OK, so I believe in making the most of a holiday, but I'd picked up Christian from Heathrow at around 11 the previous night, and we'd driven to Horsham, getting to bed at 12.30. So the alarm at 4am was most unwelcome.
But get up we did, packed up very quickly, and got on the road to Gatwick. We arranged for the valet parking, did the compulsory two takes at finding the right place to leave the car, and waited for someone to arrive. Someone told us that we needed to go up the end, and so we did, finding the right person. That person proceeded to take many photos from many angles, apparently to prove that there was no damage prior to drop-off that could later be blamed on them. Anyway, it was a faff, and it was cold. We finally got inside, and went straight to the check-in counter, where we met Georgia. We checked in with no problems, and went straight through security. We were a little early at this stage.
We went to the same place for breakfast that we'd been on the way to Malta, and ordered some tasty food. Just before it arrived, I asked how much time we actually had to eat. After a slight panic, the food arrived quickly, and we inhaled it as best we could (I left a second cup of tea in the pot :-() and we made our way to the gate as the messages were saying that the flight was boarding. It wasn't of course, which made me mad, but we met up with the other Rackers, and particularly the lovely Steve and Kathrine. There were a few people I knew from Malta, but a lot of new faces, which was nice.
We boarded the Monarch flight, and I noted how little leg room there was. My knees were brushing the seat in front - I could only imagine how it was for tall people, though Christian didn't seem to mind. We had a small panic about where Christian's jacket was, but I remembered that he'd had it on when boarding, and hoped it was in the overhead locker (it was). The flight was comfortable enough, though I wasn't terribly impressed with Monarch - yes, they're a budget airline, but it all seemed slightly dodgy. I discovered that there was something stuck in my iPod's headphone jack, and so listened to music that was slightly skewed to the right. Christian pointed out snow-covered alps as we went over them. I ended up going to sleep near the end, as I didn't remember hearing about half of the album I was listening to. It was only an hour-and-a-half flight.
We landed in Barcelona without fuss, disembarked, and flashed our passports. The airport was big, shiny, and quite tropical looking. The Rackers all congregated just near the doors, while we were counted, and moved out to the coach. Again, it was a huge coach for not many people, but welcome all the same. It became clear that we actually had a tour guide this time (Beatrice?), and she arranged handing out of bottles of water, and gave us a spiel as we drove through the city. There was interesting architecture, notably an awesome red swirly building that I'd seen from the air. In the centre of the city, the architecture was graceful and Venetian in style. Everything was clean and well-maintained.
We went the long way around the block to get to the hotel, and our luggage was removed from the coach and taken up to our rooms for us. We, meanwhile, we taken to a dedicated Rackspace check-in desk, where we were given our room keys on big red tassles. The foyer and bar and function rooms downstairs were lavishly decorated. Unsurprising given the El Palace hotel used to be the Ritz. We were then taken to a room and fed canapes and bubbly. Amazing. Christian and I spent time with Steve and Kathrine.
We tore ourselves away, and went upstairs - it wasn't even lunch time at this stage. The room was huge, and lovely, with a chandelier, a balcony onto the street, a bed made up of two of the biggest single beds I'd ever seen, a TV pretending to be a mirror, and a bathroom with huge shower (with rainforest nozzle), bath, and his-and-hers basins. As we were exhausted, we had two or three hours sleep, which obviously wasn't enough, or even very satisfying. We made ourselves go out to see a bit of the city. We only had a vague plan, which involved food, and so decided to move in the direction of the harbour. We saw what there was to see, including an ATM with the numbers the wrong way around, and found ourselves on a harbour boardwalk, and decided to get some tapas (it was about 5pm by now). We also took some pretty awesome photos of the sunset.
We headed back in the growing darkness, and went up to get ready for our dinner out. We met the Rackers downstairs, and someone was buying drinks. I had a vodka, and Christian had a gin. I finished the vodka, but Christian really didn't finish the gin. We trooped back out to the coach and made our way through the city to the restaurant, El Principal. It had a lovely open courtyard, where we had drinks and nibbles, before moving inside to the dining room. We were on circular tables, and we had Steve, Kathrine, and Arrian on our table. It was a tasty dinner, and lots of fun, but wasn't a patch on the tapas meal in Malta. The speeches were much more concise, which was a small mercy. I was ready for bed at this point.
We filed back out to the coach, and headed to the beach, to the Opium club, after doing a circuit of the block looking for somewhere to stop among the hordes of people and taxis. We had our own section outdoors, but were surrounded by hundreds of punters. It was fairly laid back, though, and we had the makings of many cocktails involving vodka - quite a good arrangement, really, though the vodka seemed to disappear very quickly. This woke me up temporarily. I spoke to Paul, and Christian did the rounds, chatting and taking photos. We decided to go back to the hotel in a taxi, with Steve and Kathrine, at about 1am. By the time we got back to the room, I was so tired that I was randomly in tears. Much sleep was needed, and had.
But get up we did, packed up very quickly, and got on the road to Gatwick. We arranged for the valet parking, did the compulsory two takes at finding the right place to leave the car, and waited for someone to arrive. Someone told us that we needed to go up the end, and so we did, finding the right person. That person proceeded to take many photos from many angles, apparently to prove that there was no damage prior to drop-off that could later be blamed on them. Anyway, it was a faff, and it was cold. We finally got inside, and went straight to the check-in counter, where we met Georgia. We checked in with no problems, and went straight through security. We were a little early at this stage.
We went to the same place for breakfast that we'd been on the way to Malta, and ordered some tasty food. Just before it arrived, I asked how much time we actually had to eat. After a slight panic, the food arrived quickly, and we inhaled it as best we could (I left a second cup of tea in the pot :-() and we made our way to the gate as the messages were saying that the flight was boarding. It wasn't of course, which made me mad, but we met up with the other Rackers, and particularly the lovely Steve and Kathrine. There were a few people I knew from Malta, but a lot of new faces, which was nice.
We boarded the Monarch flight, and I noted how little leg room there was. My knees were brushing the seat in front - I could only imagine how it was for tall people, though Christian didn't seem to mind. We had a small panic about where Christian's jacket was, but I remembered that he'd had it on when boarding, and hoped it was in the overhead locker (it was). The flight was comfortable enough, though I wasn't terribly impressed with Monarch - yes, they're a budget airline, but it all seemed slightly dodgy. I discovered that there was something stuck in my iPod's headphone jack, and so listened to music that was slightly skewed to the right. Christian pointed out snow-covered alps as we went over them. I ended up going to sleep near the end, as I didn't remember hearing about half of the album I was listening to. It was only an hour-and-a-half flight.
We landed in Barcelona without fuss, disembarked, and flashed our passports. The airport was big, shiny, and quite tropical looking. The Rackers all congregated just near the doors, while we were counted, and moved out to the coach. Again, it was a huge coach for not many people, but welcome all the same. It became clear that we actually had a tour guide this time (Beatrice?), and she arranged handing out of bottles of water, and gave us a spiel as we drove through the city. There was interesting architecture, notably an awesome red swirly building that I'd seen from the air. In the centre of the city, the architecture was graceful and Venetian in style. Everything was clean and well-maintained.
We went the long way around the block to get to the hotel, and our luggage was removed from the coach and taken up to our rooms for us. We, meanwhile, we taken to a dedicated Rackspace check-in desk, where we were given our room keys on big red tassles. The foyer and bar and function rooms downstairs were lavishly decorated. Unsurprising given the El Palace hotel used to be the Ritz. We were then taken to a room and fed canapes and bubbly. Amazing. Christian and I spent time with Steve and Kathrine.
We tore ourselves away, and went upstairs - it wasn't even lunch time at this stage. The room was huge, and lovely, with a chandelier, a balcony onto the street, a bed made up of two of the biggest single beds I'd ever seen, a TV pretending to be a mirror, and a bathroom with huge shower (with rainforest nozzle), bath, and his-and-hers basins. As we were exhausted, we had two or three hours sleep, which obviously wasn't enough, or even very satisfying. We made ourselves go out to see a bit of the city. We only had a vague plan, which involved food, and so decided to move in the direction of the harbour. We saw what there was to see, including an ATM with the numbers the wrong way around, and found ourselves on a harbour boardwalk, and decided to get some tapas (it was about 5pm by now). We also took some pretty awesome photos of the sunset.
We headed back in the growing darkness, and went up to get ready for our dinner out. We met the Rackers downstairs, and someone was buying drinks. I had a vodka, and Christian had a gin. I finished the vodka, but Christian really didn't finish the gin. We trooped back out to the coach and made our way through the city to the restaurant, El Principal. It had a lovely open courtyard, where we had drinks and nibbles, before moving inside to the dining room. We were on circular tables, and we had Steve, Kathrine, and Arrian on our table. It was a tasty dinner, and lots of fun, but wasn't a patch on the tapas meal in Malta. The speeches were much more concise, which was a small mercy. I was ready for bed at this point.
We filed back out to the coach, and headed to the beach, to the Opium club, after doing a circuit of the block looking for somewhere to stop among the hordes of people and taxis. We had our own section outdoors, but were surrounded by hundreds of punters. It was fairly laid back, though, and we had the makings of many cocktails involving vodka - quite a good arrangement, really, though the vodka seemed to disappear very quickly. This woke me up temporarily. I spoke to Paul, and Christian did the rounds, chatting and taking photos. We decided to go back to the hotel in a taxi, with Steve and Kathrine, at about 1am. By the time we got back to the room, I was so tired that I was randomly in tears. Much sleep was needed, and had.
No comments:
Post a Comment