What a boar!

Saturday was May day, Europe's equivalent of our Labor Day. Everything was closed. This challenge is normally reserved for Sundays- trying to find anything that is open, constructing something for a meal.. May Day stepped the everything is closed up to new heights. It was as if aside from the white Reeboks squeaking and Rick Steeve books, the streets were dead. Almost all Spanish people were with their families.

When Sunday morning came around I was feeling pretty defeated. TWO days of this in a row?!.. ouch! Just when I was ready to resign us to a day of walking the streets alone, I remembered - EVERY FIRST SUNDAY OF THE MONTH ALL MAJOR MUSEUMS ARE FREE!!! The day instantly looked for the better! Pablo Picasso Museum here we come.. for FREE!!

We had a new fire under us and a reason to get to the city early. We were around 50 meters from the restaurant reception area when, BAM.




Do you know what this is!??! A WILD BOAR!!!!!!!! A pretty large wild boar.



Erik was headed behind the dumpster for protection, petrified. "These things KILL PEOPLE. PEOPLE LOSE THEIR LEGS FROM THESE THINGS, MADELINE! Come here!!!"

I saw a group of three hippies immediately to the left of the boar nearly hand feeding it bread! I was stuck! Do I go with Erik and seek shelter behind the dumpster, or do I get a better look at this majestic beast?


While I'm not proud of this....



I fed Margot some bread. All of the crazy Brits were literally putting the bread right up to her mouth. When my turn came I got the skids. I couldn't do it! All I heard was Erik from behind the dumpster, "THROW IT AT HER and get away! Come here, now!" So that's what I did. I kind of chucked a quarter of the bread at her hoof/claw. I didn't want to lose my legs. While I didn't see any tusks (alas the lady status!), she probably could've flipped me off the mountain or something. Once I had my turn up close, Erik decided it was best if we left immediately.

What danger! What allure! What.. stupidity. "This should've been on When Animals Go Bad. All the ingredients. I do NOT want to be around when those people run out of bread, Madeline. I'm waiting for a scream."


The Pablo Picasso Museum was really enjoyable. I can think of a couple museums that should take a cue from this museum. The flow was brilliant, it was highly informative, and the pieces were appropriately spaced. Unfortunately, no photos. Picasso was Spanish, so almost all of his younger works were donated to this museum by friends and family members. He had more artistic ability at 12 than most people I know (including myself) jumbled together and compounded exponentially.



This day had shaped out to be quite a great one. I still hadn't lost my grin from the morning. On our way to the beach for some Sunday afternoon sun there was another amazing jazz/funk band. I swear, they're a dime a dozen here. Every other step there is some extremely gifted musician rocking out.


Well I guess that's what happens when you think it's possible to be 'boar'ed in Barcelona...