Admittedly, I have not been very good about keeping my blog up-to-date in recent weeks. These days, it’s less a question of “Where’s Matthew?” than it is a question of “Where isn’t Matthew?” In short, I have been doing a lot of travelling.

Looking over my frequent flyer statement for the past month, I count:

– 5 visits to Barcelona
– 1 visit to Dublin
– 1 visit to Geneva
– 2 visits to London

It feels like more than that, if I am honest. These days I seem to be living on a plane. The Barcelona flights leave early in the morning and usually involve a 5am start. As Aude can attest, I am not exactly man-at-his-finest at 5 in the morning, no matter how many times I do it.

I am getting better at negotiating CDG airport, though. I have learned all the little shortcuts that means I can make it from taxi to gate in less than five minutes. I know which security lines are consistently shortest, and I can fetch myself breakfast in the lounge on autopilot these days.

I’m also getting to know Barcelona a little better. As the weather gets cooler, we have traded our hotel by the beach for a series of hotels downtown. We are discovering good restaurants and bars, and I have finally been introduced to real, genuine, proper tapas. It is a million miles away from anything I have tasted elsewhere.

The system is pretty straight-forward. The tapas are placed on large plates around the restaurant, and you help yourself to whatever you like. New, different tapas comes out all night. Each one is held to a piece of bread by a toothpick. At the end of the evening, you return to the bar and pay your bill. It’s all based on an honesty system – you hand over your toothpicks, they’re tallied up, and you confess to however many beers you’ve had to drink. Depending on how long you have been at the tapas bar, this may be more difficult than it appears – in which case, they’ll usually work off an estimate! I can’t imagine this system working in England, but it seems to work fine here.

It looks like I will be spending most of my time back-and-forth between Paris and Barcelona until mid-November, after which I hope to reduce my involvement in the project, spending more time working in Switzerland (just in time for ski season – no coincidence!) and less in Spain.

More updates to come. Just wanted to put something on here so that people knew I wasn’t dead.

I spent Monday through Wednesday in Barcelona, or more accurately, outside Barcelona. The factory is just beside the airport and the hotel was in Gava, directly on the beach but a fair way outside the city centre.

Looking out onto the pool from my room. Unfortunately, cold weather and rain plus long working days means that this was as close as I would get to going for a dip…

One of the nicer hotel rooms I have been in on this project…

One of the nicer hotel rooms I have been in on this project…

Free minibar. The sweetest words a travelling consultant can hear. Is there any reason not to love this hotel? (For the record, the minibar contained 3 bottles of soda, 4 bottles of water, and a 25ml bottle of beer. Before anyone gets any ideas…)

This was my first trip to Barcelona, but I didn’t get to see much of the city. I saw quite a lot of the airport (although not the airline lounge, despite being entitled access I was banned because my codeshare was apparently not eligible). My experiences flying with Iberia confirmed my worst fears: the airlines of Latin countries are generally to be avoided. Tiny seats, surly service, and not even a free glass of water. Not exactly what I expect when I’ve paid nearly EUR600 for a ticket.

I did get to see a lot of Barcelona that was not on the tourist track, however. The taxi driver did not know where the hotel was, so we relied on GPS. And GPS decided to take us on a tour of some of the grottier areas of Barcelona. And right through the middle of the trucker’s strike.

The factory itself was interesting, although I have not had a tour of the production facilities yet. The overwhelming smell when I was there was of fruit flavouring, cloying and sticky-sweet. Apparently this isn’t too bad – when they produce mint products, the smell is unbearable. Remind me to give mint day a miss.

We had some great tapas at a restaurant near the hotel, washed back with a good bottle of Rioja. I was pleasantly surprised after coming from Switzerland – I had to ask the waiter if the wine was priced by the glass or by the bottle, because a bottle of wine in Spain was roughly the same price as a small glass in Switzerland.

It managed to rain for nearly the entire trip. Not quite what I had expected from sunny Spain. Overall, my first trip to Barcelona wasn’t an overwhelming success. Maybe next time will be better.