Day-after reunion, strangest in-flight announcement and return to Brum. (Barcelona)
Spent the last morning in Barcelona buying souvenirs for family and friends, items like books, CDs, sweets made from milk, honey and almonds. As for me, I passed: the clothes were crap and I could not face another pair of sandals.
As I left the hotel with my bags, who should appear but Maurizio. It was like a reunion with an old friend. We strolled together to the Plaza, Maurizio merrily jabbering on in Italian, providing the blow-by-blow of his previous evening from which he had returned many hours after he had left us. We bid each other a genuinely fond adios at the top of Las Ramblas, and while I awaited the bus I munched on one of the mangoes I had bought earlier at the Mercado.
The plane ride home was uneventful, save for the bizarre chanting by the crew over the plane’s PA system as we were waiting for takeoff. They actually sang, “One, two, three, four, we are happy and secure!!” I was surprised they didn’t follow this with, “and thanks for flying Air Goofy.” I began to question the wisdom of taking British discount airlines.
Back to Birmingham, back to end and back to the beginning.
