29 July – 1 August 2019

Having been through Paris, we were wary of Barcelona. It was a city which had so much history for us, so many awesome memories. It had been Liz’s home; of all the cities in the world, the venue for her 40th birthday party. It was here that, 3 years ago, we had concocted the vision for what we were doing today. 

And yet, so many of the things we loved about this place were a long way from ‘kid friendly’ (late night tapas and champagne anyone?). Would we have a chance to retrace some of our steps from 20 years (or even 3 years) ago, or would our memories of this beautiful, ecclectic, sometimes slightly seedy, fascinating (and not to mention tasty) city be sullied by more recent memories of trantruming children (already having Paris Les Halles flashbacks)? 

We needed to find a way to get them engaged, to make them love it, or at least to suck it up and not ruin the experience for the rest of us. 

We needed to keep it simple, focus on the good bits (but which ones???) and not overload them. We settled on 3 Catalan juggernauts – Dali, Picasso and Gaudi – and decided to over invest in Spanish food (who cares about the budget anyway?). We would teach them enough in advance so they could connect with what they were seeing, and give them enough downtime so they could appreciate late dinners and the nightlife without driving us all insane. We came up with a plan. We crossed our fingers. We prayed to whatever deity controlled Sena’s moods (fairly certain this one carried a pitch fork). And in we jumped.

We felt a buzz as we crossed the border from France to Spain. This again felt like another new beginning. Our trusty Romanian steed shuddered slightly as we almost managed to hit the speed limit (downhill and with a decent tail wind). Maybe it too was excited, maybe concerned that it was heading yet further away from the mother country. 

The first item on the itinerary was actually in Figueres, to see the Dali’s museum. The kids were briefed on surrealism, early 20th century politics, melting clocks, elephants on stilts and drawers in bodies. They remembered the elephants.

The museum was a big success. More accessible than the big Paris museums, fewer crowds and more engaging for kids. Dali’s work did not disappoint, the only thing lacking was pictures of elephants on stilts (they are all elsewhere). But there was plenty to keep us going and we actually lasted almost 2 hours around the museum without any meltdowns. Amazing. 

We ended our trip with a sketching session outside, where we all drew our best surrealist sketches… no tears or strops. We were on to a real winner here! 

From Figueres, we made our way further south to the beautiful Llafranc, past the incredible (but incredibly crowded) cliff side towns of Begur and Tamariu. Having never spent any time on the Costa Brava previously, we were floored by the Ibiza-esque cliffs and deep azure colours of the Mediterranean here. 

Llafranc is a bit quieter than the other two towns (read: you can park within 3 kilometres of the sea), has a lovely seafront, white sand and great snorkeling. We spent a great few hours in the water – after spending so much time in the pool in Tuscany, Jessie and Sena were now happily snorkeling around unassisted, marveling at all the fish life. It was a great introduction to the Spanish Mediterranean (and their shiny new Decathlon snorkels).  

From there, we made our way into Barcelona, happy to have a couple of days ‘on foot’ after driving nearly 1500 kms in the last 3 days. We stashed the car and made our way to the ‘TOC Hostel’ – keen to give the kids their first hostel experience, something that we had enjoyed so much of 20+ years ago. 

It turns out hostels have changed a fair bit. This one had a pool, a terrace, a great bar and pool table (that actually worked), a basically commercial kitchen at our disposal and fastest wifi we’ve seen. It appears that Gen Z have a higher set of standards than we had! Needless to say, we were OK with it. 

This was hostelling the way it should be done and we leant into it, justifying our presence by the fact that, if you worked on the law of averages across our family of 5, we were bang on the right age bracket for the place. We hit the kitchen, carefully labelled our stuff and put them in the communal fridge (this simple act took us back 25 years, to an age where the fridges were no where near as clean and we were backpacking around Europe for the first time). 

We explored the communal areas, regaling (read: boring) the kids with much inflated stories of long days and nights meeting and deeply connecting with like minded travelers from around the world, and thereby expanding our minds and broadening our horizons (read: getting drunk with other – frequently antipodean – backpackers and exchanging almost identical travel stories). We sold them on the opportunity to do the same. They were excited. 

What we found was pretty much everyone taking advantage of the high speed internet, glued to their phones and desperately trying to video conference their way home or watch that all important dancing cat video. Well, at least the internet was fast.

Despite the late hour and unslept kids, we tore ourselves away from the dancing cat videos and hit the town, navigating through the Gothic Quarter, in search of Placa del Pi (aptly named after Sena but also the site of Liz’s birthday party). We navigated (read: stumbled blindly) through the winding alleys of the old town, everything at once confusing and familiar. 

The girls were taken with the narrowness of the streets and the incredible architecture – and the sheer vibrancy of the place. Ellie was concerned about the graffiti and the fact that so many people smoked.  Sena, after the first block, just wanted to be carried, however once on Daddy’s shoulders, she contentedly took to spotting and announcing each dog we saw (a fairly regular occurrence in Barcelona)!

We passed through Placa del Pi, stopping to enjoy the street performances there, before making our way to Placa Reial for tapas and drinks – the kids unreservedly signing off on their first taste of Catalan tapas. We made our way back home at 11ish via ice cream … with the kids acting every minute of the 3 hours past their bedtimes… we would need to work hard to get them on to Spanish time! 

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Having broken Sena and Jessie the night before, the following day was always going to be a challenge. 

Today’s main event was the Picasso museum. The kids were primed on the Blue Period, the Pink Period, Cubism and on the lookout for both birds and cubist dogs. Before we even got to the museum we had lost both Jessie and Sena (we could blame the kids, but this was down to parental user error… a late night followed by a 20 minute walk in the mid morning heat). 

Whilst we (including Ellie) loved the museum, it must be said that Sena and Jess didn’t get the most out of it, spending most of their time collapsed in corners; Jessie pulling it together at the end for a spot of birdy (in the Pigeons) and dog spotting (in Las Meninas). 

It wasn’t until we got them into a nearby champaneria and revived them with tapas (and us with cava) that we got them back. 

From there we coaxed and carried them towards home, stopping briefly for the legendary hot chocolate and xuros at Cafe de l’Opera before spending the afternoon by the pool, doing homework (strangely to the kids delight), playing pool and a well earned (and compulsory) afternoon nap. 

That night, we introduced the girls to their first proper paella. It was a huge success. Armed with sketch books and playing cards we hit the high recommended restaurant at 8.30pm (yes, 8.30pm for dinner!) and bravely ordered a bottle of wine. We had some beautiful tapas to warm up then hit the main even, which rapidly descended into a scramble to see who could finish their plates first and therefore be entitled to seconds, thirds and fourths. Aside from the joy at seeing them genuinely embrace the cuisine, another highlight was seeing Jessie eat, and meet, her first mussels… and proceed to clear out the entire dish, all the while showing us her ‘guns’. 

Day 3 dawned, the theme was Gaudi and the kids were primed. Over dinner the previous night, we had discussed Catalan modernism, naturalist architecture, Hansel and Gretel houses, shiny chameleons, failed high roller residential developments overlooking Barcelona and cathedrals that may never be finished. We had also discussed eccentricity, lettuce and the perils of walking into and under moving trams in 1920s Barcelona. 

Learning from the mistakes of yesterday, we jumped in a cab to head to the north of the city where Parc Guell looked down upon the town and the Mediterranean beyond. 

Parc Guell – Gaudi’s (in collaboration with industrialist Eusebi Guell, who bankrolled the project) unsuccessful attempt at greenfields town planning. 

Of a planned 60 residences, only 3 were built – one was for Guell, one for Gaudi and the other for a wealthy lawyer whose family still lives there (even better today now that it doesn’t take 2 hours to get to downtown Barcelona by horse and cart) – the rest of the park was donated to the city when the project failed in the 1920s and is now a UNESCO world heritage site. 

The only way we could get in on relatively short notice was to join a tour, which we dutifully did, and spent the next hour understanding the fascinating story behind the incredible design and engineering of the Parc, and of course getting ideas to incorporate into our pending rebuild (chameleon fountain anyone?) 

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The girls loved clambering around on the viaducs, the chameleon and the Hansel and Gretal designs – however we did have to endure a few protests at the amount of walking and climbing required. We finished the trip with a picnic lunch in a nearby kids playground, voted by Jessie and Sena as the highlight of the outing. Ouch. 

After the obligatory downtime, swimming, homework and naps, we resurfaced for the evening’s entertainment. Considering it was Gaudi Day, we decided to pay the tourist tax and have dinner looking up to the Sagrada Familia, the incredible cathedral that is still being worked on after 120 years (with plans to complete in 2026, the centenary of Gaudi’s death). 

We were all blown away by the sheer scale and complexity of the building – and of course its beauty. Despite having been here several times before it is still incredibly impactful. We took the obligatory photos and sat down for dinner (more tapas and paella) with a view of the cathedral. We tried (relatively unsuccessfully) to sketch it. Too much for mere mortals unfortunately but a great way to while away the time, reflect on our visit here and enjoy another lovely Rioja. 

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Tomorrow we would leave early to head 7 hours further down the Mediterranean coast to Cartagena, in search of authentic flamenco music and dance at a festival where events *started* at 10pm. Gulp. 

Tonight we agreed that Barcelona had delivered. It was certainly different with kids but still wonderful. We know of no other city with such vibrant art, architecture, culture and food all wrapped up into one compact, cool and slightly edgy package. 

Whilst we had not even touched the sides with what we had seen this trip we hoped that we had given the kids a flavour of this, and of our love for the place. 

The conversation over dinner flowed from Dali (elephants) to Picasso (birdies) to Gaudi (lizards) to the best tapas, the best paella and the joys of the TOC hostel v the Crowne Plaza Dubai buffet to local dog spotting to not spilling your drink (again). 

These were not conversations we were having a month ago.