From Fun to Flu

Castelldefels by quiet night

Castelldefels has a hint of the Queensland Gold Coast about it which is why I think I liked it so much. Stunning expanse of sandy beach, fabulous restaurants and cafes, and a hop, skip and a jump from Barcelona - oh, wait - maybe not that last one.

Paella anyone?

It was fun to hang out with the fluffy one’s nieces and nephew - and of course the accompanying husband and children. The best part was being able to park along the beach front and eat gorgeous seafood. The worst part was the Saturday night revellers outside our van tooting and arguing between 2 and 4 in the morning. Oh well, can’t have everything.

Giant chairs R Us

The fluffy one has had little/no interaction with children so I was alarmed when I saw him accept the olive his 4 year old great nephew handed him and place it in his mouth. The child had been rolling it around in his boogie-covered hand and, sweet as it was to be offered this delicacy, there’s is no way on earth it would have come anywhere near my face let alone end up in my mouth. Needless to say, two days later the fluffy one awoke with a severe case of man flu. He won’t be accepting boogie encrusted olives from well-meaning youngsters again.
He has soldiered on and drove to a winery in the mountains, Celler Masroig, which allows motorhome to stay. He slept after arrival as I stocked up on wine, olives (clean ones) and tapenade from the cellar shop. I had to resort to wine from the box last night as he wasn’t up for much more than a whisky and lemon juice so I’ve saved the posh stuff for when we can both share a glass.

View from the winery

Today we’ve ended up by the river in Deltebre, the rice field area south of Tarragona. The wind is coming up and it’s a little rainy so we’re tucked up in Dickie, Mr Fluffy feeling sorry for himself with his man flu and me playing mindless games of Candy Crush on the iPad. I think I’ll get out the jigsaw.
Tomorrow, who knows.

Freak Out Flamenco

As we sit at the beach south of Barcelona the temperature is around 17 degrees. The locals are walking past in their puffer jackets and scarves while I am sporting a boob tube and hot pants and Mr Fluffy is showing off his budgie smugglers and magnificent chest. Not really but you get the picture.

‘What’s that Hugo? No more singing???’

Our tally of how many Paellas one can eat on a holiday in Spain is swiftly reaching double figures as we had the best one yet at Chinguito Manolo at the Port of Ginestra in Sitges. There’s nothing better than sitting in the sun eating seafood and drinking cold beer, that is until the amplified Spanish guitarist and accompanying flamenco singer start playing and Hugo has a fit of shivering terror. We had to leave before he turned himself inside out with fear. Party pooper! They were actually very good despite the fact that she sounded like she was having her heart ripped out with the sorrow of a lost love.

Hugo quite keen on this meaty market

Bread the old fashioned way

Yesterday we had a taste of the medieval winter market in Castelldefels and checked out the fluffy one’s niece’s new bar. Sonia opened ‘Kohsi’ four months ago in the town centre. The garden out the back is particularly fabulous in this sunny weather. We’ll meet Sonia and her brother Berend and sister Monique tomorrow night at Sonia’s other bar ’Takua’ which is closer to the beach.
We can only hope there won’t be a flamenco singer to freak Hugo out again.