SUNDAY11.10.02 - Day 9

Sunday Day 9
9:30AM

Thawaaak!!! went the driver... Zzzziiiinnnngggg… went the ball climbing high into the crisp Mediterranean morning air. It makes a perfect arch, lands softly, and rolls another 50 feet in center of the immaculate fairway and comes to a stop. I pick up my tee and follow my fellow golfers down the fairway for my lay up shot before chipping onto the green for a 1 putt par. I pick up my ball and...


BBBRRRRRIIIIIINNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!

The alarm clock went off jarring me from my sleep....

Awwwww Dammit!!! It was just a dream. I HADN'T really just pared the first hole at El Saler, it was just super wishful thinking.

I was surprised at how good I felt after the night before. I decided if I was going to meet John and Decton for golf [the real thing this time] I should check to see:
A} If I would be able to join them and
B} If so, I needed to grab some clubs and head for the driving range to see just how bad this morning would get.

At the caddy masters desk I discovered that John had reservation for one at his tee-time and was grouped with 3 strangers. I was sure that he believed he had 2 places reserved [for he and Decton] and he was unaware that the caddy master had arranged a different 4-some. I asked the caddy master about the discrepancy on John’s tee-time. He told me that if John needed two, he can get them out with another group at 10:40am. As it was coming up to 10am I hustled back to the room and called John to alert him of the situation. John thanked me for the information and asked if I would join him for a round of golf. I declined because we really needed to get out to Barcelona. Illy and I headed out for a delightful breakfast and a spectacular view of the magnificent golf course with the Mediterranean in the background. After breakfast we walked to the clubhouse to buy Chuck a memento with him whimpering all the way about not being able to play on this great links course.

We strolled out toward the beach to view the Mediterranean up close and saw a small child [the only one that would darer to get into the water at this time of year] playing in the surf. The path to the beach was past the 8th and 9th holes, and we got some great photos as well as a super pic of the 18th fairway and green.

I left Illy in the room to finish packing and strolled over to see if John and Decton had sorted out the tee-time. They had. They invited me one last time to join them and I regretfully declined. However, I did get some great pics of the McGirr boys on the first tee. In fact they even got a shot of me teeing off on the first tee at El Saler. [now if I could just par this hole.... Oooppss… there I go dreaming again]

Once back in the room after a quick shot of Illy on the balcony with a death grip on the railing [We all know how acrophobic she is] I got back in the room just in time to spot John and Decton on the first fairway. Actually John was in the fairway, Decton was coming out of the woods to the right. With our super zoom lens, I think I got some great shots of them, which we will email when we return home.

1PM - On The Road To... Barcelona

Check out was uneventful. As we headed out the gate Chuckie immediately turned in the wrong direction, which forced an immediate pirula and we finally headed north to Valencia and Barcelona. A stop in Valencia to find an Internet hookup and send a NOWAT wound up being a very long walk around town to no avail. It of course was Sunday and in the middle of siesta. These Valencianos take their siesta seriously! It was getting late and we decided to head out for Barcelona, which was supposed to be a 3-hour drive.

Of course it took us 3 tries to get out of Valencia. Each time taking a different route which mysteriously lead us back to the city center. Once we found the correct route, the road to Barcelona was magnificent. We had planned to stop in Tarragona for lunch but the lengthy trek through Valencia was going to cause us some serious night driving as it was. With our past experiences of poorly labeled streets in these Spanish cities we were already dreading entering Barcelona at night.

Coming out of the mountains and going up the mountains and going down the mountains again netted some phenomenal vistas. For most of the way our route skirted the coast of the Mediterranean and several points were reminiscent of the route along the Amalfi coast in Italy. So at this point, let the Oooofffing and Eeeekking and Madre de´s … begin.

As dusk set in and the roads began to wind upwards even more, Illy, of the “White Knuckle school” of navigation was having a real difficult time with these challenging mountain roads. Turning onto the coastal road out of Taragona we thought we would have a delightful view, but not only was it nighttime, but the traffic was backed up for miles. Because the road was so treacherous we went from Tarragona [normally one hour] to Barcelona at 40kph until we hit the AUTOVIA and then… let the pirula’s begin!

Somehow we were not on the route we had planned for entry into Barcelona and it took several stops and “Preguntas” [questions] to get us headed in the right direction. Once on the Avenida Diagonal we missed a critical turn because of unfamiliarity with our last directions and placement of the signage. This caused us to criss-cross, back and forth, up and down, and round and round some really NARROW streets. At one point we almost turned down the street to our hotel but at a quick glance it appeared to be a dead end. So we opted to go around Barri’ Gotic again. We were now trying to follow the MapBlast directions and enter via Las Ramblas but could not find the turn off that way either. After several stops to peruse the map Chuckie decided one last time to try the street we ignored in the beginning. One hour and 15 minutes after entering the city of Barcelona we pulled up to our hotel.
Gee…are we having fun yet??? [Hell YES... Illy says getting lost is half the fun!?!]

I had forgotten to advise Illy that our hotel was in the heart of Barri’ Gotic which was the original center of Barcelona. Its narrow streets and ancient buildings create a maze of twists and turns in what would appear to be a very seedy part of town. It just happens to be where all of the action is.

We checked into the hotel and decided to ask the question that has been plaguing us for the entire trip but keep forgetting to ask. “When we reserve a double for two people is it customary to have a room with two twin beds or don’t you have a room with full or queen size beds?”. The answer was “yes we have rooms with one large bed, [Cama Matrimonia] but when you order a double or room for two people, that normally is assigned a room with two single beds.” We asked to see one of their rooms with a ‘large’ bed. Unhhh.. Unhhhh.... It was Soooo tight that there was not enough room to open both pieces of the luggage. We opted to keep the room with the twin beds.

After parking the luggage – it was time to park the car.
We were told that there was a garage adjacent to the hotel; we were not told that he closes at 7PM on Sunday and does not open again until 8AM the following day. We then had to drive several blocks away to find another garage. With the car now secure, we headed out to find an Internet connection and find a place to eat. Our first Internet stop from an address off the internet did not have the facilities we needed to upload our disc and recommended another place around the corner that had all the bells and whistles we needed to get the NOWAT out. After a quick check of email and at the threat of the Cuban lady gnawing my arm off, we headed to find a place to eat. After a brief circle around 3 blocks of Las Ramblas, we settled on Casa Joan.

NOTE: When in Barcelona and you find yourself on Las Ramblas DO NOT repeat DO NOT choose Casa Joan for dinner. In Italy we had that horrible little place across from the entrance to Pompeii, in Spain we had Casa Joan! The food was mediocre at best, the service was worse. When it came to paying the bill, we found the two Tapas preceding the meal suggested by the ever-inattentive waiter, was grossly over priced. In fact paying the bill took almost as long as getting and consuming the meal. Escaping Casa Juan before Chuckie got ugly, we walked back to the hotel where Chuckie edited the NOWAT and crashed.

It is now way past the Cuban Lady´s dinner and bedtime so we are off to grab a quick sandwich and crash. [This was dictated on the road from Barcelona to Madrid by way of Zaragoza, with many detours [unplanned] and pirulas etc., in between much Oooofffing and Eeeekking. And finished in the restaurant across from our hotel in Madrid. The ride from Barcelona was unexpectedly rough.... but more about that when we get to that part of the Saga of the Wacky American Tourist and the Ever-lovely but pinching me to feed her, Illy and their search for her:
Ancestry,
Some great Photo Ops,
Lots of Chotchkie’s
and a bottle of Fine Spanish Brandy.

Ciao 4 Now
Chuck and the thoroughly ravenous Cuban Lady