Tapas(out)

Right so Barcelona + Rach & Em = awesome.

We spent the first full day there wisely, mainly hanging out on the beach. We found these concrete seat things to lay on and lucky for us they were Right in front of a big jungle gym looking thing that was actually a big work out place on the beach. Now by work out place, I really do mean children's jungle gym that had been held captive by a number of older, very tanned gentlemen in speedos doing lunges and jumping jacks.

This treat to the sense was more then anyone could ask for, but alas we were blessed with more stimulation when one senior in a white booty short number really got into a set of chin ups. He then worked his way into hanging upside down from the chin-up bar (aka portion of monkey-bars) and attempting some sort of aerial crunch. You may think to yourself isn't that dangerous? Well don't you worry he was wearing his running shoes with large black tube socks the whole time so his feet were protected the whole time.

After I got a few work out ideas from the Jungle-stud-gym, we wandered around looking at some of the markets and kiosks and such. Got a couple cool things, you know the usual, fresh fruit, friendship bracelets, leather Austin power-ish boots.

That night our hostel was putting on a tapas and flamingo night so Em and i decided to join in this adventure. So basically us, a group of Aussie guys, a couple Aussie girls, two 'my new haircuts' from Miami, and a gangely,-fanny pack-enthusiast German were headed out to discover some Spanish classics. First stop tapas. Tapas= not enough food considering they are giving away sangria at the same time for €1 each. Good times none the less. Got chatting with a few of the other people on the adventure. Em got cornered by a man name Danny; from Germany, wore a fanny pack (we nick named him Fanny Danny). Description of this guy- he was probably originally cast to play Foggle in Superbad, but then they decided not to give him the part because he was a bit too awkward.

Next, Flamingo! Head into a small little club with a little stage. A few musicians take the stage and sit down with a singer. She starts singing, or was she just stabbed? The face she made while singing would lead you to believe the latter. Her singing however was quite good, and the guitaring and such was good. What we could not figure out was what a younger gentleman was doing on stage with them- ah I see he was resident clapper- trained for years. Well a few minutes in our worlds were rocked by the dancing. A middle aged looking woman came out on stage with what I would describe as a standard flamingo look: tight black dress with polka dots on flared skirt bottom, slicked back black hair with very important slick-to-face-curl-sideburns. She moved crazy. That's all i can say.

We moved on to an Irish pub where everyone decided it was a good idea to take a chalkboard with all the shots on it and try all of them. Em and I left there early and spent some time sitting on the side of the road. Really just getting to know ourselves a little better- soul searching if you will. The next day was spent lying face down on a grassy knol.