We arrive at Barcelona-El Prat airport late (or early) whatever you call 230am and there is barely a soul in sight. We try to navigate our way around by speaking to the very unhelpful security guard and the one cafe worker. We are desperate for a wifi connection; unfortunately our 4G signals are totally hopeless outside of Australia!!
Does anyone out there know how needy these two tired Aussies are right now – we MUST check our latest email from our airbnb host to see if we still have a place to rest our weary heads tonight. We realise pretty quickly that speaking English is going to be no help at all in Spain. Thank the heavens Anton can speak Italian; it is extraordinary how different the response is when they think we aren’t Anglo.
Anton communicates with the cab driver and we get to our destination (well we think we have!). Our cabby stops at the end of the unlit laneway, as there are few streets that cars can drive along in the centre of Barcelona. We get ripped off by a tenner but at least we are a few steps closer to a bed. Anton holds the cab with our gear whilst I take a bolt just a couple of doors along to find our apartment.
I stand at the doorway of number 7 in a dark, quaint and narrow laneway. There is an intercom to the right of the antique, wooden door (the sort you would expect at the entrance of an ancient castle) and as I push the buzzer, I recite the Hail Mary eagerly waiting to hear Xavier’s voice confirming I’m at the correct address. As I hear his voice, I exhale my tension and he automatically unlocks the door directing me to keep hiking up the stairs until I see the number three on his door. This apartment is on the third level, not your standard third level; I burnt about 800 calories climbing up those stairs.
Xavier seemed pretty cool maybe a little precious that I’d woken him at 330am to let us in but he has an ace apartment so his attitude is irrelevant while I take in our new abode. He bails on us and we are left to hike the stairs with our two massive suitcases and the other smaller but heavy bags we have. It’s hard work for the next thirty minutes ~ think about climbing the 1000 steps in Dandenong and just how narrow they are, that’s about the distance and width we have to travel with our luggage… not once but four times. It’s too awkward to do it alone so we team up on each bag, taking us double the time. I mean what a stupid idea it would be to have an elevator in an apartment block!!
Exhausted we clock off and as the head hits the pillow we wonder how much interaction we will have with Tom over the coming weeks, he had planned to hurry off on his own tour group across Western Europe at this stage of the trip.. We easily drift off and sleep like logs. Sweet Dreams X