Our run of good weather came to an end today, when we woke to steady rain. Still, it could have been worse if we’d got it in the previous two days when we were walking around Barcelona. Now all we had to do was get Ruth to the airport for her return flight to Australia. After our troubles finding the right terminal a month ago when we picked her up, we were confident we had it straightened out now. But as we got closer to the airport, my mind kept saying “2B or not 2B”. However,  I couldn’t find directions to Terminal 2B, so when I saw a sign to Terminal 2, I was relieved and followed the directions. It was only when I got to the carpark entrance that I realised I was again at the wrong terminal! But I couldn’t turn around, so I had to enter the carpark. But at least I now knew how to find the exit so I hurried through the carpark as fast as I could do safely, because we had to get Ruth to her plane. But when I tried to exit the carpark with my ticket, it wouldn't open the barrier. I remembered the problems from last time, so tried holding the ticket upside down, back-to-front and any other possible way, but still no result. I then saw that someone, who must have been having similar problems with the ticket reader in the adjacent lane, had driven straight through the barrier, leaving it in pieces on the ground. So I backed out of my lane and exited in the adjacent lane. It was only later that I realised that I hadn’t validated my ticket and that’s why it wouldn't let me exit!

So now we were on a search for Terminal 1, and once again we were lucky to see a shuttle bus headed that way. So we tagged behind and quickly found ourselves at Terminal 1. After we parked I took a photo of our parking position identifier to avoid any further problems. We then got Ruth to the departure area, got her steelpans plastic-wrapped and had time for a coffee and muffin before seeing her off at the entrance to the departure gates. Now we were Ruthless!

But our hassles had not quite ended. When we got back to our parking place, the car was missing! I had had a nasty feeling as we left it that in our rush I had not locked the doors, but couldn’t believe that someone had stolen it in that time.

But luckily it was just our stupidity that was a problem, after I checked the photo on my phone, and found that we were at D-3-2I9-218! So we went back into the terminal, found the exit to carpark C, and there was our car!

After all this hassle, it was still not yet 0800h, so we decided to get out of the city and go do something pleasant. So we found our way to route A2 and headed north out of Barcelona, headed for Montserrat. Luckily we were headed out of Barcelona because the traffic heading into Barcelona was peak-hour, with extremely long slow-moving queues.

After about an hour, we had reached the town of Bruc, and turned off A2 to go to Montserrat. The mountain roads were narrow and twisty and the morning mist had not yet risen, so we found a wayside stop and pulled over for a look at the view. Since it was still early, we then decided to lay back our seats and grab a short nap.

When we woke, we continued the climb up the mountain. Eventually, we came to the parking area for the Montserrat Monastery, so we parked and walked the rest of the way. The view from the top was spectacular (not). We wondered if it was worth going any further if it was just going to be wall-to-wall fog.

But we continued on and eventually climbed through the fog just as we arrived at the main tourist area with the monastery buildings and the church. It was pretty special the way that the buildings had just been grafted onto the mountainside.

We followed some tourist groups around and listened to their guides to get some idea of the history of Montserrat, because frankly we knew virtually nothing of the place, apart from the name, before we arrived here today. Eventually we found ourselves at the church, and decided to go inside (partly to get out of the fog/mist/rain and also because Rita had heard that they sometimes had singers to accompany the organ).

When we got inside, we were surprised at the number of people there, but it soon became apparent (from the attendant who told anyone holding a camera or a phone, including us, that photographs were not allowed during the Mass) that Mass at Montserrat was about to begin. Since Rita had spotted the organ player getting into position, we decided to stay, and hence I attended my first Mass (apart from weddings and funerals) in over 40 years. Rita enjoyed the organ and singing, and the sermon which had a very social and environmental theme, while I was surprised how little had changed in 40 years. Apart from the fact that most of it was in Spanish (actually Catalan), I could have been attending the 8am Polish Mass from Fairfield all those yearsAfter Mass, we grabbed some lunch at the cafeteria, and then headed down the mountain. Given what we had seen of the northbound border queues when we came down to pick up Ruth and what we had heard on the radio about today’s expected traffic, we decided to avoid the main Motorway and go back via the coast road. It wouldn’t save us any time in total but at least we would be moving and enjoying the scenery. So we headed across country towards Figueres, and then some Google searching found a hotel for the night at Roses, which sounded OK. So we decided to stop and smell the Roses. ago!

After Mass, we grabbed some lunch at the cafeteria, and then headed down the mountain. Given what we had seen of the northbound border queues when we came down to pick up Ruth and what we had heard on the radio about today’s expected traffic, we decided to avoid the main Motorway and go back via the coast road. It wouldn’t save us any time in total but at least we would be moving and enjoying the scenery. So we headed across country towards Figueres, and then some Google searching found a hotel for the night at Roses, which sounded OK. So we decided to stop and smell the Roses.

The description of the hotel at Roses was somewhat misleading. Instead of a hotel near the water, it was a hotel located in the middle of a suburban area development. It was the picture of the swimming pool that had convinced Rita to select it, and so while I rested up, she went down for a late afternoon swim. In the end, however, it was the swimming pool (at night) that was its saving grace, as we had dinner by the pool in the warm evening air, and then listened to a DJ playing some nice music while we had a couple of drinks. All’s well that ends well.