But to be fortyish was very heaven

Thanks to my brother and other convivial company, this weekend in Barcelona was an absolute belter. A visit here on the night of his 40th birthday resulted in witnessing two sets by Catalunya’s top Elvis impersonator in premature celebration of The King’s 70th anniversary, a four-mile dérive around the Eixample at 3 in the morning as we tried to find our way back to our hotel, a grazed elbow for one of our number (dodgy kerbs), and a stonking hangover the next day despite the administration of Nurofen Plus when we finally reached our destinations.

A trip to Barça would have been incomplete without a tour of Camp Nou, duly executed on the Saturday and followed by a trip up Montjuic to the Olympic pool, stadium (home to the inferior and frankly daft Espanyol), and the Poble Sec footie ground. Imbibing of cava commenced once the Paral.lel was reached, tapas and small beers added to the subdued frivolity, and then we enjoyed a further stroll along the beach and down to the Olympic port, where we saw lowlights of Villa’s defeat and joined the crowds in La Barca de Salamanca for too much food.

So, thanks to Jose and Jordi for their wonderful chaperoning, Mart, importantly, for the accommodation, Kev and Bruce for the jokes and beers, and to the CNT for not giving up the struggle.

¡Salud!