The first official week in Spain consisted of a bit of culture shock. I would be lying if I said I initially didn't want to come home. But after a few good days of cleaning and generally getting to know the neighbourhood I am currently living, in Barcelona started to grow on me. Having Chantelle here for the first two weeks I was a little worried as to how to keep her entertained. I think she may have been disappointed in our lack of enthusiasm for going out and getting wasted in one of BCN's numerous SUPER clubs? Lets just blame it on jet lag and not the fact that I am getting old. But realistically I think I will blame my low fun factor on the Chantelle, as it were her friends in London which proceeded to buy us six bottle of Champagne. Needless to say for anyone familiar with my ability to drink (slim to none) I was violently ill the next morning and that was enough to cause me to avoid drinking again for at least another week. When we first arrived the weather was amazing, you couldn't walk anywhere with out getting a shiny face and sticky from sweat. We spent a lot of time at the beach soaking up the sun and perfect bodies. Having been to Mexico a few times I was under the impression Europeans were generally over weight and wore the smallest bikinis and speedos. Although the latter is true Barcelona's beach is full of beautiful, thin, confident Spaniards, enough to make you think that Canadians and Americans should adopt the siesta lifestyle. I have no doubt that all the men in my life would greatly enjoy a day at one of these scantily clad beaches.
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