10,000 steps later..

Adios Barcelona! I can't believe I survived you and if you had some of the cab drivers we did, you'd say the same.  Loved every second spent in this vibrant hot crowded wonderful city..but I'm going to bitch anyway.  The Tapas tour was a wonderful experience, but not exactly what I expected. The guide, Pola, was so freakin' adorable and competent but man, what an experience.  She spoke with a thick but understandable Spanish accent and broke the ice by saying she didn't "get the humor" of the French, to which I immediately replied:  "Because you're not Jerry Lewis." The Tapas tour..wow..let me get to that in a minute.  We walked for three hours and I have over 10 thousand steps today, which is about nine thousand, eight hundred and ninety nine more than I'm used to.  I am not ashamed,,I'll even admit I needed three showers.  We stopped at a lot of buildings, where Pola pointed out architect differences between the salmon colored stones and the pink ones. It made no difference to me, but Pola, like every guide, kept talking about the Spanish Civil War and my saying  " my paternal grandfather died in that!" became THIS trip's equivalent of "mon chien et Luke."  I don't know why I'm bragging..his absence greatly affected my Dad's childhood.  There wasn't even confirmation of his actual death until I was in 11th grade, and chose the Spanish Civil War as my project.  My teacher was a crazy commie who had a book with only about 20 copies published, but he lent me his, and there I saw the name of my grandfather and confirmation of his death and his valiant fight in the Abraham Lincoln Brigade.  OK..that's enough of a history lesson(as I said to myself a dozen times today) so onto more snark.  This "tapas" tour was a walking tour..around an elfin' food market!  Look, I love all you readers who are sticking with me dearly, I really do, but I wouldn't expect any of you to accompany me to Stop n Shop when I get home so I can describe in detail the seafood, produce, and meat sections. We finally arrive for the tapas meal, and I can't believe that nobody but me is grateful for air conditioning.  And there were eleven of us..all strangers..who had to share finger food.  Like, with each other!  Everything was a fried ball or a fried cylinder and I was too hot to care. After experiencing the eating of shapes, there was more walking..in the heat..on cobblestones.  Pola saw I wasn't doing too well and so we stopped at a church.  This was my second church visit today..it's way more times than I've been inside a synagogue in at least five years. We toured a nut shop, and a candy store..and..something with oil, I think, I was too freaking hot to care.  But by the time we stopped again for more unidentifiable things, I got to know our group..three hilarious guys from the Australian Outback named Phil, Ned, and Matt and I got the ball rolling with them by bringing up Trump.  Then there were the fantastic husbands from Miami, David and Jeff, who are staying at our hotel but sailing on a different cruise line tomorrow.  The only ones we didn't get to know were the four Canadians who actually ARE going on the same ship as us, but one of them smoked so there will be limited future contact. Feel free to leave blog comments if you want..whether you're a mensa member or a mob boss, a queen of the insipid "lol" with the 50's housewife mentality who says vapid things like "I'll eat this cupcake and then nothing else for a week..LOL!" Keep reading, stay patient, and thanks for enjoying my company. Next stop:  Cannes!