Where You Going?

Film

Barcelona.
Oh.
Enough Sondheim referencing. I’m in Barcelone for the weekend for several reasons. Making myself stop work. Blue skies. Jamon Iberico. The Rambla at Catalunya. Gaudi. Oh, and I’m getting my neighbour Shelley Von Strunckel some Marcona almonds from the Boqueria market, which has been here since medieval times. Since I was last here they’ve installed little yellow buggies that take you around town – handy for shopping.

But what I love about the post-Franco reinvention of ‘moderniste’ Spain is the attitude. As we checked into the hotel, the receptionist’s opening line was ‘Who do I kill?’

I said, ‘Sorry?’

He said ‘Someone has given you a double bed. Would you like two?’

I looked at my partner and said ‘No.’

To which the receptionist replied, without missing a beat, ‘Sorry, blame my shitty Catholic upbringing.’

You’ve got to love a hotel that allows that level of quick-witted informality.

4 comments on “Where You Going?”

  1. Helen Martin says:

    Mind you, I’ll bet he kicked himself severely afterward.

  2. Wow. None of the hotels I’ve attended in Barcelona recently had staff with that level of English (or French) banter — nor could I understand it if they had displayed it in Spanish or Catalan. Mind you, they were extremely helpful and pleasant.

    But Noel Coward they weren’t. ^_________^

  3. Alison says:

    Many years ago I was in a hotel in some glamorous spot or other and the personage behind the counter actually said to my partner, “oh, you appear to have been booked into a double room … I assume you want two beds?” My partner looked at me, looked at him, and then said that yes, two beds would be great. “That way we can put all our stuff on one of them”.

    To say the poor man was a little flustered is an understatement.

  4. Jane of the Waking Universe says:

    Loved your story about the hotel. And the picture of the market stall is stunning. Hope you had an amazing (and relaxing) weekend!

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