Day 1 – Espan Y’all – Cargill Travel Blog

Well here we go again. The awesome foursome back on the road.

The kids are excited, and Lisa has no clue what to expect. Alas, there will be no visit to Camp Nou, since no one gives a flying fuck about football except yours truly. Btw that’s likely to be the first of yhe F-bombs – now that the kids are not kids I am free to swear for maximum effect. I’ll try not to overdo it, promise 😉.

The travelling starts at 8am, laters cats. They don’t care.

Flight is from Gatwick, 13:00. We’re flying with Vueling. We arrive at “Gatwick Holiday Parking” in good time. It’s pretty empty, and soon enough we’re on the bus to the South Terminal.

A little paranoia sets in – am I sure it’s the South Terminal? Bus stops at North Terminal first and we’ve flown from here lots so why wouldn’t we be going from here? Some frantic googling while still on the bus and my fears are allayed, South it is. I talk to bus driver and he says this is where we get the bus back to car park from, which is not what the guy at car park reception told us, he said we need to get from North Terminal but that was wrong advice. Thanks bus driver. Into the Terminal and straight thru to security. Els takes all her metal off which takes a good 5 mins. At the scanners we’re split into different queues; I get frisked, including a micro-touch of my wiener 😯, Lisa gets frisked (not sure if she’s micro-touched on the twot), Lizzie has a little agg from a passive-aggressive about some oil that she’s packed but turns out to be fine, Els gets her 150ml bottle of Cera Ve taken away by a friendly giant of a man. But ultimately we’re thru and that’s all that counts. About 4 Border force swarm some guy, and they have a cosy chat. He must have tried to smuggle a 200ml bottle of Cera Ve.

Thru Duty Free, grab some free smelly (Ralf Lauren), then brekky in The Smokehouse. £67 later 😬 we’re in Boots looking for Cera Ve replacement.

Have to buy Lisa a book on the Kindle. Horror genre of course. Then there’s a little waiting around. Using my techno-geekery I get us at the gate before everyone else – smug alert. This means prime seats in the departure lounge and among the first on the plane 😀. Just one big American dickhead decides he wants to barge past, Els raises her eyebrows and utters “Really?”. What a Gatprick. Bags quickly stowed and we can chill. It’s looking like there’s a spare seat in my row. Hang on…second to last person on the plane is taking it, damn. The guy looks stressed and uncoordinated as he stumbles into his window seat.

I learn from the safety briefing that it’s not pronounced view-ling but vwelling. Up up and away by 13:20. It’s a 1h40 flight, not too long. Good, because guy in middle seat has commandeered the arm rest and like Putin he wants more territory.

I start to wonder about the 2 Star hotel I’ve booked and pray for a clean, air-conditioned space. Lisa’s already imagining a free glass of champers when we arrive – the Prague trip has built up expectation, shit. I somehow doubt this will be the reality…

When we get to Barca we’ll be getting the metro. Two lines. I’ve done a bit of homework on this. Bought “Hola Barcelona” 96hr tickets in advance to save 10%. However, the website was not user friendly and first two attempts on mobile didn’t seem to go through but doing on laptop it did. Look at credit card and I have all three purchases pending 😐. The email confirmations of the two mobile purchases look different so I’m hopeful they’ll get wiped, FFS.

The flight has gone well, Lizzie slept most of it. The bloke next to me was on his laptop a fair bit, at times his arms were arranged so that his elbow came into contact with my gut. At times I tickle his arms with my arm hairs to re-establish territorial boundaries. At the end of the flight, at the bit when everyone jumps up too soon, some guy at the front of plane is pissed off because his case is at the back and everyone is now getting in his way. “Nobody listens guys” he says over and over as he fights his way back. Whatever man, you should have been ready. He’s a bit more contrite on journey back to the front with his case, because he needs to ask us all politely to let him pass. That’s it, chill out prick-features.

Off the plane, thru passport control in like 5 mins, then onwards to the metro. Pick up tickets (£104 for the four of us for four days) and find the platform real easy. First train to Torrassa is a doddle. Quiet and spacious. Then at Torrassa we switch lines by going up about 5 escalators to another platform, next train is busier but fine. We reach our stop, and after some stairs a french lady asks us which way to the airport. I think we manage to tell her to go to Torrassa and change. She goes in the right direction.

Out onto the streets, I nearly step in a fresh giant dog turd and also narrowly escape dragging Lisa’s suitcase wheels through it too.

Hotel Constanza is definitely better than two stars btw. Our room has a nice balcony with table and chairs on the quiet side, girls one is smaller on street side but their bedroom is slightly bigger. Rooms are modern, clean. Lisa is happy, thank the lord.

At about 18:30 the girls message that they’re hungry. We go out and pound the streets a little, then find a good spot with a choice of Japanese/Korean or Italian. We opt for Luigi’s. Plenty of vegan options for this lactose boy, and lots of choice for others. Even get some free cake at the end. It’s cheaper than breakfast even with beers plus 10€ tip.