We were both up before the crack of dawn - the kind of early that even the roosters are still considering their options. Since sleep clearly wasn’t on the agenda, we decided to make good use of the time and go for a run. Scott stayed around Gran Via, while I headed down to the sea for some salty morning air and sunrise vibes.
By brunch time, we were more than ready to eat. We picked Bellini, just a couple of blocks away, and by 11 a.m. we were completely stuffed - in the best way possible.
Our grand plan for the day was to finally visit La Sagrada Familia, Gaudí’s world-famous cathedral. Of course, being spontaneous tourists, we hadn’t bought tickets in advance. “We’ll just grab them on the spot,” we thought. Famous last words. Turns out, no tickets are sold on-site anymore. Not a single one.
So, plan B it was - Casa Batlló. One of Gaudí’s most beautiful residential masterpieces. Funny enough, despite having been to Barcelona around 15 times over the last 20-something years, I had never actually gone inside. And wow, it did not disappoint! The flowing lines, the vibrant colors, the dreamy architecture - it was all simply stunning. We left totally impressed. And with a touristy photo of us.
On the way back to the hotel, we grabbed a few empanadas - because, well, when in Spain - and then took a well-deserved nap before dinner and the concert.
Dinner was at Angus Grill, because I had a serious craving for steak. Things started promisingly - the tartar was chunky, flavorful, and absolutely delicious. But then… halfway through Scott still working on his tartar, a young waiter appeared out of nowhere, holding our next course, the medium rare steaks in hand. “Oh, sorry, I’ll take it back to the kitchen then…” Um, sure, let’s just… cook it a bit more then? Moments later, as soon as the last bite hit Scott’s fork, another server reappeared and plopped the plates back down in front of us - slightly overdone now, but still delicious.
To release the meat coma, we decided to walk to the concert venue - and to my absolute joy, I discovered that you can actually take escalators up Montjuïc hill. No endless stairs, no sweaty misery. Just a smooth glide up to culture and entertainment.
The concert was scheduled to start at 9 p.m. By 8:58, maybe 15% of the seats in the sold-out arena were filled. Classic Spain. At 9:20, the star finally took the stage - and suddenly, everything snapped into gear. The vibe transformed instantly. The music was incredible - just as expected - and the sound in that 17,000-seat basketball arena regretfully as well.
Afterward, we walked back to the hotel under the warm night sky. The air was soft and the city was very much alive.
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