Barcelona

There's nothing not to love about Barcelona.  It's one part winding cobbles, one part friendly locals, one part bustling metropolis and one part laid-back beach.  The city feels big enough to be invisible and yet small enough to find places you want to keep on returning to, if you can find them.  

My last foray through Barcelona was fraught with too-hot-to-sleep hostels, being wracked with the no-money-blues and chasing a lovestruck friend who was chasing a rather tall, hairy Australian man through various city locales.  This time was entirely nicer--we booked ourselves into a city apartment in the Eixample District just near the Sagrada Familia, the weather was a perfect 20c and, though hairy, Paul is neither tall nor Australian.  In fact, there was no chasing, just leisurely strolling through various neighborhoods at leisurely paces.

Some highlights of day one:

The tapas bar crammed to the rafters with Spaniards and two very, very charming barmen who helped us pick every tapas dish under the sun.  We ended with honey liqueur, stumbled home and, despite our best attempts, never found the place again.  

Since we arrived into Barcelona the morning of Palm Sunday, the city was decked in various palm frond arrangements.  These weren't your average Sunday morning Catholic mass palms.  These were hybrid monsters weaved into shapes, baskets, animals and fringed in colours, bows, you name it: 

 He finally found someone with a larger head than him: