London with the kids

It was so exciting looking forward to the arrival of the kids and Mum & Dad. We made some soup for lunch and took it around to Mark & Paula’s place and then set out for Heathrow. The trusty internet reckoned that their plane was going to be getting in about 20 mins earlier than anticipated.  We made it to Heathrow about 12.40, the time that the Heathrow website reckoned that their plane would land. The arrivals board at Heathrow had their plane arriving at 13.05, so we went and got a coffee. Having finished our coffee, we found that Paula and the girls had arrived, and so we went and got a good watching place at the rail to wait for them. So we waited. And waited. Emma and Alice used the waiting time repeatedly visiting the toilets. Siobhan got sick of waiting first and went to find out what was going on. In true airport style, no one would tell us anything. Eventually, at 15.50 (about 3 hours late), they came into arrivals. Kate was leading the way, and was very glad to be off the plane. Their flight from LA had been delayed and they had missed the connecting flight in Frankfurt. Anyway, it was great to see them. The initial plans to take photos of them coming through the arrivals gate were long forgotten and so there are no photos.

We headed back to Mark’s and he had heated up the soup so we had that for a very late lunch / dinner about 5pm. After that we brought the kids back to our flat and had a quiet evening.

On Sunday morning we headed in to Woking to look for a coat for Jared. He didn’t have a good thick coat and with some of the weather we have been having over here, he would certainly need one. We found one that he really liked very quickly, and he also found some boots. These have both been good purchases as he seems to have worn them every day since.  Kate also found some boots and so it was a successful shop all around. We got home in time for Mark to drop Mum & Dad around and so we had lunch here and then went for a brief walk in Woking Park. After that, Siobhan took Mum & Kate to Marks & Spencer’s as Mum was looking for some new socks and Kate wanted to go shopping. Dad, Jared and I caught the train from Woking to Addlestone and we met the girls for coffee in Addlestone before descending on Mark & family for a roast dinner. A very nice evening.

Monday meant that Siobhan had to return to work but we headed into London. I took the kids for a walk across the Jubilee Bridge and through Whitehall showing them where I had worked over here. We then saw Big Ben strike 11 o’clock, and went to Westminster Abbey. The line to get in was pretty long so we just admired it from the outside. From there we headed to St James Park where Kate got to see her first squirrels. There were people there feeding the squirrels with nuts and so we needed to get some nuts. There weren’t any for sale in any of the cafes in the park and so we kept walking down to Buckingham Palace. We arrived in time to see the changing of the guard with the guards all dressed in their red finery on their beautiful black horses. From there we headed up towards Hyde Park. On our way we passed the New Zealand war memorial which was really nice. In a country of massive stone structures and memorials, the NZ memorial is very stylish and really captured the high points of NZ.

At Hyde Park, we discovered the Winter Wonderland. It was a collection of bright and flashy stalls selling crap that is highly sought after only at Christmas. After scurrying through there, we emerged at the Serpentine Lake in the park, and the Serpentine café. That seemed like a good time for lunch. After lunch we headed back towards Harrods. We couldn’t go directly there though – we needed to spend more time playing with and watching squirrels. After the squirrels we made it to Harrods and I eventually found the Egyptian escalators. We tripped around the store, and Kate got to see the Millionaires’ Gallery. This consists of mounted film posters signed by the stars all in amazing presentation frames. So, for instance, they had one of the various Batman movies, with small posters from each movie signed by the relevant people, all mounted in a bigger frame. They retail for between £5-10,000. We also made it to the pet level, where we saw some bichon frise for £2,000 each, and a couple of kittens that looked like Willow and Splash. They were very fluffy and just how we remembered them as kittens. Kate also saw some pygmy Russian hamsters that she wanted to get. They were only £15 each, but with a life expectancy of only 12 months and presumably spending 6 months of those in quarantine getting back into NZ we eventually convinced her that they were not a sensible purchase. 

In Harrods we saw an advertisement for a Hollywood costumes exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Both of the kids were keen to see that so we wandered down there. It was interesting, but quite full of people and so it was difficult to read the material accompanying the displays. We eventually escaped and headed home. We had originally intended to ride on the London Eye but decided that we had had enough for one day and so left that for another day.

Christmas Spectacular

We planned to visit Andrew & Brigitte again before Christmas. Siobhan had her work Christmas party on the Friday night, and so we left bright and early Saturday morning for Kings Lynn. We spent another relaxing weekend with Andrew & Brigitte and the highlight was them taking us to the Christmas Spectacular at a little place called Thursford. It started out as one guy with a collection of traction engines that he opened up to the public, and has developed into something easily as good as the West End shows in London.  It has developed quite a reputation and busloads of spectators come in from all across the country.  We had been told by Andrew and Brigitte that it sells out months in advance, but last-minute cancellations make last-minute tickets possible.  They had managed to get four tickets but we were all seated in different parts of the hall.

The whole place is decorated to maximum effect, and the variety show went for 3 hours (including a 30 minute intermission). They had about 30 dancing girls, about 40 singers, and orchestra and a guy playing the Wurlitzer. The show was a mixture of dance routines of various types – ballet, tap, can-can and more modern, and the music was a mixture of Christmas carols, rock & roll and classical.  The whole event is truly a spectacular cabaret-type event despite its Christmas theme.  We were just delighted by it all, and so pleased we had been able to get tickets.

After the show was over we wandered about the hall a little as they really have gone overboard with the decorations.  We only have a few photos but hope they show something of the atmosphere.  We had got tickets to the Sunday matinee show, and went indoors during daylight.  On exiting into winter darkness we saw that the Christmas decorations even extended to lighting up most of the trees in the grounds.  

It was another wonderful (although brief) weekend in Norfolk, but sadly we had work the next day and so had to drive straight home after the show.

A Dark Day

After the All Blacks’ exploits against Scotland and Wales, we were looking forward to the game against England. England had played pretty rubbish in their earlier matches, with their captain making some match-losing calls towards the end of their games against Australia and South Africa. Still, the English press were talking the England team up while the word on the street was how big the All Blacks’ winning margin was going to be.

We got to the stadium in plenty of time – we trained to Clapham Junction and they had special trains from there going to Twickenham. We got a hot pork roll on our way to the game, and I also bought a disposable set of ref ears so that I could listen to the referee during the game. Our seats were right up in the Gods. While I knew that we would have seats that were far removed from the action, they had a better view than I expected. Unfortunately, it was a good view of a great game from England. The first half was tough going with the All Blacks unable to turn over any ball. As a result, when we got any ball it was in our own 22 and so we kicked it away. Dan missed three pretty easy kicks and we were down 12-0 at half time.

England grabbed another penalty just after half time, and things weren’t looking great. Then we scored two long-range tries in very quick succession and suddenly it was 15-14 and all on. The English fans went pretty quiet, and we and the NZers around us were giving them everything – well as much as a few Kiwis packed into the corner of the stadium could. Any other English team would have capitulated at that point, but instead England came back and scored two great tries of their own. We started playing catch-up and gave them another try. So England scored an historic win, but at least played a great game of rugby to do so.

The English fans were very good about it too. In wearing all of my All Blacks gears, I didn’t get hassled much on the way home. In fact, we had a couple of great conversations on the trains on the way home – with English fans who were of the view that they had witnessed something special – England playing to their potential on a day when the All Blacks had an off-day.

York

We were really looking forward to going to York. It promised so much history that we were interested in, as well as a reputation for being very beautiful.

The Ashberry

We escaped work again on Friday evening and headed to King’s Cross station. Siobhan managed to get there before me again despite the fact that she had further to travel. We grabbed some hot food and got on to the train in plenty of time. While the last time that we had been on this train (when we went to Edinburgh) had been action packed and very entertaining, we were both very pleased that our carriage was very quiet so we could just relax. We got to York without event, and although it was freezing cold, we decided to walk to our B&B (The Ashberry) as it wasn’t very far according to Apple maps. It actually wasn’t either, and so we checked in about 8.30pm. The hosts, Steve and Sara, were very welcoming although quite surprised that we weren’t heading back out. We were pretty had it after a week at work and our room was toasty warm while it was freezing outside.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and we were the first ones down to breakfast. Breakfast was great. While we were having breakfast and watching the world go by, the sunshine was heating everything up and the steam was rising off the roofs of buildings. This was making it quite hazy. By the time we had finished breakfast and got rugged up to head outside, it was quite foggy and our bright sunny day had disappeared. 

 

First stop was the Mickelgate Bar. There are four of these around York, built into the city wall. And I haven’t developed a drinking problem, heading straight to a bar after breakfast either. The bars are the gates into the city, with portcullises and the works. According to my favourite historian (Siobhan), Mickelgate Bar was the gate at which traitors’ heads were mounted on pikes for all to see. As it was still so cold, the gates up onto the wall were closed as it was rumoured that the wall was icy and so wasn’t open. It was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. We were slightly disappointed that the wall wasn’t open, but we were hoping that the day would warm up so that it would open later in the day.

We decided that our next stop would be York Minster. This is another amazing church. We had intended climbing the tower to get a view over the city, but as it was very foggy we decided that we would save our energy. Hugh Jory (Ian’s brother) explained the difference between a Minster and a Cathedral on Sunday, and it had something to do with whether the bishop has a seat there or not. While that seemed a plausible explanation, the fact that there was a cathedra (a bishop’s seat) in York Minster didn’t fully explain it for me.

From the Minster, we headed to Bootham Bar where we were able to climb up onto the wall. This was still freezing cold, but it was very atmospheric, walking along the walls in the mist and fog. We walked all the way around to Monk Bar where we descended and headed back into town. After a very nice coffee, we headed for The Shambles. It is one of the main shopping streets in York, and presumably gets its name from the state of the buildings that line each side of the narrow lane. The are seriously old school, and the years have been less than kind with the various right-angles that the buildings once possessed. It all looks very quaint though, and Siobhan got some really nice wool in one shop for a future jersey / cardigan. 

We also visited the XIIIth Century Holy Trinity Church. As its name implies, this was very old, and it was amazing to see the subsidence that had occurred yet the church remained standing.

We next headed to Clifford’s Tower, the main fortification remaining in York. It stands atop what I think was a man-made hill, overlooking the surrounding city. The fog had lifted slightly, and so we got a reasonable view around York. Clifford’s Tower had an interesting history, and while it doesn’t take long to fully check it out, it was well worth the visit. It helped that it is run by English Heritage and so our membership meant that we got in for free.

The York Castle museum was next and although we were a little apprehensive about spending time in a museum when there were other things to see, it proved to be one of the highlights of the trip. While there was various information about York and its history, what it did really well was its recreations of houses, rooms and streets from days gone by. There was a whole street set up with stables and coaches, as well as all kinds of different shops. It was very well done. We had a good wander around and then headed back to our B&B to drop off the shopping before heading to the pub to watch the All Blacks play Wales. Luckily a pub just down the road from our B&B was going to show the game so we didn’t have to wander far.

I guess that the game will be remembered for Andrew Hore’s forearm king-hit on the Welsh lock very early in the game, and then the Welsh fight-back in the second half. But for us it will be remembered for the other Kiwis that were at the pub watching the game too. One was from Wellington, and the other two were from Hawkes Bay. It was nice chatting to them. They had just returned from a trip to Rome, Florence, Venice and Paris – which was the reverse of the trip we had planned to do with the kids just after Christmas. They recommended that we book our accommodation through AirBnB, and this was a great recommendation.

After the All Blacks had done the business, we headed back into town for dinner and ended up at a Spanish tapas place. It was nice, but not as good as the real thing had been in Barcelona.

On Sunday we met up with Hugh and he escorted us around the wider York area. We visited the Ripon Cathedral, and then had lunch at a very cute little pub in north Yorkshire somewhere.

Hugh returned us to York later in the afternoon, but we still had a bit of time before our train home, so we all went on York’s wheel. It had cleared up from Saturday, and so we were able to get a bit of a perspective on York before heading to the train. Annoyingly, the train was delayed by just over an hour, but once we were on the train, it was a reasonably uneventful trip home.

Murrayfield

One of the things that I was determined to do on our UK trip was to see the All Blacks play over here. Through a NZ website linked to AllBlacks.com, NZers can buy tickets for the games over here and be in the section where tickets are allocated to NZ. We went for this option as it meant that we didn’t miss out on tickets, although we realised that we would be sitting at the end of the ground or in the corners. Not my favourite viewing spot, but then if I simply wanted a great view, I should stay home and watch it on the telly. Anyway, tickets sorted, on Friday night we headed to King’s Cross station for our 6pm train to Edinburgh.

On embarking on the train we found ourselves seated in a very lively area of the train. There was a group of Newcastle football fans who were on their way back from Bruge. Apparently it very exciting for Newcastle to play in Europe and so their fans went along to support. While their team managed a 2-2 draw, they had certainly been celebrating for a bigger occasion. At our table were Adam and Johnny, a couple of 20ish lads who were quite quiet, and had done most of their celebrating the previous night. At the table opposite, were Keith & Richard and Andrew & Paula. Richard was a big guy with tattoos who doesn’t drink. It seemed that he had been the person trying to keep them all in line on the trip. Keith was your stereotypical Geordie 40-something who had seemingly been propping up bars all the way from Bruge. He was very amusing though. He greeted everyone around us, and made some pretty suggestive and inappropriate comments to everyone. It was all very playful, which was good because he was throwing around F&Cs like they were going out of fashion, and I don’t mean fish & chips. He kept us amused for a long time, but eventually it started to wear a bit thin. Luckily there was a spare seat further down the carriage with some of his mates and he went and visited them to give us some respite.

Andrew was a Scotsman, but his partner Paula grew up in Oamaru. For those not following the story closely, that was one of the places that Siobhan spent a period of her childhood too. While that was coincidental, at least they weren’t neighbours and weren’t in Oamaru at the same time. This story was the source of huge mirth for Keith, however, who was sure that they were related through some combination of mothers and aunties. Andrew & Paula were on their way up to Edinburgh for the rugby too. Once we passed Newcastle and let the Newcastle lads off, another NZ guy moved seats and joined us and we had a great chat. He was also from Wellington. By this stage we had been on the train for 3 hours at least, and the wine was starting to take its toll on Paula. She became a useful stand-in for Keith but not quite as funny. While some of the comments were a bit cringe-worthy, I’d have to say that I probably haven’t laughed so hard for a long time either. By the time we rolled into Edinburgh at 10.30pm we were well ready to get off the train though.

Getting a taxi to Nicola’s was pretty straightforward. Luckily she had left the pub and just made it home before us. It was good to see her again and to catch up.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, but there was a bit of a dark cloud for Siobhan as she injured her ankle somehow. We are not quite sure what was wrong with it. It wasn’t twisted or sprained, but there must have been some sort of pinched nerve of something as it kept giving her shooting pains when she walked – and was particularly bad going down stairs. Anyway, we decided that we would head out and try and make the most of the great weather. The first stop was brunch at the Dome. I’m sure we will have posted photos of it last time we were in Edinburgh, and it really is one of the places that you have to stop at in Edinburgh. At this time of year, it is covered in Christmas decorations and they are really spectacular. We passed it a few times during the day and so I have photos of the outside in different light. 

Nicola & Siobhan outside the Dome

Inside, the decorations are even more amazing. They have an enormous Christmas Tree which is beautifully decorated, and has thousands of little LED lights on it. All of the pillars are wrapped with swirling wreaths of green stuff, once again with little lights. In the wrong hands this could have been Christmas overload and very tacky, but these guys have real style and the result is a Christmas Wonderland. I’m starting to see what everyone is saying about a winter Christmas being a “proper” Christmas. I’m not yet convinced, as I think that the Christmas BBQ in fine warm weather will take some beating. But the fact that you can turn on your Christmas lights to full effect at 4.30pm is kinda cool. 

Green tree

And then it turned blue!

We were supposed to be meeting Nicola’s friend Sarah at the dome, but she also had a guest from London come up to watch the rugby and they hadn’t made it up to meet us at 11. So we had lunch and then took pity on Siobhan and caught a taxi up to the Old Town. 

With the Christmas tree at the back of the Dome

It was nice having a wander around up here again. Last time we were in Edinburgh they were getting the Castle ready for the Tattoo and there was temporary grandstand seating everywhere. It was all gone and we could take in the views all around the Castle. Because I was wearing my All Blacks jacket, we got stopped by one of the many officials wandering around outside the Castle asking us if we’d just seen the All Blacks. They were staying at a hotel part way down the Royal Mile and had not long previously been wandering out and about signing autographs. We must have just missed them, as they had then been bussed away somewhere to watch the England v Fiji match. We were trying to get away from this guy (who was very keen and enthusiastic about his rugby which is great to see) when another guy in a NZ shirt turned up with a photo. Piri, Cory and Aaron Smith had been signing autographs with fans filing in behind them to have their picture taken with them. Aaron got called away from the table to answer some media questions so this guy (who was wearing an old school AB’s jersey) had asked Piri if he could sit at the table. Piri said yes, and so this random guy got a seat at the table and people were getting their photos taken with Cory, Piri and random guy. He was stoked though.

On the way back down the Royal Mile, Nicola said that we had to go down on of the side-streets and get a photo of something. As Siobhan’s ankle was giving her grief, Nicola and I went and got the photo, while Siobhan headed into a shop as it was starting to spit to rain. When we came back from getting the photo, Siobhan was lining up the purchase of a rather nice green corduroy jacket. We had barely been gone 5 mins and she had had a shopping frenzy. 

We then headed a bit further down the road to The Real Mary King’s Close. It is an underground tour that shows how the Old Town has developed over the years. Unfortunately, instead of showing you the layer of building upon building, where new buildings have been built on top of others, they have come up with a story involving people and ghosts to keep people entertained. There is a smattering of history in there too, but not enough for my liking. Instead the whole thing was really dimly lit so you couldn’t see much, except for the occasional dodgy mannequin diorama which was either a murder or something to do with the plague. The only redeeming feature was that our tour was led by a Sarah Michelle Gellar look-alike, who had a really cool Irish accent. 

After the tour, it was really quite wet outside and getting dark. At 4pm. So we grabbed another taxi back to the Dome in the hope of catching up with Sarah (Nic’s friend – not the Sarah Michelle Gellar look-alike). Everyone had that idea though, and there was a lengthy queue to get in. We decided to go next door instead, although briefly saw Sarah and decided to meet up before the rugby for lunch on Sunday. 

Daylight

Getting darker...4pm

Fully dark - not long after 5pm

At The Dirty Martini Bar in Le Monde Hotel, we had a couple of cocktails which was a nice way to warm up against the cold. Seeing as Siobhan didn’t have any cocktails to numb the pain in her ankle, we had to get another taxi back to Nicola’s. 

The Le Monde Hotel next to the Dome

We left Siobhan there and went to get some beer and ingredients so that I could make quiche for dinner. I made it for Nic when we were last up there and apparently she’s been raving about it ever since. Nic’s flatmate, Danni, had been promised that I would make quiche since early in the week, and even in the brief time when we met Sarah, she told me that I had to go home and cook quiche otherwise the girls would be disappointed. We got the ingredients and went to this little boutique beer and wine shop. It cracked me up to see Tui in their World Beer section. A little taste of home. I couldn’t bring myself to buy it though. We also got some really runny brie and some smoky cheese at the cheese shop just up the road, so we had something to snack on while I exercised my culinary skills.

Back at Nic’s the quiche got safely made and the cheese was delicious. We had an interesting evening sitting around watching music videos on YouTube.

Sunday dawned a bit Groundhog Day, being brilliantly fine again. This was a pleasant surprise after the rainy previous evening. As Nic and Danni had said that they weren’t getting up until 10 at the earliest, we got up and I went and got coffee. There was a great little café that has opened up about 100 metres from Nicola’s flat called Peter’s Yard. It made great coffee and looked to have a range of great organic food. But I didn’t get any of that as Nic was making us porridge. With a spurtle. Apparently, “spurtle” is Scottish for “stick”. Instead of using a wooden spoon to stir the porridge, the Scots use a stick. I couldn’t complain too much though, as it was great porridge. Not sure if this was due to the spurtle but it was nice anyway.

After trying to get hold of Sarah about where to meet up for lunch, we decided to head into the train station to drop off our bags. The interweb had said that you could leave you bags there for £7 a bag. While a bit steep, it was probably cheaper than getting a taxi back to Nic’s after the game and then getting the taxi to take us to the train station. The only thing that the interweb didn’t tell you about was the really long queue for people wanting to drop off bags. It looked like their busiest day for a long time. Once the bags were dropped off, we went and had some lunch giving up on meeting Sarah. She texted apologising during lunch. Apparently they had gone out on Saturday night and not got back until 4am. We’d have struggled to make lunch if we’d been out until then too.

We then headed to Princes Street and caught the bus to Murrayfield. There were a number of kiwis on the bus and it was already a good atmosphere. The Stadium was pretty huge and impressive as we were walking towards it. And the crowd was pretty sizeable too. Murrayfield holds nearly 70,000 and that is a lot of people when they are converging on one place. It was easy getting in though. No bag search or anything. And when we got in there, they sell beer in glass bottles. Given the stories you see about football fans, they clearly have a different standard of supporter for rugby. Or maybe it is just that most of them are supporting Scotland. Most of the banter from the Scottish fans was how much the All Blacks were going to win by, and then hoping for either some sublime All Blacks play or for Scotland to put up a fight.

Our seats weren’t as bad as I expected. A number of people had said that there isn’t a bad seat in Murrayfield and I think that they are right. While I like watching rugby from between the 22 and halfway, we were sitting in the corner of the ground. But it was great seeing the All Blacks run out onto the field and do the haka. The national anthems were a real contrast – they had no one leading them, and so the NZ one had started before anyone really knew and it was a bit subdued and confused with some people singing in Maori and some in English. And we only got one verse. But when the Scottish anthem started, the whole Stadium erupted in song and it was great to hear and feel. They are really passionate about their rugby up here.

The game was a bit average really. We looked like a team that had made 10 changes to its starting line-up from the last outing. Some of the combinations didn’t gel as well as we have come to expect. And the opening try was scored by Scotland. Their backs were lurking in our backline and took an intercept to score. Hard to blame them, the Scots backs weren’t getting great ball from their forwards, but Dan Carter’s pass really put them away. Normal transmission resumed after that, with Israel Dagg, Cory Jane and Andrew Hore all scoring tries. The second half finished with the Scots hot on attack though, and denied a try by the video ref. It was tough to call but I would have given it to them. The ref played a penalty advantage though, and they tapped and ran and scored anyway. It was good seeing them giving us a real go. I expected that our defence would be too much for them and that they wouldn’t get through. When the Scots came out after halftime and scored again, I was starting to get a little nervous. We were playing very average – basic errors – kicks out on the full etc, and Adam Thompson was sent to the bin for rucking someone’s head. It didn’t look very inadvertent to me – but at least the ball came out from very close to there – it might be the only thing that saves him in front of the judiciary. That is if he survives his meeting with the coaching team first as Mr Hansen did not appear very impressed at all when they showed him on the big screen.

Anyway, we won 51-22.  We didn’t deserve to put 50 points on them – they played really well. We didn’t play all that well yet managed to score 50 points – I guess that says something too.

On leaving the ground Siobhan’s foot wasn’t that much better, but the buses were nowhere to be seen. A policeman told us that it would be quicker to walk than to go to where the buses were going from. So we walked towards the Haymarket station. Once there, the queues were so long that we decided to carry on on-foot as standing waiting for a train would likely be worse. The good thing was that not far up the road we got yet another taxi and made it to the train station. This was all good and we got onto the train without any problems. 

Our coach seemed to be largely full of contented kiwis heading back to London after a long weekend. And it was very peaceful until we stopped at Newcastle and some old Geordie gits got on the train. On Friday they were funny. Late Sunday afternoon / evening they are not. And we had to put up with them right through to London.  We got into King’s Cross at 10.45 and then had to catch the tube to Waterloo and then get the train to Woking. While we had had another really great weekend, the final twist of fate was that one of the old Geordie gits was on our train back to Woking. At least he just acknowledged us and went and sat in another carriage. We got home just after midnight for a very long day.

Saturday in Barcelona

We didn’t have a set agenda for the day on Saturday, so we enjoyed a bit of a sleep-in before heading back to Elsa y Fred for brunch.  Grant enjoyed bacon and scrambled eggs while I went for French toast (Spanish style) with fruit.  I must say the meal was both delicious and incredibly stylish, although I think Jared would have wondered where the rest of his breakfast was.  

After brunch, it was time to tackle the Spanish metro system to travel up to Parc Güell, another Antonio Gaudi masterpiece.  We think we handled it all pretty well.  We managed to get the machine to display most things in English, and only had to ask an attendant what a single zone covered before successfully buying our day passes.  The trip was quite quick at first, and we were wondering whether it might not have been better just to walk, but then the distances between stops got longer and the train got faster.  It would have been a very long walk! 

One thing that we found amusing (and would create riots in other cultures) was the countdown timers as to when the next metro train would arrive. Instead of like the Tube just having a random 3 or 4 minutes until the next train, Barcelona displays a countdown timer that counts down the minutes and seconds until the next train. Which might make you think that the trains run to a very tight schedule.  Actually what happened was that when the time got to less than one minute, you’d find that it would jump back up to a minute and 30 seconds. And when it got to less than 20 seconds, it would frequently jump back up to 30 seconds. Sometimes it would do this three or four times in a row. London commuters would tear the sign down in frustration I’m sure.

We got out at our planned station and found signs to Parc Güell very easily and heaved a sigh of relief.  And then we saw the hills we needed to climb.  Now, you would think that as Wellingtonians a few hills would just be pleasantly familiar.  We are worried that instead we will find Wellington very hard work after our lazy life on the flat!  We were simultaneously relieved and amazed to find outdoor escalators for the last stages of the “walk”.

Parc Güell is huge, and we saw only a fraction of it.  We started right at the top and had wonderful views out over Barcelona, and then made our way down towards the plaza area where there are two Gaudi buildings and his fabulous tile work and sculptured landscaping.  Of course, like La Sagrada Familia, it was very crowded with tourists like us, all jostling for the best photo opportunities.  Despite this we still got some lovely pictures to remember the place by.  

At the café here, we had really our only experience of poor service in Spain.  The woman behind the counter made a great show of understanding us, and then spoke to us only in Spanish.  Now, we are fine with that – we were in Spain and had not taken the time to learn any of their language; we did not expect lots of English speaking service staff.  What really annoyed us was that she gave a strong impression of knowing a lot of English, but making a point of not speaking it.  Not great form in a popular tourist destination, we felt.

From here, we made our way further up into the park to the Gaudi Museum.  This is the house he designed and lived in until late in his life when he moved into one of the outbuildings at La Sagrada Familia in order to better supervise the work there.  It is a lovely building in and of itself, but what I really loved was the furniture he had designed for other clients that had now made its way back to the museum – and his own work desk which was such an elegant and beautiful piece of furniture while still being totally functional.

A little more wandering around the park took the rest of the morning so we headed back down all the hills to the metro and back into town for lunch.  We had a special evening planned going to a flamenco show so after lunch we headed back to the hotel to put our feet up for a little while.

The flamenco was a dinner and show event over in Spanish Village, a former Exhibition site in the Montjuic area where the main Olympic Stadium is, so we headed over very early, again on the metro.  The station bought us out right below the art gallery, which is a magnificent and very imposing building right up on the hill.  

The approach to this is flanked by gorgeous box hedges and fountains, and in front at street level is a huge fountain called “The Magic Fountain”.  This is lit up at night and on Thursdays and Saturdays (more often in the summer) they have a show where the fountain is played to music.  What a coincidence – it was still Saturday.  We checked the times and found we could get back to the last show to music after the flamenco show.  Grant was trying to work out the sign and was most impressed by how quickly I had adjusted to the Spanish in working out the show times.  Reluctantly I pointed out that it was all in English at the bottom.  I do wonder if he would have noticed if I hadn’t said anything.

We detoured right around the art gallery (we didn’t feel up to admiring paintings this time) to the Olympic stadium.  I was really impressed to note that the original stadium had been built not for the 1992 Olympics, but for an Expo in 1929. The stadium was also meant to host the People's Olympiad in 1936, a protest event against losing the 1936 Summer Olympics to Berlin, but the event was cancelled because of the Spanish Civil War.  Not for them the massive expense of a fancy new stadium in 1992 – they used the one they already had.  And very beautiful it is too.  We had another moment of high amusement here – we came to the barrier at the entry closest to it and put the camera through the bars to get a good photo of the track and stands, only to wander further along and find we could go in and look around for free.

Another thing that the Fed and me have in common - the same shoe size

The plaza out in front of the stadium is equally impressive – lots of gorgeous fountains and sculptures.  It helped that the weather was so nice too.  

It was getting close to the time that we could go in to the Spanish Village and sightsee before our show, so we wandered back down the hill. The Spanish Village, Poble Espagnole, is really lovely.  It was built to exhibit all the different regional architectures of Spanish villages and is a wonderful conglomeration of these.  It has sections representing all of the different regions or provinces in Spain, with each section having goods associated with that region. The buildings house restaurants, bars, and shops, most of which are geared towards tourists.  The merchandise was mostly very good quality although unsurprisingly expensive.

The real reason for heading over this way was to go to Tablao de Carmen for the tapas and flamenco dancing. We had checked it out on Tripadvisor, and the reviews had recommended getting the tapas rather than their full menu. The only thing that Tripadvisor should also have added was that despite the website stressing that you had to be there by 6.30pm, they don’t open the doors until 6.45pm. And as you have a reservation (and need one), there’s not a whole lot of point in standing around outside for 15 minutes. Annoyingly, we’d seen most of Poble Espagnole by this stage, and most of the shops had shut anyway.

When 6.45 rolled around, we were shown to our table which was really close to the stage. Then they started bringing out the tapas. The Tripadvisor advice was right on the mark with this as the tapas were amazing. We got some bread and cheese and a jumbo plate of parma ham and chorizo. We thought that this was ok – it was a bit simple but there was plenty of food. And then they brought out mushrooms, potatoes in a spicy sauce, and finished off with calamari. Amusingly some of the cheese was goat’s cheese too – but it was well hidden and Siobhan had reached the point where she had sampled sufficient of it to let her guard down about any of the cheese being of caprine origin. The amount of food was more than we really should have finished, but it was so yummy. We hoovered it all up and when I suggested to Siobhan that we should throw our hands in the air to show we were first finished as if it was a university eating or drinking challenge, she thought that people probably wouldn’t get the different cultural reference. I know that Pauly would have been highly amused if he had been there though.

The flamenco was amazing too. When the performers first came out, it looked like it was a family business, where everyone was given a role no matter how talented. However, first impressions were quickly dispelled as the guy playing the guitar was incredible. And while the singing that accompanies flamenco guitar / dancing is unusual, the singers were certainly experts at that too. Having never seen real flamenco dancing before, we can’t say that we are expert judges of it.  But this was a masterful display. The first woman up was an older woman, but gee could she move. It was a case of seeing still made it difficult to believe. Very driven and passionate. The guy that danced the next set was even better. He was the music.

While all of this was going on they brought us crème brulee – as if we needed more food. But it was nice too. The third set was danced by a younger woman and see was even more energetic than the others – if that was possible. The finale involved them all having a brief dance – but flamenco is very much a solo affair so they only went on for their turn after the last person had left the stage. It was amazing and we’d highly recommend it. The food was great and the entertainment superb.

You’d think that would be enough excitement and entertainment for one evening, but there was more to come. We might have looked slightly ungracious as we bolted for the door when the show was finished, but the show finished at 8.30 and the Magic Fountain was scheduled to finish at 9pm. So we hurried down the hill to the fountain and it was stunning.

Sitting outside at Mon Ami Gabi watching the fountain outside the Bellagio in Las Vegas is still one of the highlights of our trip. But this fountain really rivalled that one. The fountain is comprised of a number of fountain heading back up the hill towards the Art Museum, so the scale of it is difficult to capture in a photo. And set to music as well – Freddy Mercury and Queen singing “Barcelona”. An amazing end to a full-on day.

But it wasn’t over yet! At the place that we got gelatos last night, Siobhan saw that they did hot chocolate like Scopa does in Wellington. A small serving, but a lot like liquid chocolate. So we had to go back there. We successfully navigated the Metro (basically like locals, and we weren’t disappointed – it did the funny countdown thing for us) and got to the hot chocolate shop. With hindsight I’m not sure how we managed it after all the food we had eaten, but we had hot chocolate with xuros (churros) for second pudding. That essentially brought our Spanish excursion to an end. We had such a great time.

Sunday morning we had to go straight to the airport. And after telling the taxi driver and the hotel concierge which airline we were flying with, they took us to the wrong terminal. Strangely enough, the taxi took us to the one that was furthest away and so the biggest fare. We then had to get the free transit bus back to the terminal that we passed – only to see our taxi driver queued up back there. I’m sure that there is a Spanish word for that.

Anyway, we got there in plenty of time and weirdly the plane boarded 40 mins before departure. The reason for this became obvious when everyone was on-board. When you fly on a cheap airline, they pay the lowest landing fees and so get parked around the back of everywhere. It was a 15-20 min taxi out to the runway. While we weren’t landing at Heathrow, Gatwick gave us a typical English welcome by making us stand in queues for the best part of an hour before we could escape to get our car and come home. After wandering around in jeans and t-shirts for three days, getting back to about 4°C certainly brought us back to reality. Still, we were still excited about what a great trip we’d had later that evening.