- So far, after every meal my dad has politely requested "one ticket, please."
- The other night as they were locking the garden gates of the Palau Robert (locking us in), we apparently ran around asking everyone for a salad.
- Today, we scoured the MACBA (Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art) for the paintings of angels before discovering the proper translation of the exhibition title was "There are no angels here."
Catalan, the native language of Barcelona, has a French influence though, so it kinda looks like French but with real endings to the words.
I don't know if it was the way I looked, or the fact that I keep automatically blurting out "merci" after transactions, but a flamboyant flamenco street performer (with a suspiciously deep voice) asked me "oh, français?" My proudest moment. Let's hope I can get a similar reaction in France.
P.s. to mom, proof that we did successfully meet up:
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