On the Costa Dorada for St. Patrick's Day

(more pics - of Barcelona)
(more pics - of Sitges)
(more pics - of Tarragona)

After partying in the castle for a weekend it just seemed too much of a shock to go directly home so I flew off to Barcelona with my mother and my dear friend Derrick. The expedition was partially prompted by Derrick's obsession with visiting every country in the world. He's at 52 countries now. My mother's new husband is at 53. However, he is seven years older than Derrick so the contest is pretty close.

Actually, Derrick had already been to Spain, but Barca had the best connections when we looked at our return flights from Belfast and my mother had never been there. We stayed in the town of Sitges, about half an hour south of Barcelona. It's a bustling gay resort during the summer. In March, it was pretty quiet. Our hotel was La Villa Santa Maria which a friend had recommended. It is a nice little place right on the beach. We watched surfers from our own little balcony and befriended the waiters in the hotel restaurant.

We only spent one day in Barcelona itself, and most of that day was taken up running up and down the spiral stairs of the Sagrada Familia. Damn, that place is cool. I was glad we were there in low season though. I think it would be hell to be jammed up in those tiny staircases with throngs of sweaty tourists in the summer Spanish heat.

On my actual birthday we went south to the town of Tarragona and wandered around some Roman ruins. I was a bit braindead that day. I've known Derrick since we were thirteen and we meet up every couple of years. My mother took one room in the Santa Maria and Derrick and I shared another. A side effect of this arrangement was that Derrick and I stayed up late every night chatting in the dark.

I'd just like to say what a fan I am of Mediterranean shutters. They're great. They block out the sun when they're closed. They let the sun in when they're open. They make a satisfying clunking sound when you close them. They let you sleep in in the mornings. Shutters rule!

Anyway, we'd stayed up too late the night before and I'd had too much Cava and so I spent my birthday staggering around Roman ruins ruminating on how they were just not designed to have many comfortable napping places. Actually, when you think about it, ruins aren't really designed much at all. They just happen.

Much like turning 40 -- it just happens. I just happen to be 40 now. I don't mind that much. I'd like to have my twenty year old knees back. But that's about my only complaint.