and it was feckin deeeeeadly! Naturally! Now I say Hurricane Tracy and Shona (Hurricane Shracy / Trona?) not only because they hit the town with such gusto, but because of all that wind frenzy that was whipped up on Saturday morning. My dad rang me to tell me it was the main story on BBC, that ten people had been killed and that there was an official warning to stay indoors…
So with that in mind, off we trotted down the Raval, on a reconnaissance catch-up mission over focaccia, coffee and later drinks. And catch up, we did, be-jaysus!
Coffee and focaccias courtesy of Buenas Migas in the Raval. Om nom nom!
Cava for three in H Original
A Whiskey Sour in Betty Ford‘s for Shona
Later, La Fianna and Razzmatazz . Cos I got laid off on Friday (what? there’s a recession?), the girls were total legends and treated me to a Saturday night on the town for very little money indeed. Legends.
After forcing a jaegerbomb down the gullet in La Fianna (purely for waking up purposes right?), we grabbed a taxi. The meter wasn’t working so I tried to blag (in Spanish) a cheap fare to the Tazz, but yer man wasn’t biting and he totally clocked me saying to the women (Shracy / Trona?) that the fare was 9.50 and that was actually the price it should be in all fairness. Turns out he had spent five years driving a black cab in London taaaaahn and had perfect English. Well, you know, a perfect cockney Spanish-accent mix! Whatever, I’ve never been any good at the aul haggling thing anyway.
Anyway, not mentioning any names (!) but the kissing quotient was ridiculously bad. One of the ladies had her face raped and the other tried to score a fella but gave up when he proceeded to talk (in all seriousness. IN A NIGHTCLUB) about China, the Chinese people and the economy. All to the soundtrack of her favourite Arctic Monkeys track. Ah here…
A Razzmatazz dancefloor favourite is Yelle, Je Veux te Voir. It may now end up on the SPIN playlist due to it’s (as always) rapturous reception. Watch this space…
In a nutshell:
Sunday was Pla and the Pipa Club (two staple favourites of mine). We did a bad thing. A Shona-instigated bad thing, but I’ve got three words for you Tracy.
The.
Perfect.
Crime.
Ruhahahahahhahaahmwaha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaa…
Monday I missed work because I was drunken eejit, I woke up at eleven with 4 missed calls, a text from my boss, and sequins from my brand new top ALL over me bed. State of me. Yeah I probably shouldn’t share that… um… (Then I actually did get sick on Tuesday. That was the pox of the call-in-sick karma totally owning my ass.)
Anyway, Monday! We were all hanging pretty badly so it was off to Pim Pam for a (well deserved?) indulgence/hangover cure – the best burgers in Barca.
Not a cathedral, nor a Gaudi-ised building, nor a tour bus was frequented. For shame. Shame on the family. Not my family. Yours TC!
