Bye Bye Barcelona..

       Typically, on my last day in Barcelona, I woke to a deep blue sky and glorious sunshine. It has been cold and grey grumpy weather for just about the whole month I have been here, so this morning was both a joy and an irritation. Anyway we had planned a day outing to the beach for St.Patrick's Day celebrations which were again typically weird, or so I thought. Where I wonder is the connection with St. Patrick and a rowing race between three handmade boats, out on a decidedly choppy sea in  Barcelona? It's true that the commentator was actually Irish, though he was on a microphone in the roped off compound which was barely in sight of  the sea, let alone the actual race. And to do him  justice he did tell a few dreadful Irish jokes. There was Guinness on sale, just about the only drink, and there were burgers. In the end my curiosity got the better of me and I walked down to the jetty where the action was, just in time to see the next lot of three handmade boats set off for their race. The sea was so choppy that the boats kept disappearing, and I was lucky enough to witness the drama of the afternoon, when one of the boats actually capsized and a handy powerboat was called out to the rescue. It was pretty dramatic and the hapless craft was hoisted on to the powerboat and delivered safely back to rousing cheers. All great fun, but how on earth it's connected to St. Patrick beats me.
      Today Grandson was Spiderman all day - and he didn't stop running and jumping while were at the beach. Son is in London for a week so we didn't have his calming influence, but all their friends were there, and they are a lovely bunch. Most of the couples are one half English, and their children generally speak at least two languages: English/French, English/Polish, English/Spanish etc, and of course the children are going to Spanish schools and Nurseries, so they are absorbing both Spanish and Catalan at the same time. The net result of all this is that sitting on the beach is like being at a multi-lingual festival, and it's very impressive to have a 3 year old translating for you. My little Grandson regularly turns to me and says "That's Polish Nana" when he and his Mum are deep in conversation.
     I'll be leaving this perfect apartment with regret. It has been just wonderful to sit at my laptop and write in a calm and peaceful environment without distractions and interruptions. And without feeling parental, or grandparental, duties looming. I've started something, so I mean to finish.
     And now, back to packing ready for tomorrow. Bye bye Barcelona...