Just kidding about the social outcast part, by the way.
It's so strange, though: when I'm an accidental tourist in a foreign land--meaning that I've come along for the ride on one of my pilot husband's overseas flights to Europe--I become an accidental beer drinker as well. And the crazy thing is, when I'm over there with my hubby seeing some awesome European city for the first time, for some inexplicable reason beer tastes like Heaven to me.
The first-ever trip I took with my husband (with him up front, driving the airplane) was to Nice, in December of 2011. At the end of our second day of sightseeing there on the beautiful Cote d'Azur, we bought two tall cans of Heineken at a little grocery store and went down by the water to drink them at sunset. I don't believe life gets any better than that, and I don't believe I've ever tasted anything so wonderful as that ice cold can of beer I drank as I sat with my favorite person and watched the sky turn orange over the Mediterranean.
|You can't see my can of Heineken in this picture; but it's there, believe me.|
So it's no surprise that the beer in Barcelona this past Friday was surprisingly tasty, too. I told you yesterday that we saw several Irish pubs during our walk about the city. After watching the sunset at the Port de Barcelona, we ended up at one of them--Flaherty's, a pub my husband remembered visiting before, as they offered 1 euro beers during happy hour. Even though they'd gone up to 1.30, we stopped in and each had two bottles of one of the local brews.
|A.K. Damm: good stuff!|