Benita & Lolita

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Geo: 41.3879, 2.16992

Seven hours - it's not very long, but just enough time to transfer between Heathrow and Gatwick, having a bite to eat along the way, and soaking in a little bit of atmospheric London. Covent Garden or Borough Market are usually a great way to kill a few hours in London, but something different was on for today - the Church and Bell Street Market.

Having neither the tourist buzz of Covent Garden nor the gastronomic offerings of Borough Market, Church and Bell Street is more of a local market, with a distinctly ethnic flair. You won't find any French patisseries, gourmet delis, or imported Spanish olive oils here - instead, it's bustling coffee shops, middle Eastern quick bites, and Moroccan grilled fish on offer.

The smells and sounds of the food stalls drew me in, but having previously read up on this particular market, there was mention of a patio atop Alfie's Antique's market - though my stomach said go ethnic, my mind said roof top patio, since this was an all-too-rare sunny day in London. Not just sunny - but sunny with a blue-tinged sky, not the typical dreary grey.

The menu looked promising, with a selection that included traditional English breakfast choices, as well as more internationally-influenced offerings. Other than the lovely rooftop, not much good was going on here ... any one of the Indian, Middle Eastern, or Moroccan food stalls would've been a far superior choice, or perhaps one of the bustling coffee shops and cafes down below would've served a more edible breakfast and a half-decent cup of joe. At least the favourable exchange rate meant that this wasn't a total rip-off, since a similarly mediocre breakfast could be had in Canada for about the same price.

As always, travel to continental Europe makes for a long day because of the distances traveled, the time change, and the often-awkward hours of departure - early evening flights, as in this case, mean that you may get a few hours of sleep, if any, before landing in London. All in all, the trip to Barcelona from Calgary takes over 20 hours, from the the time you leave the house to the time you check in to wherever you are sleeping for the night.

But the complete exhaustion on the flight from London quickly dissipated - it's something which cannot be avoided upon arrival in the land of the Spanish sun. There really is something in the light here, endowing you with energy and making everything seem more beautiful, more photogenic. It's not just being in a new place or on holidays, there truly is something special in the air.

Benita had already been in Barcelona four nights by the time I had arrived, giving her time to see all the highlights of this brilliant city. Though it was nearly 9 PM by the time I had rambled down from Placa Catalunya to the hotel, there was no time to rest - Barcelona was calling us to go out, to sample all its charms!

I must admit - though Benita and I had planned to spend a couple days together in Barcelona before kicking off our individual trips, I had a hidden agenda I didn't tell her about. I was here for somebody else - another girl! Yes, I am a cad of the worst kind - not only was I going to step out on my girl, but I was going to flaunt it in her face.

I was here for Lolita, a spicy Spanish senorita - you can't blame me, as she's famous throughout the World, with men journeying from afar to catch only a fleeting glimpse of her beauty, to share a brief moment basking in her vibrancy. Discriminating as to who she sees, not every man who ventures to Barcelona is fortunate enough to nibble on her sweet goodies, let alone have been with her twice, like I have.

Her last name is Taperia, and yes, Lolita is the best tapas bar I have ever been in! Having been featured on "Spain: On the Road Again" when the bar was named Bar Inopia and under the ownership of the most famous of chefs, Ferran Adria, it's become a pilgrimage of sorts for foodies from around the globe. Yes, I relentlessly complain of the dubious nature of Spanish food, but Lolita delivers like no other - featuring a mix of the traditional and the modern, it elevates Spanish cuisine to new heights. It's not that Lolita does anything revolutionary, it's that it does things exceptionally well - where something is normally too greasy, over-cooked, or under-seasoned, Lolita hits it perfectly.

But alas, the third time was not the charm for me nor Benita, as we found the roll-up doors closed, with only an inconspicuous piece of paper posted, telling us the sad, sad, truth - today was the festival of San Juan, meaning that Lolita was closed for business. We had no idea who San Juan was, nor why he was being celebrated, as the only evidence of celebrations we witnessed were fireworks, cherry bombs exploding, and people burning stuff in the streets.

We only knew that San Juan had deprived us of Lolita tonight, and that tomorrow being Sunday, her normal day of rest, meant that there would be no sampling her sweet delights before leaving Spain. Though the festival made for an energetic vibe in the streets, with both adults and children alike setting off fire crackers, we would've preferred an evening with Lolita, since the only possible bad outcome with her would be some indigestion - the worst that could happen with San Juan would be getting a toe blown off as kids tossed explosives at your feet.

Beaten but not broken, we set off in search of something else to eat - when in Spain and in search of something good to eat, you cannot fail with a kebab. Not the best of luck tonight, as it was a rather mediocre kebab - having selected a place based on its atmospheric location overlooking Raval's main square, we were doomed to fail. The place turned out to be an Indian restaurant that did kebabs on the side - nothing against the fine cuisine of India, but this type of kebab isn't from there, so it just wasn't quite right, lacking the proper seasoning.

No matter - though not what we had expected, there is no better way to end an evening in Barcelona than sitting on a terrace and enjoying the evening paseo. Visca Catalunya!

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Photos

Oil Slick for Breakfast ...
... chorizo, eggs, with "roasted" peppers - sounded delish, but this ended up being a hot, greasy mess. Somebody call BP to clean up this oil slick! The chorizo was good, but that was about the extent of it - this was nothing more than a grease bomb disguised as breakfast! A couple of eggs were cracked over a few slices of chorizo, tomato, and roasted peppers that weren't actually roasted, drenched in oil, and then baked in the oven inside of a Spanish-style earthenware dish. The accompanying slices of bread were dry.

Dirty Beach Cappuccino ...
... mediocre - the layer of frothed milk on top wasn't foamy but spongy and somewhat solid. It looked more like something you'd find on a dirty beach, when the sea foams with grease and pollutants.

No Riots, Just Revelry ...
... having come across people burning things in the street, we first thought it may have been riots in protest to the recent austerity measures put in place by European governments. Little did we know it was the festival of San Juan - when you're unhappy you burn stuff, and when you're happy, you still burn stuff!

Direct From Colombia ...
.... Botero's cat!