Sep 2, 2009 3


Well wouldn’t you know, it’s September.

Somehow, the St. Louis summer breezed by us. Literally. Global warming naysayers only had to look to this city, whose residents usually brace for August’s muggy scorchers, to argue that shrinking arctic ice caps are a load of bull. Summer in StL has been perfect and pleasant.

But do you know where it was hotter than Jesus? Barcelona. Yes, as in Spain; as in flamenco and gazpacho and the term “Olé.”

Ben and I recently joined family for a 9-day summer vacation overseas. Our group of 12 Americanos had quite the experience moving between three cities, sweating profusely on double-decker buses and begging confounded waiters for “mas agua, por favor.” We were loud, at times impatient and flustered by the close-calls of our travels. Yet it was all worth it.

From the top of Toledo to the Museu Picasso, from La Sagrada Familia to Park Güell, from La Rambla to the Prado and then Palacio Real, Spain showed us what all the hype was about.

And now, we can show you too.