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Post departure from Barcelona

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Sunday, we had skip-the-line tickets to see the Sagrada Familia. I was hyped up, but I felt like crap; Vicki couldn’t leave the vicinity of a bathroom. So we ordered sushi rice and miso soup and stayed put. On Monday, since we had two-day passes for the Hop-On, Hop-Off bus, we that. But it was hot and the top floor of the bus didn't have any cover. The lower floor of the bus was hot and required masks. The audio was hard to hear, and we spent most of the route looking at traffic. So we did one loop (there are two) and called it. After walking Las Ramblas for about 100 yards, we headed back to the apartment for leftover rice and miso and a nap. That evening, we ventured forth for an attempt at a tasty meal. We chose a highly rated Lebanese place. We got hummus as an app/entree/hors d’oeuvre. Vicki ordered chicken kebabs. I wanted to taste everything, even though I knew my stomach wasn’t up to it, so I got the super meat platter.  I ate about two bites of each item and gave up. Frank...

Update from the sickbed

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We are both feeling better. That's the update.  Below is my clothes-drying plan. The outer shutters are to keep out the day's heat, but today, they are serving as a clothes hanger. Dan doesn't understand why I closed them, but I figure that if places at the beach don't want your towels hanging off the balcony, the people running this place don't want your underwear hanging off their shutters.  So yesterday, I went out to find yoghurt and bananas for the one who could not walk without holding onto a wall. I get it; vertigo is awful. So out I go to the Passeig de Gracia, which I apparently the uppity shopping area in Barcelona. I was surrounded (literally, as in any big city) by people, some of whom were quite glam in their barely-covered bodies. Look. I just need yoghurt. I don’t need to feel older or fatter, but thanks anyway.  I find a convenience store, figure out which thing is yoghurt, grab two sad-looking bananas, and pay the grumpy cashier. On my way back, I s...

"What a day, what a day!"

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For any of you who might have been entertained by Robert "Brother Bob" Tilton in the 1980s, you will remember that he often opened his show saying "what a day, what a day." And what a day today has been. We had such an interesting night in Saint-Cyprien. It was on a harbor and right on the Mediterranean, but the place that I chose for our stay was in the midst of a beach-front carnival (unbeknownst to me). So we got to hear music - live and dead - all night long. Dan was down and out by 9 PM (he went out for a dinner of anchovies, which he said would be worth puking up, so I'm sure that his system went into overdrive trying to process that particular ingestion), but I heard the bass until the early morning hours. We always sleep with white noise, and the bass still broke through three white noise apps turned up full blast. Can't wait to review that place. :| This morning, we headed to Barcelona. I wasn't feeling great ( still  dealing with lower GI issue...

After another shitty night...

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After another shitty night, we left Carcassonne without stepping foot in the old walled city. It hurt not to go into a place that old with that much history. But we drove away because neither of us was up to walking. [ Lemme say that driving in Carcassonne sucked big time not because the streets are small but because they are poorly marked. Is a street one-way? Who knows, because it's not marked... but there's no way in hell a car going each way could pass because there are cars parked on one side. Is a road a dead-end? Who knows? It's not marked either. That's how I lost a part of the side mirror... I was clear behind the car but not so much on the side. I, for one, was glad to leave. ] We grabbed some lunch for Vicki at a boulangerie on the way [ I hadn't eaten anything since Tuesday night so got a piece of foccacia because I thought that it might help my mood but no... ]   and headed for the coast. Saint-Cyprien, our destination, is on the Mediterranean. This was...

Sinus infection in Carcassonne

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So we spent the night at a cool place outside of Saint-Girons... not that we saw any of it, unfortunately, because Dan and I were both under the weather. We checked in at 5 PM and went to bed. But I took photos because Dan said that we should. These are all of the photos that you're gonna get because Dan was not doing his assigned task. The farm is very old - 17th century maybe? - and rests on a foundation from [I think that he said] the 3rd century. I could be very wrong, so Dan can correct me if I am.  The ceiling of our bedroom I think that our room was once part of a barn. We woke up this morning and Dan w ent back to bed. I was feeling better; Dan was feeling worse, so the host very nicely made an ap pointment for Dan to see a doctor in Saint-Girons.  The doc had the bedside manner of a turtle but seemed competent although not completely glad to see anyone. He diagnosed Dan with a sinus infection ( I could have told him that) and gave him an Rx for an antibiotic. We paid ...

To Pau and then to Saint-Girons

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On Tuesday, we drove to Pau, which is where Henry of Navarre, who would become Henry IV of France, was born. We drove back roads and lemme tell you what... The French do not give a shit about your knowing that there are turns ahead for which you need to slow down. They want you to go 50 or 30 kph through towns, but boy howdy, when you are on open road and the limit is 80 or 90 kph, you'd better be paying attention. The Pyrenees road, like all other mountain road, contain switchbacks, precipitous cliffs, small-to-no shoulders, and not a lot of room for two cars at a time. A LOT of the curves had no warning - no signs, but "slow your ass down" notices, no pictures of people lying dead on the side of the road. Those who know me know that I like to drive fast. I LOVE to drive fast. I've never had a wreck that was my fault. However, I didn't even approach the speed limit on any of the curves. They were way too tricky.  Dan made a video - and this was an easy stretch. W...