In Sant Cugat

I've arrived, and am writing this in the lobby of the Novotel at Sant Cugat on the outskirts of Barcelona. It's an attractive area, especially (despite this afternoon's rain) at this time of year with the trees in bloom.

On first impression, Barcelona was like California, bare rock under the scrubby steep hillsides, beaches (Mediterranean) lined with palm trees, enormous cacti growing on the railway cuttings. My second impression, once my bus from the airport arrived in the centre (Placa de Catalunya), was of a city like Paris, pollarded plane trees, wide boulevards, little balconies and shutters on the windows, fountains in the square. I found some lunch at a nearby restaurant, ordered lasagne, spelled correctly; it was very well presented and "hit the spot" as my Canadian friends would say. Supper was at a quiet Catallan cafe with Sha and George near their hotel. The waitress could only communicate with me in Spanish but I managed it. We enjoyed our cervezas and crispy sandwiches. I was too busy chatting to take notes on the vocabulary, a failing which I now regret.

George's hotel is posher than mine but the Novotel is good enough for me and only a three minute train ride (towards Sabadell) on the S2 line. I buy my ride from the automatic ticket dispensers, following the instructions in Catallan of course (!) We walked round the outside of the beautiful old monastery and danced on the tune-making paving stones in the playground, in the rain. The elegant street, recently paved and cobbled by this obviously prosperous municipality, glistened in the rain and were slippery underfoot. George and Sha took many photos which I'll attach here later.

I only have 2 minutes left so will pause till tomorrow. Very tired after the 20 hour journey, but very happy to be reunited with George. I need to sleep next.