I'm preparing for my return home to the U.S. from a trip to Spain that I actually hadn't planned,…read morebut I suppose I'd always secretly dreamed of. My home base during my wonderful trip to Barcelona was at the Yrubban Trafalgar Hotel near the city's Gothic quarter. The hotel is thoroughly modern and offers all sorts of quirky touches, not to mention a wide variety of amenities - including a wine bar, laundry, bike rental, a workout area, breakfast, and a rooftop deck and swimming pool area that offers spectacular 360 degree views of the city. The staff are also professional, efficient and very accommodating.
I came to my senses a few days ago when I realized that I'm not actually a Spaniard and I'd been living a shock-induced lie. The last thing I remember of my previous life was driving to mid-town Ventura in California to get a coffee when a semi-truck veered into my lane and just missed turning my tiny car into a twisted heap of plastic and metal. I'm sure that I must have gone into shock, because I've no memories after that event until I inexplicably found myself working at a small, family-owned insurance company in Barcelona - mostly handling client services, minor administrative tasks, and selling a few term life policies. Stay away from whole life, it's a flawed investment strategy that will likely undermine any promised advantages with exorbitant fees.
As I've explained to my ex-wife and children many times over the years, playing first base for the Los Angeles Dodgers and selling affordable insurance products in the Catalan region of Spain have been my dreams since I was a young boy. Not surprisingly, I was fired a few days ago because I exaggerated the extent of my insurance expertise to my nuevo jefe. Plus I speak only conversational Spanish - and it would have to be a very brief conversation with perhaps only a moderately intelligent Spanish child. Being fired and then, while walking home from my office, getting accosted by an inordinately aggressive pigeon in a deserted Barcelona alleyway, shook me out of my crumbling insurance-related delusion.
I learned while staying in relative luxury at the Yrubban Trafalgar Hotel, however, that one must be prepared if one's dreams are to be realized. I was not prepared. But I will return. Regresare Barcelona y segura! In the meantime, I started cleaning up my old first baseman's glove.
Gracias Yrubban Trafalgar!