Goodness, but I’ve forgotten a lot and a lot of Spanish. Almost feels like I remembered nada. But the lesson was fun.

In the afternoon, the mister and I sat and watched the beach-goers at Barcelonata while sipping vino rosado and glancing, from time to time, at our books. The lads were being taken care off at their day camp (which, thank Dio, included endless games of futbol to sweeten the morning’s Spanish lessons).

And now, because it’s Spain, it’s 10.15 and the children are still up. We, the adults, must somehow herd them into bed while everyone maintains a quiet and calm demeanour. This never ends well. Even in Barcelona.