Cultured and not-so-cultured evenings

Ages ago, we booked tickets to go and see one of my favourite operas, La traviata, at the opera house here in Barcelona. Liceu was originally built in 1847, and then burned down twice before being reconstructed in 1994. Even though it’s a new build, it doesn’t lack for any of the ornate decor of other European opera houses like Palais Garnier or the Royal Opera House.

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It. Was. Incredible.

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Giorgio Gremont (performed by Àngel Òdena) nearly brought me to tears with his performance of Pura siccome un angelo, the costumes were flawless, and generally just the atmosphere inside the theatre was just electric. I would recommend anyone who visits Barcelona to go and see something, no matter what, just to get a taste of what the theatre really feels like.

After that amazing evening, this week has been really distinctly average. Adam left on Wednesday morning, which was lucky because Wednesday, Thursday and Friday I didn’t leave work before 8pm. But, I did find the time to bake a petit gâteau to celebrate Halloween.

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While I wasn’t actually a fan of the cake itself (though it went down a storm at the office), those tiny handmade pumpkins may be the thing I am most proud of in life so far… Is that sad? I will write up the recipe and send it to anyone who wants it. The actual day was distinctly anticlimactic – a very busy day at work now that my boss is away (part of the reason I can’t come to Bailey Ball…), though we celebrated the end of a brutal week with a little with some cava in the office once we’d prepared everything for the following week. I actually adore my office – they’re a lovely bunch, and really put up with all my language blunders and correct me if something is blindingly obvious – otherwise, they treat me as one of the team.

The ladies of 109 Balmes had planned to have une soirée at ours for Halloween, and so after dinner I appropriately ‘dressed up’, expecting a casual pre-drinks before the others headed out – I couldn’t afford the energy or money to support another night at La Fira. How naïve could I have been? At one point, there were around fifty people of thirty-odd nationalities in our little kitchen. The party kept going until 4.15, after which I have no idea what happened because I passed out, exhausted, in my bedroom. I may or may not have woken up still wearing thigh-high boots and my Halloween make-up. Now there’s a scary face, for sure.

Consequently, this weekend has been distinctly chilled. Yesterday I ate my body weight in Betty Crocker frosting and read Le Monde diplo while my laptop updated itself, and then today I’ve been learning vocab (how sad) and managed to get horribly lost (for two and a half hours) on my run this evening, before a FaceTime with Lydia. Trying to catch up with as many Johnians as possible this week, it’ll be weird not to celebrate with them on Friday 😦

besos et bisous x

 

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