Day 1:

Arrive at Humberto Delgado international at 12.30pm. Grab some travel passes for 20 euros and it’s 2 metros plus a ten minute walk to Hotel Luena in Arroios. It’s hot. Walk to local cafe for mier de late and first of many pastel de natas. Walk around area and see cost of living street demonstration taking place which is an interesting tone setter. Lizzy returns home for a nap as jet lag kicks in and I head to British bar (yeah I know) in town to watch Ange’s Spurs take on Liverpool. 2-1 victory. Chat with Irishman who lives in Lisbon and works remotely, seems a content expat which is understandable. On the way back to accomodation I pick up takeaway steak and rice which leaks oil in the lift. Have to go back to clean it up. Food is only OK. Good nights sleep.

Day 2:

Early rise and its a half hour walk into town for walking tour of Lisbon centre. Feeling a million euro and not jet lagged at all. Two breakfast stops along the way. First one we get a warm milk instead of coffee and put it down to lost in translation. Tour with Portuguese girl is very good and informative. 3 hours. Stop for a shot of Ginha in Alfama at the end. On to lunch at Pateo 13. Superb cod and sardines, great service, lots of flies.

Fado museum is terrific, particularly panorama of Lisbon streetscape and Celeste Rodriguez exhibition. Bus home. Looking for something to watch on Netflix and decide on Don’t be a menace to South Central, still funny years later. Lizzy is still struggling a bit with the time zones but I head to local outdoor bar/restaurant in park called Mustarda for a beer. Look around for a cheap dinner, settle for an Italian style Salami pizza which is OK. Home for a glass of wine on the balcony and bed.

Day 3:

Rise early for day tour of Sintra and Cascais. Terrific breakfast of pastries and cod cake at Confetaria imperial, typically friendly young waiter. 5 star review on google well earned. Walk to Parque Eduardo where tour is embarking from, guide is young Bruno. Bus takes us past beautiful aqueduct. Half true story emerges of Diogo Alves who pushed 70 people to their deaths in the 1830’s whilst disguising these heinous acts as suicides. Was eventually executed, Bruno’s suggestion that the state brought back the death penalty just for him is probably a falsehood.

Arrive in Cascais after half an hour, wander around, very scenic and touristy. Continue on to Sintra with stop along the way for gorgeous coastal views, not dissimilar to east coast of Australia. Tapas for lunch in picture perfect spot away from massive throng of tourists, but still busy. Back to bus for short ride to Pinha castle. Tough walk up hill in heat only to discover we’ve missed our window to visit inside.No blame attached to Bruno who tried to hurry us along, even if a few of our fellow travellers aren’t too pleased with him. Have to be content with walk around beguiling castle. Walk back down to visit gardens. Chat with American couple on bus ride back. They’re from Charlotte so obviously I mention Mugsy Bogues.

Back in Lisbon Lizzy goes for some shopping and I walk back to Arroios sans maps. One hugely refreshing beer in Mustarda before grabbing Lizzy and back to Mustarda again for burger and beer in park. Lovely atmosphere. Then home.

Day 4:

Late-ish start, walk into town, nice pastries on Avenida Alma Reis. Catch the train out to historical Belem but the express takes us past the stop. Indecision follows but we eventually decide on walking back and are cuing at Torre de Belem by 10. One hour wait in heat probably not worth it, views from outside sufficient. Next on to Padrao dos descobrimentos to gaze on impressive stone statues chiseled into monuments facade and take an elevator to the top for great views. A bit steep at ten euros however. Walk over to Jeronimos Monastery which is the main attraction and has an enormous queue. Lizzy books instead for first thing tomorrow. Whole of Belem is absolutely rammed with tourists even this late in the season.

Tram back into town and to the Australian embassy to vote Yes! in referendum which is painless enough. El’rei Dom frango for lunch which is first taste of famous butterfly chicken in Portugal, puts its Sydney equivalent in the shade. Buy two bottles of Peri Peri sauce for future use back home. Back up ritzy Avenida Liberdade for shopping at Lacoste etc, pick up a few items ‘cos why not? First taste of street pushers promising ”charley” which will become increasingly prominent but not overbearing. Tram back to hostel. Pop out for beers by myself at Mostarda which is packed because champions league is on and Benfica is playing and they have no glasses left. Settle for Zenite bar round the corner instead which is a cozy spot with excellent service. Not out long.

Day 5

Early rise for big day ahead which is to be the last in Lisbon. Heading back to Belem armed with hard earned knowledge of where to get off the train. But first some pastries and coffee by the harbour at Casa do Sodre. Arrive at Jeronimos 45 minutes early and are fifth in queue! Ample time to start applying that sunscreen for day of pavement pounding that lies in wait. Once inside we’re treated to spellbinding views with minor crowds. Worthwhile revisit and 10 travel brownie points for Lizzy for insisting.

Then it’s a bus ride all the way across Lisbon to the aquarium. Eccentric old lady passenger charmingly calling out locations for tourists as the stops approach. Aquarium is much as I remember it from years ago, which is to say it still kicks ass. Additional visit to marine life exhibition titled One. Walk around Orient area for a spell before it’s back into town via the metro.

Share a bifana at the famous O Trevo which is outstanding and absolutely buzzing. Place organically has the kind of hard earned vibe restaurants in Sydney try to manufatcure by putting “street food” under their restaurant name. Bifana is basically pork cooked in a big steel drum in front of customers and loaded into a sandwich. Don’t skimp on the complimentary chilli oil! Walk to Martin Moniz for a visit to worlds oldest bookshop which is a bit of a letdown, quite modern inside and not at all gothic or ornate. Quick visit to church next door. Decide to take the tram ride because well, because we’re tourists which means a 40 minute wait in the hot sun. Four women behind us blatantly push in, decide to avoid conflict by keeping quiet. Finally on tram but car acciddent ahead means alternate route through heavy traffic, tram packed to heaving, decide to abandon ship before reaching destination. Find ourselves in an unfamiliar part of town. Lizzy takes the bus back but I go with the metro. Long walk back uphill plus two changes of train but still make it back to the hotel first.

Head out for a happy hour beer plus ricard at Zenite bar then back again to meet Lizzy and get ready for final night in Lisbon. Metro to Martin Moniz and walk past cover band playing Guns n Roses in front of Santa Justa lift. Walk in to Baixa Chiado and stop for drinks at a hotel bar. Head into town to find dinner but its getting late and not that much is open. Find a place which isn’t all that great and end up having one of those typical holiday arguments. Walk back to Hotel and sleep.

Day 6

Sleep late, short walk for by now familiar breakfast of coffee and Pastries. Terrific Coxinha. Check out of hotel and walk to car rental not without the tinge of apprehension that comes with anticipating driving stick in Europe on the other side of the road, but only a tinge. Long wait and its midday when we finally leave. Several nervous moments including a few stalls (it’s been a while) and general confusion. Inevitable argument follows. Finally on the open road and driving out of Lisbon on Vasco de Gama bridge, absolutely gobsmacked by the view. Adjust to driving conditions on country road to the Algarve. Stop at a roadside cafe/bar in a small town, initially for a toilet break but grab an espresso, ginha and overwrought bifana. Place is a real slice of Portuguese life. Elderly couple sitting and having soup together is particularly lovely to see. Back on the road and stop off at reccomended Aljezura beach town. Typically stunning beach, get our feet wet for a bit, take some photos and its on to Lagos.

Arrive around 6 , grab keys for apartment from real estate then drive into old town and attempt to find parking. Not likely. Uncomfortable driving in this rabbit warren. Find unlimited parking where the old town ends and the real world begins. 15 minute walk to lodgings from here but don’t think to make a note of the location. Accomodation is just the ticket, laundry included is a real boon. Short wander around looking for dinner and decide on flash looking Tasca Jota where we get an exceptional tapas style meal after African bar man squeezes us in. Pork and fig a particular highlight, bottle of the oft mentioned green wine is found, but not found wanting. Back to Casa Feliz for a good nights sleep.

Day 7

Rise early and go for a run before sun-up. Down promenade,over bridge, around docks and back again. Lagos completely deserted this early, stop for coffee when finished. Nice photo ops in empty squares. The two of us leave for Lagos walking tour with Luiso who is very informative and amusing. 2.5 hours. Next its off on boat tour of beaches and caves which is just as beautiful as I remembered. Safety precautions have put an end to jumping off the boat in the intervening years since my last visit, which is a bit of a bummer but not the end of the world. Young guide is fluent in English, French, Portuguese (obvs) and speaks some Spanish. Rock formations that look like stuff is still amusing. After I trek to the beach for long awaited swim. Majestic location and hugely rewarding.

Soon enough we’re heading out for dinner and drinks. First off to funky garden bar where friendly Saffer barman is quick to inform me of Melbourne’s superiority over Sydney. Amongst other things I ask him if local street peddlers are legit. Your guess is as good as mine he says with a shrug. We’re really not planning to delve any further. Then it’s off to Tavern Bar for a free shot which is complimentary with Luiso’s tour. We have a tentative reservation at hugely popular Costinao restaurant but after waiting for fifteen or so minutes with a growing number of speculators we accept the inevitable and mosey down to another local institution in Churqusceria for a frango in unpretentious mess hall style setting. Doesn’t dissappoint. Half fancy kicking on after dinner but Lizzy suggests otherwise and I listen to reason.

Day 8

Up before the town rises again and out for a walk which finishes up with an unplanned swim on an empty Praia de Batata beach. Superb start to the day. Lizzy is opting for a relaxing day at hostel and around town while I want to take the hire car to the town of Sagres which is the Southern most point of mainland Europe. Finding where we left the car takes some doing, eventually manage by retracing steps and asking for help from random locals. Takes about an hour. Drive is about 35 minutes and carefree.

Once in town I pay three Euro for entry to fort which is old battlement with incredible ocean views. Old men fishing off steep cliff about 50 meters high. Finish walk and then down to sublime Praia do Beliche beach with massive rock formation in water and similarly massive jellyfish washed up on shore. Grab an afternoon beer (sagres of course) in beach bar proudly exclaiming not to have any wifi reception which is pretty cool, but it’s too crowded to really enjoy. Head back shortly after.

Back in Lagos and Lizzy and I are discussing cheap dinner options with the need to conserve money rearing its unwelcome head but end up heading to Mexilhoes restaurant for prawns, tuna and green wine anyway. Great last meal in Lagos. Big day of driving tomorrow.

Day 9

An epic of sorts. Plans to be on the road by 8.30 and we’re eventually not far off. Pick up car at 8.45 and drive back down to Marina to pick up the Mrs plus baggage. Begin long haul on motorway to Coimbra for lunch with plans to drive on from to Porto from there on the more scenic back roads. Nearing the halfway point we need to add some gas to the skoda to complete the journey, unfortunately I confuse litres with Euros and overshoot by about a quarter of a tank. Make it to Coimbra around 2 with plans to visit Unesco listed university. Unfortunately it appears closed, what with it being a Sunday and all. As we stroll around an increasing number of students are gathering outside. Lunch at Portuguesa Maria is slow to arrive but eventually worth the wait. Sardines on toast, Porrtobello mushroom topped with cod and throw in some grilled shrimp for good measure. As we eat we notice more and more students filling the streets chanting, singing, drinking and collecting money. Waiter tells me it’s there annual party day that the whole city comes out to see.

Back to the car around 4 but its quickly apparent we won’t get far as we round a corner to find the streets completely packed with revellers. I flag down a cop who tells us in no uncertain terms to park up because we’re stuck there till 8 or 9 oclock! With no other choice available to us we pull over and get out. It will give me a chance to see more of the town which is picture perfect albeit overflowing with kings and queens for the day having the time of their lives. It’s all very good natured and lots of fun. Several approach and ask for a donation and are generally chuffed with 50 cents a piece. As the clock ticks past 6pm things seem to be clearing up a little. I touch base with the cop from earlier who tells me if I can get to the nearest corner he will wave me out. I give 2 students 5 euro a piece to clear a path for me and reverse out of there. Pick up Lizzy round the corner and we’re out of there. A bit of an ordeal but a highly memorable one.

Too late for back roads it’s the motorway from here on and we’re in Porto by 8.30. Great little bungalow hidden away in plain sight on a city street. Leftover prawns for dinner and crash out.

Day 10

Bit of a sleep in but still out to return car by 9am when pay parking begins. Drive to car rental isn’t exactly smooth sailing but we manage. On the whole Portuguese drivers are a good deal less aggressive than their French or Italian counterparts. Coffee and ham and cheese pastries at a nearby cafe for breakfast. Walk to metro and unfortunately waste 14 euro on travel passes which don’t suit our needs. Metro to Trinidade where we wait for an hour to get 3 day unlimited travel passes. Too late now for planned city walking tour which we re-schedule for 2.30. Set about exploring, it’s a first trip back to Porto since 2005 for me and I remember being a bit dissapointed in comparison with Lisbon. I now wonder what I was thinking because this place is absolutely majestic. Lunch at Sandes do Porto which is a tiny cafe proclaiming the best sandwiches in the city. Get the lunch special which is a spinach soup, sardine and tomato ciabatta and home made lemonade for 11 euro. Pretty damn good, I even eat the tomato!

Look at several nicely appointed deli’s whilst enquiring about wine tasting for later. Wander through town on our way to afternoon walking tour. Guide is Pedro, full of information and amusing stories about Porto’s past and present. Of course he takes us around to several of Porto’s most famous sites including the gloriously decorated Central train station. After we finish we cross Luis 1 bridge for eye popping views of the Duoro river and Porto old town. Stroll down to docks before crossing back over in late afternoon sun on the bridges lower deck. Bus ride uphill to small, unpretentious spot with friendly Porto f.c supporting bar keep. Grab a bearao and a superbock to enjoy street-side. One reccomended restaurant happens to be just around the corner and we book a table for after fado. Finally seeing fado on my third trip to Portugal is really special, will confess to having a tear in my eye during the first song.

Out to restaurant next door but we’re ignored for a while before leaving in a bit of a huff. Just as well because the menu was really expensive. Trek up the street to Ladi b for loved and feared in equal measure Frankeshina memorably described by my friend Tomas as a bogan food experiment. It’s a croque monsieur with 4 types of meat drenched in a beer sauce with an optional egg on top. Egg seems like it would be overkill so opt without. Fair to say I enjoy it more than Lizzy. Both phones are drained of battery so we need to make it back to our apartment sans google. Manage handily enough.

Day 11

Last day in Portugal and I feel like I miss the place already. Metro into town and across bridge for 6 bridge river cruise which we make in the nick of time. Fantastic views as expected. Tour comes with a free glass of port wine at nearby bar which is fine and dandy at 11am. Decide to stick to this side of town for a hot minute and make the trek uphill past world of wine exhibition and into unheralded Camellia Gardens. Unlikely to show up on any Porto tourism brochures, the main building has fallen into disrepair but a charming little park nonetheless.

Back into town for lunch at famed Bifana joint Conga which rivals Lisbon. Large bowl of fries probably not necessary but what the hell. Bus up the hill to another garden, the much bigger Parque de Sao Roque with its expansive walking trail leading down to hedge maze. From here its a 10 minute walk to FC Porto’s intimidating Estadio Dragao , consider a paid tour but settle for walking the perimeter.

Metro back to town for another stroll of Porto markets and visit to church of Saint il Defonso. Sit down in square for a superbock (no Sagres in Porto) and Bearao. Wander over to Pedros do Frango for one last butterfly chicken which is not quite as good as the 2 prior. Highlight is our seasoned waitress keeping tab of our order by writing it down on the tablecloth! Back to bungalow for stupidly early start tomorrow. Adieus Portugal, you’ve been wonderful.

Day 12

Up at sparrow’s for 5am bus to airport. Check in and in the air by 8.45. Initially worried about the brief layover between connecting flights at Madrid airport but all goes smoothly as domestic departures are leaving from the same terminal as international arrivals. Flight takes no time at all and no customs presumably because of EU. Pick up our 3 day travel passes and its on the bus and into Valencia old town.

Valentia hotel is the one we’ve splashed out on and in fairness it’s pretty damn good. We sit down for a delicious late tapas lunch at Bar Pilareta which is recommended by under utilised guide book. Lizzy is pretty wrecked so I head to local laundromat. Wander streets on the way back and grab a pizza for dinner from a kebab place which is different but not in a bad way. A deep sleep awaits.

Day 13

Sleep late as 2 weeks of hard touring and early rises take their toll. Still head down for a workout at the hotel gym but it isn’t open until 11am for some reason. Head to Mercato Valencia which is mere minutes away from the hotel but it’s closed. Turns out today is Spains national day which perhaps somewhat problematically is a celebration of the day Columbus arrived in America.

Head toward Virgen la Placa where tour is kicking off from. Guide is Maria. Offbeat and amusing, she is moving to Australia imminently and is tossing up between Sydney and Melbourne. Inside info gleamed includes rabbit and chicken paella instead of seafood. So after we’re off to highly touted El Rall for lunch, delicious. Wander round for a while pondering our next move before heading back to hotel to grab sunscreen and squeeze in a gym session! Back out for the afternoon and tossing up whether or not to pay for the guided tour of Valencia Cathedral. Eventually decide in the affirmative and it’s the right decision. Lizzy in particular loves it.

Head to questionably named Cafe Negrita (named after the square its on) for an apero of agua de Valencia, the local cocktail. Supposedly enough to knock you on your ass, in truth a bit of a dissappointment. But that’s probably a me problem. Lizzy picks el camerino, a restaurant outside of the old town for dinner. Good choice because A) it takes us to an area we wouldn’t otherwise see and B) it’s awesome. Past the beautiful but morally dubious bullring on the way there and sit down for spectacular patatas bravas, chorizo etc. as well as a jug of sangria. Back to the boudoir.

Day 14

Plans for an early start don’t quite eventuate as I’m awake between 4am and 5.30 and then back to sleep for a few hours. Head to the central mercato to wander around, a feast for the eyes and tastebuds too if you wish. Grab some delicious olives, octopus and chorizo to eat and walk with. Visit underground city of L’almolina which is fascinating and beautifully preserved. Skip the cathedral as it’s mid mass with plans to head back later. Onto city fortress at edge of town for an upstairs trek and panoramic views.

Back to Valentia to change for beach. Head out on my own walking along picturesque dry riverbed. Metro out to long wide Malvarossa beach with its flat, almost warm water. Stay for an hour or so. Reminded of humerus habit Indian hawkers have of operatically singing there offering. Realise i’m hungry and find what looks like a good bocadilla shop which is closed and have to settle for a bad bocadilla shop which is open. Sandwich has everything in it but the kitchen sink yet sometimes quality trumps quantity. Have a bit of trouble finding metro back into town but figure it out after wandering up and down both sides of the street.

Lizzy and I talk ourselves out of going to flamenco but we’re pretty beat. Head out to sports bar instead to watch Socceroos v England (0-1) . Buy a couple of expensive drinks and head back with another takeaway pizza.

Day 15

Early-ish start today as we have 11am train to Barcelona. Get down to markets for a final stroll, grab some empanadas for the train ride and sit down for some horcheta which is excellent and fartons which isn’t. Service leaves a bit to be desired as well. Back up to finish packing and its goodbye Valencia (and Valentia) and we’re off. Older Spanish gent helps us involuntarily with directions on the bus. Wait for departure on train for over an hour because the driver has apparently fallen sick at the wheel and cried off. Sounds dubious, but once we set off its all smooth sailing. 3 hours fly by.

Metro to passeig de graca and 10 minute walk to hotel with luggage to hotel Vinoteka . Lobby and lounge are very plush, rooms pretty decent too. However we were under the impression we’d get a balcony room and we don’t. Back down to reception to enquire and its all fixed with minimum fuss. A complimentary glass of wine has never been sniffed at, not by me anyway. Head out to get some dinner but it’s 6pm and the best places aren’t open yet. Settle for post modern looking hotel restaurant which isn’t up to much. I try the steak tartare which is at least interesting.

Stop at local bar on the way back for a pint of Estrella at the princely sum of six euros fifty. Head out a little later to try and catch some rugby as the world cup is in full swing. All Irish pubs are full to overflowing as the men in green are facing the all blacks. Wander back to hotel and get some shut eye.

Day 16

We have the walking tour booked at 11. We have paid for 4 breakfasts at hotel over the course of the stay and its decent enough. Croissants, jamon, juice, coffee etc. Start walking toward Sagrada Familia for tour but its overcast and raining, decide to postpone until tomorrow. After a fair bit of contemplation and moderate soul-searching we decide to head to Casa Mila, the house that Gaudi built. At 25 euros a head its badly overpriced and the cueing system is a bit of a joke, but its still a good visit offering tremendous rooftop views from a gothic maze. There are several other buildings in the modernista style nearby but all are priced accordingly so views from outside will have to suffice.

Lizzy retires for a few hours while I go on a personal walking tour of the Gothic quarter and La Rambla. Much to ogle. Lizzy books a dinner in Barceloneta backstreets which looks a treat but is in fact a big letdown. Can Ramonets waiters push an eye-wateringly expensive entree on us which barely touches the sides. The recommended Fiduea is a piss poor imitation of the one I made at home a few months back and the waiter doesn’t bring the accompanying garlic sauce until we’re all but finished. He makes sure to tell us that gratuities are not included in the bill though. I take the unprecedented step of putting a bad review on google. In to bed feeling equal parts weary and annoyed.

Day 17

So its the walking tour re-booked for today, but first off to famed market La Boqueria off La Rambla. Once there we sit down at a bar for coffees and morcilla with chickpea. Waiters laugh at my pronunciation which good fun. Grab some walking around snacks which are unneccesary. Less gobsmacked by these markets than I was nearly 20 years ago, I guess I’ve grown used to this kind of thing. Off to Sagrada again for walking tour but only 5 people show up and our French guide pulls the pin. However after the others leave she takes us for a free of charge half hour outside tour of the iconic building which is very generous and interesting. We tip her and her Italian friend 20 euros, perhaps a little generous but there you go. Plenty of nearby suggestions are forthcoming including a stop at nearby Cafe Bristol for a cake.

Take in a couple of local less heralded examples of gothic architecture. Walk into town for an audio guide tour of stunning Barcelona Cathedral and its 12 swans. Lizzy off to do some afternoon shopping. I walk slowly back to hotel via Bar Australia in the hope of catching some cricket only to find out that Bar Australia is neither Australian nor really even a bar. No biggie.

Dinner for the night was suggested by Italian guide this morning. Il Puertocilllo is a seafood joint where you select fresh produce from a fish market like display to be prepared then and there. A while later a number is called out and you go and grab your feast. Great innovation. Among other things we get the lobster and crab. Superb meal. Back to hotel via subway.

Day 18

Morning bus ride out to foot of Montjuic and its 1992 Olympic village surrounds. Walk up vast set of stairs to Placa de Josep Fuig art gallery. Ponder the customary steep admission fee before frugality wins out and we settle for great views of the city from outside. Walk to nearby Botanic Gardens for scenic stroll of through lush area. Catch another bus to the Castle where we do pay the entry fee for a roam of the grounds housing an impressive underground light exhibition and some interesting concept art. On the bus back down I spot the Olympic Picornell pool, the inspiration of a childhood handball game between my sister and I, which is about as odd as it probably sounds.

At the foot of the mountain its another bus on to the famed Parc Guell, or at least the nearby suburb of Vallcarca. This is of note because A) Vallcarca has grafitti displaying aggressively anti tourist sentiment and B) Its still a 15 minute walk up an absurdly steep hill from here. Once we reach the summit we’re met with the crushing news that the site is fully booked for the day. Someone might have said it would be fine and that we wouldn’t need a booking. This shall never be spoken of again. Getting pretty ravenous by now so back downhill to bodega La Riera which is unpretentious and has the feel of a locals favourite. Grab traditional Jamon and tomato on toast with chickpea. Good choice for an unfussy and inexpensive lunch.

Mrs is pretty buggered by now so back to the hotel where she takes a nap. I book dinner round the corner at Los Tortillez and take my book downstairs to the hotel wine bar. Enjoy a couple of glasses of Sauvignon whilst reading Shadow of the Wind which is nothing if not topical. Dinner at 8, Tortillez only has seating at the bar which is fine by me. Catalan tortillas are made of potato and wrapped around there fillings before being oven baked. We can’t resist the Cayetana tortillez featuring truffle, goats cheese, caramelised onions and of course jamon. Delicious, and another terrific cultural oddity discovered. 1 minute walk back to hotel and bed. The end is nearing.

Day 19

Barcelona’s less famous and less tourist driven market is Mercat de San Antoni. We head there early on with plans for a champaigne breakfast on this our last full day in Europe. Wander around market which is far less eye popping than its La Rambla based peer but still has plenty to offer. Settle on Casa Blanca cafe which has a promising menu but questionable reviews. I always take these things with a grain of salt anyway and I’m largely vindicated by the quality of the meal. I get a Catalan style steak and locally brewed craft beer. We sit next to an Asian-Canadian couple similarly coming to the end of there holiday and have a great old chat. We suggest Puertocillo to them for dinner and they in turn offer gothic quarter tapas Bar Del Pla. They suggest booking is a must. We do so.

Have planned a final day apart. Me sunning it on La Barceloneta beach, Lizzy shopping. At some point the previous day I had decided that I had spent enough time traipsing around tourist attractions on this holiday. I walk to the beach which takes around 45 minutes and stay until late afternoon. With its flat surface and lukewarm water, Coogee it aint. However theres a good day to be had kicking back and cooling off. The other main difference to most Aussie beaches is the amount skin on show, much of it belonging to middle aged men. I’m a big believer of when in Rome, but it has its limits. On the way back I stop for a beer at a cafe and stumble across a tiny Restaurant I had read about in an article on hidden gems in Barcelona. Described as a dinery so secret it doesn’t even have a sign I’m chuffed to have found it. Dinner is already sorted for this evening but I make a mental note of trying to get back here tomorrow for an early lunch before the flight.

Back to hotel to shower and change and pick up Elizabeth before subway back into town. Bar Del Pla is absolutely heaving including numerous punters with no reservations being turned away. Smugly we make our way to our seats at the bar. Opt for organic wine which is interesting and an array of small plates which are great. Fitting last dinner out. Previously floated idea for a last night out on the town doesn’t eventuate which is probably just as well. Flying home tomorrow arvo.

Day 20

What a difference the internet has made. When I first got to Europe some 18 years ago it existed of course but we didn’t walk around with it in our pockets, and we didn’t understand how to benefit from it the way we do now. Hence a fair few dodgy meals in tourist traps. Now with a bit of research you are afforded the best your destination of choice has to offer. The flow on is that smaller businesses that might otherwise go unnoticed are given a different level of exposure. Whether or not they yearn for the good old days is a question for another day.

Back to hotel via beach and El Raval to finalise checkout and head to airport where the lounge we’ve booked awaits. Something of an indulgence perhaps but a game changer in terms of taking the sting out of long haul travel. We have come full circle and home beckons. It seems not that long ago that we touched down in Lisbon and got our 5 day travel passes. Were we ever so young?