BARCELONA

Only in Barcelona could we stumble off the dark streets of Barri Gotic and onto the chaos of Las Ramblas, in the midst of a festival: people dancing in the streets, playing music, singing, hand-in-hand with giant paper maiche puppets, robed in the garb of Catalan royalty, and striding slightly topsy-turvy along the pedestrian thoroughfare.

Its just as we imagined Barcelona to be.

The mornings are always a little cool, and the sun doesn't seem to get hot until lunch time. 

We buy a dozen pairs of espadrilles from Barcelona's "La Manual Aparagatera".

La Rambla has just begun to stir, at 10 AM. We reach La Boqueria, which is a flurry of fishmongers, and butchers; stall after stall of fruit, vegetables, meat, fish, jamon, cheese, chocolate, bread...

Breakfast is tortilla, sausages, and chickpeas, along with a glass of 'cava', Spanish sparkling wine, at the Pinotxo Bar...

We visit the MACBA, the Museum of Contemporary Art, and the Picasso Museum; stroll past Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, and explore the incredible architecture of Casa Batllo.

In the afternoon, we stopped by the marina, took a walk along Barceloneta.

We could have gotten so lost in Barcelona that we may not have found our way home...

But we only had three days.

And if we had done nothing else, other than walk those dark and charming streets, and eat jamon, then perhaps that would have been enough...

ROSES, COSTA BRAVA

The night we arrived, there was a man building a sandcastle on the beach. All lit up with tiny candles. 

This was the place where we had the best meal ever. No, not El Bulli. Rafa's, a tiny restaurant that serves only fish and seafood. Sea cucumbers, squid, scorpion fish...

We might have been the youngest people there.

For the beach side village of Roses, on the Costa Brava, seemed to be inhabited mostly by middle-aged, or retired Catalans, or those with families, enjoying the final months of warm sunshine and swimming. For us, the promenade here was a vague reminder of Queensland's Sunshine Coast, or Surfer's Paradise. Only in Spanish.

But none of this seemed important. For the sun was shining, and the water was still just warm enough to swim. We were simply waiting.

For Roses main attraction is without doubt El Bulli. The world's best restaurant. And that was where we would be going.

EL BULLI

After hours on the beach, and an afternoon siesta, we began to dress for dinner.

One feels somewhat overdressed, walking down the beach side promenade of Roses, in suit jacket, black dress and high heels.

But then we're sitting in the cab, beginning our magical drive to another world; the winding, coastal road, looking out over the sea. If our excitement and anticipation dissipates for even a second, we may wonder if the taxi driver actually knows where he is going...

Until he steers down a slight incline. And we are at the gates. 

El Bulli. A stroll through the courtyard. We take our time. There is the white house, by the sea, just like the thousand photographs we've seen, in books, over and over. It is easy to forget the sea when one is inside - until you walk along the terrace to use the restrooms and hear the waves lapping against the shore.

Everyone, walking down the main entrance hall, is greeted by a fleet of perfect Spaniards, all dressed in handsome grey suits, and blue-green ties. They give us a tour of the kitchen, where Chef Ferran Adria shakes hands with each of his guests, graciously welcoming us all. For all the million times he must have done this, he doesn't seem at all tired of it.

And then it begins. 

There is no way to describe the food here, for it is beyond words. From the almost laughably simple, to the most complex and scientific - or at least it seems. It is not a meal, only an experience, involving food and wine, and a beautiful room, and all those things that make an unforgettable evening.

We have wondered what it might be like... and as we sat there, for our 5 hour dinner, our 30 or so courses of wondrous creations, glancing occasionally at the single red rose that adorns each table in a glass vase.

It is completely surreal.

Later we found ourselves on the terrace, sipping tea and coffee... and suddenly we can hear the ocean again.

And then, all we can think about is waking up. For at the end of such a magical experience, we can only assume we had been dreaming...