I´m one classy lassy

We are back in Barcelona for a few hours. We arrived back in Barcelona and decided to take a train to Madrid. That means we once again had to take the metro across the city to the train station from the bus station. Luckily, tourist info tells us we just take one train from point A to point B. But that sure didn´t stop Adrian from asking literally three more people for directions. The same directions. And I already had it under control! It was a total relapse from him apparently restraining himself from asking people and double-guessing me over the past couple days. Or as he put it, following my orders. Which he then rephrased to say, “giving my suggestions priority.”

Anyways, we made it to the train station and the express AVE two-hour train to Madrid ended up being ridiculously expensive (120 euros each) so we decided to just take a regular train overnight.

In the meantime, we have two hours to kill at the train station, so we just killed a bottle of wine. Drinking at the train station – classy! While we were drinking our wine in the train station cafeteria, Adrian proceeded to serenade me in French. And when I say French, I mean what Adrian thinks sounds like French, since he doesn´t actually speak the language.

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