10 a.m.
"Si se puede!" - overheard on our steep hike up to Parc Güell in Barcelona.
Gaudí, what have you got in store for us up there...?
1:30 p.m.
Licking my fingers at Cervecería Catalana (236 Calle Mallorca), where we're savoring a tapas sampler of fried anchovies, boiled prawns, clams with pesto, fried potato tubes stuffed with cod, and salted fried hot peppers; plus a "mallorca sausage spreadt with cheese" flauta and, as a reminder of home, a mini hot dog and mini hamburger. Muy delicioso!
3:50 p.m.
RENFE AVE train 3942, bound for Sevilla, pulls out of Barcelona Sants station exactly on time, a good start to the 5.5-hour trip. We're once again sitting across from a pair of others, like on our ride from Montpellier. Are these dudes going to be chatting so animatedly the entire way...? As long as our legs don't get entangled, it's all good.
4:30 p.m.
The digital display at the front of the train says we've hit 298 km/hr (or 185 mi/hr). Whoa.
7:50 p.m.
Now the display says it's 34 degrees Celcius (or 93 deg. F). We must be pretty far inland by now. Hey, is that Dave Matthews sitting diagonally across from us? I start humming the opening tune to "Ants Come Marching In." No reaction from the guy. Could be that (1) he really isn't Dave Matthews or (2) my humming skills suck, considering my travel companion just muttered, "Are you humming 'Eye of the Tiger'?" No, sir, I am not.
10 p.m.
In Sevilla! We're at Restaurante Cervecería Mara (7 Calle Céfiro) for a late dinner, around the corner from our hotel and across from Santa Justa station. The concierge recommended this place for seafood (pescados y mariscos) and "barrio food". 
Unlike in Barcelona, we've encountered fewer people here who speak English, including at Mara, adding to our excitement as we anticipate each course of our meal. We just finished sharing an exquisite bowl of gazpacho with tomatoes, seasoned croutons, green peppers, and eggs as fixins'. A deep sigh accompanied each deliberate spoonful. Now we're watching our waiter expertly plate a grilled fish (half for each of us) with sides of potatoes au gratin, and sauteed squash and red peppers. My heartbeat quickens...
Unlike in Barcelona, we've encountered fewer people here who speak English, including at Mara, adding to our excitement as we anticipate each course of our meal. We just finished sharing an exquisite bowl of gazpacho with tomatoes, seasoned croutons, green peppers, and eggs as fixins'. A deep sigh accompanied each deliberate spoonful. Now we're watching our waiter expertly plate a grilled fish (half for each of us) with sides of potatoes au gratin, and sauteed squash and red peppers. My heartbeat quickens...
2 comments:
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all in the eye of the tiger!
-A
mmmm- gazpacho :) -a
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