Spain Extravaganza

After avoiding any bicycle calamities until the very end (Andres flipped off during a curb-jump attempt in front of the Dylan), we are on our way to the airport for our evening flight to Barcelona. We fly Vueling, a quasi-Spanish JetBlue, and have a terrific experience on this cool and comfortable airline, including the in-flight magazine sponsored by Pacha nightclub, located on the island of Ibiza.

We land late and are famished. After dropping our bags at the Grand Hotel Central (boutique hotel, only one with a pool in or near Barri Gotic and El Born) and head to the only restaurant open at 2:00 AM on a Thursday night – what can only be described as a Spanish Denny’s. Despite the cigarette smoke and lingering grease smell, we have a pretty decent meal and bottle of Rioja, feeling like we’re truly on vacation.

The next day we meet up with my friend, Pablo, who’s been living with his wife and three kids in Barcelona since 2006. A veteran of the San Francisco restaurant industry (he co-owned Thirsty Bear in SOMA and then opened Pinxto’s in the Mission), he and Emma moved back to Spain and started an apartment rental agency, which is now booming, with offices spread throughout Spain as well as Buenos Aires and Lisbon. Pablo takes us to his ultimate tapas bar, Paco Meralgo. This unassuming joint in Eixample serves some of the finest food we have the entire trip.

The beef carpaccio on thin wafers of toasted bread is divine, as are the baby clams and croqueteas, lightly fried dumplings of whipped potato, cheese and ham. Paired with a bottle of Muga Blanco, this is an ideal entry into the gastronomy of Spain.

We whirl around town like locals, stopping at Pablo’s favorite wine shop for some samples of the latest and greatest, then stop in on his choice bar in El Born where we sip rosé al fresco in front of the church of Santa Maria del Mar. We run into more old friends from San Francisco who have since moved to Barcelona, including Robby who owns two popular restaurants. We relax at his latest, La Luna, with vaulted stone ceilings and sexy vibe and drink Veuve ‘til the wee hours (he scorns cava). It is a devine time. The rest of the details are hazy, but suffice it to say we are back at the hotel and packing at 4:00 AM, dreading our 7:00 AM departure. We are now officially on Spain time, eating late, drinking even later and looking forward to our next siesta.