My favorite museum in Madrid was actually not the Prado (...I OD'd on Virgin and Childs and medieval art. Which is not my thing) but the Thyssen-Bornemiza.

3 hours to clean my room, but I did all clothes put away, drawers ordered, bed changed, floor vacuumed, and half the surfaces decluttered. I have too much stuff and too much of it in my bedroom.

In Barcelona you get to see Antoni Gaudi architecture like the Sagrada Famíllia. And pretend you're a character in a Whit Stillman film.

Thanks, everyone. I'm tagging along with ND on the Nick Family Cruise this summer, which sails out of Barcelona (yay frequent flyer miles and being married to a guy who does shit like that!), but I will be flying in and out of Madrid and then taking a commuter hop down to Barcelona. I will have one night before the cruise and two nights after when I'll be on my own. Right now I'm leaning towards Barcelona (I've been reading a bunch of traveler reviews who say English isn't generally a problem in either city), but I'll bring a basic phrase book along regardless. Honestly the weather is what's tipping it now. End of July/early August is going to be hot and humid, and I think I'd rather do that with sea breezes.

(...I OD'd on Virgin and Childs and medieval art. Which is not my thing)

Whereas I could not possibly OD on either, not even if I tried. Possibly the most predictable statement I've ever made in a lifetime of predictable statements.

ION, I've been cleaning and cleaning and the difference is just barely discernible, if you squint. If I weren't soloing Matilda this weekend, I'd totally be soaking my head in gin right now.

I didn't have a problem in Barcelona 15 sob years ago. I loved it and found tons of people to talk to (I was travelling solo.) It's simply beautiful geographically.

My shoulder is cranky. I think it wasn't the swim, but the yardwork on top of it. It's happened before. Who knew raking and scooping could do that? Oh, and at one point when was reaching to scoop some stuff up, a muscle in my butt twanged and went useless and for the next several iterations, I had to keep that leg out straight behind me when I went to scoop and lift. I probably looked like I was doing some sort of bastardized ballet move. It went away. I don't like reminders my body is steadily falling apart.

I prefer Barcelona; Madrid is a new city that's a little like NY. Barcelona is close to the water and has the Ramblas and Gaudi. Maybe I'm biased because I was harassed in Madrid and didn't see the Prado. But in either city you just won't have language trouble -- English is the lingua franca of Europe, and for the rest, just brush up on your skills in international communication.

(Ftr, I totally can't afford to do this but just don't care. I've never been anywhere outside of North America except England, and I doubt another opportunity like this will arise. So. Yeah.)

In Barcelona you get to see Antoni Gaudi architecture like the Sagrada Famíllia.

And Casa Batlló!

Also the Museu de l'erotica, which is fun if you like erotica, which I know no one here likes.

Pix, if you want a preview of Barcelona, you can skim my photo albums: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V.

Drat, two of the steaks I bought Tuesday have rapidly gone bad despite a third being just fine last night. It was like the beef had a supernaturally aging portrait of itself that I destroyed by undoing the wrapper.

Oh well, I guess I'm now forced to go out to dinner.