Think it’s possible to survive on little but ham for a week? Before Barcelona, I would have balked. But this is no ordinary ham, friends. We’re talking Jamon Iberico de Bellota, the infamous cured meat made from black pigs that are raised solely on acorns – a delicious delicacy that’s nearly impossible to find in the States. It’s decadent, it’s expensive and man, we ate a lot of it (washed down with copious bottles of Cava, the Spanish answer to champagne).

The Barcelona trip came about as a pleasant happenstance, as I had not planned on going to Europe twice this year. I was going to spend my 40th birthday in Machu Picchu, although with my workplace imposing quarterly furloughs (weeks off without pay), Peru was looking less and less likely.

Enter my generous friend Soon, an expat whose continent-spanning consulting job left her with more frequent flyer miles than time. She offered to fly Don and I, as well as our friend Stephanie from New Orleans, over to Europe for a week in June. John, a friend attending graduate school in Paris, would meet us.

We considered a French gite, a Tuscan villa. But in the end, Spain won out. Soon yearned for the Costa Brava beaches and the rest of us wanted a place we knew we could enjoy on limited funds. I had been to Barcelona in my backpack days and knew it to be an architectural delight, a place where art came alive on nearly every corner. Plus I knew the food would be out of this world.

Next question: where to stay. Five people, five (big) personalities meant we needed space. After a few false starts, I found Sol Sagrada – a four bedroom apartment a few blocks from the Sagrada Familia that not only two and half baths, but an outdoor patio and large living room. Total cost? 1,100 Euros, or only 38 Euros per person per night. We could all live with that.

Highlights:

The apartment. Don and I were the first to arrive at Sol Sagrada, and I had much trepidation. What if the apartment was a dump? I would be held responsible and everyone would hate me.

The apartment was hardly luxurious – the beds were all singles, the furniture screamed IKEA and the raggedy towels were hardly hotel quality. But it was clean, spacious and most important, had no bugs. “It’s almost like having our own private hostel,” I said to Don. Luckily, our friends set aside their preferences for more upscale accommodation as well.

Settling into apartment life was easy. We stocked up on groceries at a store on our block, used an Internet café on the corner and took the Metro just a few blocks away. We made our own coffee in the mornings, splurged on lunches and mostly snacked in the evenings, feasting on jamon and chocolate, cheese and Cava while sitting on our own terrace. It was glorious and two months later, I still miss it. From now on, I’m renting apartments when I visit Europe (at least when I’m there on my own dime).

Gaudi! I had dreamed my way through the free Parc Guell as a backpacker, marveling at Anton Gaudi’s fantastical imagination. This time with a little more money to burn, I planned on touring as many of his buildings as possible. Besides going back to Parc Guell, we made it to Casa Mila, Casa Batilo, and of course, Sagrada Familia (which we could see from our terrace). I loved watching my husband fly into a photographic frenzy.at each of them, capturing Gaudi’s shapes and swirls. If you love architecture or art, I recommend them all.

Barcelona city tours: Several friends had recommended the city tours operated by the Barcelona tourism office. We took two – the Gothic tour that runs every day at 10:30 and the Picasso tour that runs on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 4 p.m. Both were worthwhile – and at 12 euro, not too expensive.

Daytrips: All of us love wine, so a visit to the cava caves in Penedes was a must. The trip was an easy 45-minute train trip out of the city. I had made an appointment at Codoriu, the world’s largest producer of sparkling wine. They produce over 40 million bottles annually – half of which is consumed in Spain, mostly in Cataluna where sparkling wine is drunk with regular meals, not just on special occasions. We toured the main building, designed by modernisme architect Puig i Cadaflach, a compatriot of Gaudi, and the cellars below. The tour included tastings of several cavas.

After a long and tasty lunch, we had a second tour at the better known (at least in the US) cava celler Freixnacht. We found this to be redundant, with neither the wine nor the grounds as spectacular as Codoriu.

Our second daytrip took us to the hilltop monestary and village of Montserrat. We arrived just in time to hear the boy’s choir sing the Mass. We bypassed the long wait to touch the Black Madonna and instead spent our time wandering the trails leading down to the original shrine. We had mixed feelings about this trip – some of us were unimpressed while others loved it. If I were to go back, I’d try to spend a night in town, just to experience the place when the daytripper crowds thin out.

Santa Maria del Mar: The Gothic Cathedral gets all the press (and it is beautful. Be sure to go on Sunday at noon when Catalunyans dance La Sardana in the plaza out front). But we felt this cathedral in the Born, built to honor working class fisherman and laborers, was far more special.

The food! We ate REALLY well in Barcelona. Among our favorites:

Pa amb tomàquet: Basically, it’s simply toasted bread, tomatoes and garlic – with a Catalan spin. The bread is brought out on a plate, with the tomatoes and raw garlic on the side. You rub the bread with garlic, then cut your tomato in half and plane it across the bread, squeezing out the pulp. Then you drizzle the entire piece with olive oil, salt and eat. Delicious! We are still doing this at home.

Cal Pep: Sure, it’s in all the tourist books. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it! We arrived at this storefront just before 1 p.m. so we could grab a seat at the 14-person counter. A cheerful server told us that he would take care of us and indeed, he did. We must have consumed seven courses in all, plus two bottles of crisp Penedes white wine. Many of them were Catalan specialties, including chipirones, or baby squid, cooked with garbanzo beans, sausage served over white beans, tortilla espanola and crème Catalan. It was a rowdy and intense foodie experience. So worth it.

Paella at Can Sole: Every Sunday, many restaurants down by the marina in the Barceloneta neighborhood serve paella. We chose Can Sole because it was one of the oldest. With white tablecloths and a doting staff, it’s more upscale than a place such as Cal Pep. The stuffed-shirt atmosphere dissipated when our paella came out, in a table spanning pan. It was loaded with seafood – langoustinos, mussels, clams, shrimp – and perfectly seasoned with saffron. “This is REALLY good,” John said. “Like really good, like one of the best meals of my LIFE.” (happy to be there with ya, hon).

TapaC24: Besides trying traditional Catalan dishes, we wanted to experience some of the innovative combos created by disciples of Ferran Adria (of el Bulli fame). This little tapas bar by Carlos Abellan wsa just the ticket. We ordered a sampling of dishes, including potatos brava, crispy cuttlefish, and ham croquettes. A standout: a toasted ham and cheese sandwich topped with a generous amount of truffle oil. The 50 Euro bottle of cava that Soon bought for the table didn’t hurt.

Jamonisimo! This is where we found our ultimate Iberian ham. More of a deli than a restaurant, Jamonisimo had shanks of ham hanging behind the counter. We came at the unpopular hour of 10 a.m., which meant we could grab one of fhe small booths in the back and ooh and ah over the jamon sampler plate. Soon liked Jamonisimo so much that she came back twice.

Boqueria Market: Can’t finish a section on food without talking about this legendary market. It is as wonderful and diverse as everyone says it is. We ate at Pinoxto, pushing our way through the crowds to point at the dishes on the counter, including baby squid with white beans, and more croquettes. If you go, plan to spend plenty of time wandering around, taking in the sights, smells – and tastes.

Lowlights:

Pickpockets:I had warned my husband repeatedly that Barcelona was a haven for pickpockets and other petty crime. With the confidence of a tall man unused to being accosted, he assured me that he would be fine. I knew he wouldn’t be. So I took precautions, giving him a minimum of cash every day and storing the passport back at the apartment.

And boy, I’m glad I did. Our robbery took place at the Liceu  Metro station on the lower portion of Las Ramblas, in the middle of the afternoon. Here’s how the heist went: as we attempted to enter the train, a bunch of guys blocked us at the doors. Concerned that we would be separated, Don pushed us both through the doors. As the gang got off, passengers motioned for us to check out wallets. My purse worn across my body was fine; I had clung to it tightly. But Don had kept his wallet in his front pocket – and it was gone.

Don tried to jump off and grab the thieves, but the door was closing. I’m glad he didn’t, honestly. Even though he’s a big guy, he’s not exactly a street brawler – and the crooks only got away with 50 euro. We did have to cancel a credit card or two, and he had to get a replacement drivers license when we returned home. But we tried not to let the experience ruin our trip.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip – made almost better because I was there with friends solely for fun, not for work! Don and I would love to go back.

Check out more Barcelona photos on Don’s site.

Got a Barcelona tip you’d like to share? Tell me below!

Want to read more about my European adventures? Read the reports from Rome and Tuscany!