Eurotrip, day 17

Fed up with French prices (it's really an issue) we hit the road to Barcelona. The car started blinking because of overheating. After careful investigation, turns out it's mostly false alarm. Anyway, it gets me worried.

As we hit Spain, I'm the designated speaker, which means I have to speak Spanish. Half of my family won't talk to me ever again, but ok... The climate makes me feel at home, at least. We found good maps and tourist info, so the search for accomodation should be easy. Or at least easier.

The closed parking won't be cheap, but the car is safe. Then the hostal is fancy, but expensive. La Rambla is full of prostitutes, Ziga received an ass compliment with a badly disguised purpose behind it and the whole place is a comic freak show. Lovely.