head held high while the scent of pepe-le-phew follows you down the aisle (no amount of arm waving in the cubicle dispells the odour and trying to camourflage with perfume tends brings on eye-watering reactions, the mascara runs and you end up looking like an extra from 'the zombies return' movie). The benefits are that those sitting next to you will request new seating and your stomach has concaved enough to make bikini wearing acceptable.

After two fabbo days in Barcelona, I hopped another flight to Madrid...ready to take on the architectural delights, after Barcelona, figured the capital city will have lots on offer, well didn´t get past the taxi driver at the airport - I get directed into the que and when my turn comes to get the next in line cab. I in my best lisp ispired accent proceed to ask for my hotel with the street name (I came prepared), cabbie (five foot nothing with a moustache wider than his face) asks if I´m on my own -"yeth" I respond... "Noh Ombre" he asks...."Noh" I answer honestly, after a quick calculation of whether I'd made any recent commitments ..."what about at ome", that would still be a "noh". Cabbie walks off to the cluster of other drivers, yours truly thinking it´s to do with finding the best way to do the scenic route without raising my suspicions, when he comes back announcing that driver ´Miguel´has a cousins son who´d do nicely as an ómbre for the lonely Duchess and thus proceeding to give me the virtues of this particular Spaniard (no commitments - read not working; tall - read over five foot; well build - read hasn't lost any limbs). Well blow me over, what can I say, no need to log onto a lonely hearts web site, the local cabbies have got you covered in Mah-Drid.

No sooner had I checked the main sights of Mah–drid that I realise I'm missing Gaudi's Barcelona, this dude was an architectural genius and worthy of a second look....so back on plane - double check there are no delays before proceeding through security, once in a week is quite enough blood sugar levels being depleted in departure lounge...don't need to be eyeing off junior travellers half chewed teething rings and their unreasonable parents reluctance to share the stewed apple, it's not like you're asking to adopt the rug rats.