Ahoy! ¡Bienvenido a España!
The lead up to our trip had gone by in a flash and it was upon us before we knew it. Our flight was leaving at the very civilised time of 1pm so we had plenty of time to get ourselves organised before Toby very kindly drove us out to the airport.
As you may or may not know, I’m not the lightest packer at the best of times, though I do try I promise. Our friends Al and Michelle had gone on ahead of us and had asked us to help them out by bringing a few things to the boat they hadn’t been able to squeeze into their bags. Nothing much…just a couple of windscreens, some poufy pillows and an anchor. Just the usual. In a Schapelle-like manoeuvre, we had stashed what we could into a board bag, hoping our “oversized” package didn’t draw too much attention to us. Unlike Schapelle, we passed through customs with flying colours.
Now the last few times Ross has travelled on a long-haul flight, courtesy of his very generous employers, he has had both the privilege and the luxury of travelling Business Class. So as we cruised down the flybridge towards the aircraft, Ross gave a longing glance to the left before willing his sneaker-clad tootsies to defy his instincts and turn right, to follow the rest of the herd into their stalls. Having not ever travelled Business myself, I may have underestimated the sting. As I watched his fitful sleep in those cramped conditions later in the flight, I was sure his dreams had been punctuated by painful thoughts of his pyjama-clad comrades stretching out in their flatbed luxury.
Well, Monday continued on and on, cramming more than the designated number of hours into its normal self. Isn’t it a shame that the one time when your pleas of “I wish there were more hours in the day” are actually granted, thanks to the airline genie in the skies, and all you can do is sit restlessly in your seat shuffling through movie channels? So, after brief stopovers in Melbourne and Abu Dhabi, a little bit of shut-eye, 5 aeroplane meals that left a lot to be desired, a passenger in the row in front who spent the whole flight standing up and facing us (a little disturbing) and a harrowing movie that left me sobbing and tissue-less at 7000 feet….we touched down in Barcelona.
A quick taxi ride through this beautiful city had us reunited with our gorgeous nautical friends at the marina where we were greeted with open arms and led aboard the S.S. Pasha (actually, there is no S.S – I just added that in for fun). Ross, of course, had been lucky enough to have been part of Pasha’s epic voyage from Southampton to Spain in 2018 so had known what to expect but I was meeting Pasha for the first time. What a boat! Al and Chelle gave us the royal tour and we unpacked and settled in.
Al and Michelle had been greeted less than warmly upon their arrival to Spain when they had been the victims of a dastardly bag snatch at the airport a few days earlier. Al’s bag had contained his passport, among other things (like his iPad). What a major bummer! Shortly after we arrived, they had planned to take a train into the city to visit the Australian Embassy where they would see about getting a new passport. As we were going to leave Barcelona the next day, they hoped to expedite the process if possible. With the news broken to them that it would take FOUR days to get things processed, you can imagine their delight to find out that an honest Spaniard had found the passport, had not only taken it to the embassy they now found themselves in but had also taped it to the front door! God is good! Lots of people were praying back home and this was nothing short of a miracle. As soon as Al had walked in, the guy had recognised Al from his passport photo. So awesome!
Meanwhile back at the marina, Ross and I had taken a walk through the pretty, leafy lanes and alleyways into the village of Premià de Mar to grab a coffee and find some lunch. We hit a bit of a road block trying to request a “skim, decaf cap” and a “strong, skim piccolo” to cafe staff that had not a word of English in their arsenal. Toby came to the rescue with some text-a-friend translations but after finally managing to get our order down pat, we were reminded how atrocious Spanish coffee is (for the most part). The crusty Spanish roll with jamon and manchego on the other hand…tan delicioso!
After my quick nap to stave off the jet-lag (sorry Sam, I succumbed) Chelle, Al and his reunited passport, arrived back after lunch, just in time to go shopping for some groceries. Grocery shopping in a foreign country is SO much fun! Checking out what was on offer at the Aldi store, which is virtually adjacent to the marina – Chelle’s shopping fantasies fulfilled – we found all kinds of weird and wonderful things. There was a huge piece of seasoned raw meat we found that looked great but we just couldn’t identify from which beast it had originated (sorry Molly). I asked a couple of local shoppers, also devoid of any English capabilities, if they might translate for us. Through the universal language of mime, they put 2 fingers up to their noses and amid giggles, made loud snorting sounds. Ahhhh, pork. Thank you very much ladies. They were thrilled to have been a help and we were thrilled with our delicious looking pork piece. With 2 trollies laden with local goodies, more small goods than you could poke a stick at and enough food to feed a hungry U15s rugby team, we headed back to the marina.
This afternoon we had organised for Maria, who had been our exchange student in 2016 and whose family had hosted Tobes on his exchange to Barcelona, to come and visit us on the boat. We had a lovely afternoon sitting in the sun on the top deck, catching up on each other’s news. Michelle cooked up a scrumptious dinner which we ate as the sun set over the water.
Some things I’ve learnt today:
Nautical knots are easier to untie than to tie and I’m regretting not joining the brownies when I’d had the chance.
“Aft” is the back of the boat
A cross between a “fender” and a buffer is not a “fuffer”
Our anchor has 100m of chain that weighs 200kg
You don’t need to go to the gym when you change over a 100m anchor chain (go Rossco)
Finally, the most comforting, we are in good hands and Captain Al knows what he’s doing.
