The Week, in Brief

Sometimes it seems the kids are out of school more than they are in.  Last Friday, and this Monday, the kids were home because of parent/teacher conferences.  We had ours on Friday, and I have to say that the best thing we heard about both C.C. and Milo is that they are super-curious and love to learn.  Both are doing really well in school and love it.  C.C. was actually at her conference, presenting her own work, and sat up so straight and proud.  I am finding it hard to put into words how much love and wonder I felt, watching my girl turn into her own unique person right there before my eyes.

So Monday was not a day off for anybody else, which meant that Alec needed to go to work.  Which meant that I had the kids.  Milo got invited to spend most of the day at Peter’s house, so C.C., Ann and I made it a girls’ day in the Barri Gotic.  I made sure to pack C.C.’s book, and to start off at PapaBubble, a century-old candy shop in the eastern part of the old city.  It’s a small, beautiful, light-filled old shop.  When we walked in, two workers were busy forming candy from ropes of molten, colored sugar.  They pulled and rolled and twisted, handing each of us a small warm piece that melted, sweet-sour, on our tongues.  In the background, enormous metal pots bubbled on an industrial stove.  C.C., enthralled, could not tear herself away from the counter.  I love these old shops where people make the same things, with the same recipes, that they have been making for decades.  The work, which could be conceived of as tedious, has been elevated to a craft.  We bought small sacks of brightly colored sweets and went on our way.

We wound our way west through the serpentine streets—I still need a map—until we got to the cathedral.  Then we made our way to the Carrer Petrixol, home to two ancient granjas that specialize in chocolate and churros.  The first had already run out of churros, so we continued to the second, which had just sold its last order.  It was about 12:40, and the granjas close at 1 pm.  They would never sell a day-old churro; we were too late—I should have known better.  I had promised C.C. a rest and a treat, so I ordered her a cup of the warm, pudding-like chocolate and a croissant.

I had been wanting to try Dos Palillos, the restaurant in the Camper Hotel that sells Asian inspired tapas.  We crossed the Rambla to the Raval and learned that Dos Palillos is closed on Mondays.  Next time, I guess.  By this time we were hungry and in need of a rest, so I led the way to my old standby, Tapas 24.  C.C. pulled out Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator—I ordered her a mango smoothie and some croquettes—while Ann and I perused the menu.  I can never resist the Bikini Comerc 24 and the Korean chicken wings, and the Tomato Bread is de rigeur.  Ann wanted the lamb skewer, and we got some vegetables in vinaigrette in order to have something green on the table.  Once the food came, Ann’s stomach had decided it didn’t feel like eating much, so I took a deep breath and dove in.  I must say I did a pretty good job of finishing off most of the food.  C.C. and I had to get home to get Milo from Peter’s, so we dropped Ann at the Casa Battlo and got on the train.

We brought Peter back to our house to give his parents a bit of peace and quiet.  I brought them to the park to shoot baskets to blow off some steam and then set them up with the Balto video and bowls of popcorn.

After a long day of work on Tuesday, during which Ann took the double decker bus tour, we spent yesterday in Sitges.  It is only about a half hour’s drive from Barcelona, and lovely, and I cannot believe this was only my second day there.  We walked along the beach and then around the old city, popping into shops and continuing to catch up on the past seven months.  I am not much of a phone person, so while I really like feeling connected to my friends and family, I just don’t gravitate toward the phone.  I do much better in person.

We ate a long, lovely lunch in the sun at Fragata.  I had a wonderfully fresh tuna tartare and then sautéed mushrooms, while Ann had a tomato and mozzarella salad followed by a puff pastry with eggplant and goat cheese.  We shared a cheesecake swimming in fresh berry compote for dessert.

A couple of years ago, Ann sent me a postcard with a drawing of two women sitting at a café table drinking cava.  “Barcelona” is written on a wall in the background.  The women look happy.  I tacked that postcard to a bulletin board right next to my desk in my New York City office, as a reminder that one day I would be there—here—in Barcelona, enjoying myself.  Sitting their with our glasses of cava, in the sun, connecting only as old friends can, I really felt as if I had been transported into that postcard, living the dream.