Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. And walk some more. We clocked up a few k's on foot today.

With the intention of getting into the Gaudi cathedral, we headed out of the hotel around 9am with a good 30 minute walk ahead of us. Wisdom suggested that if you arrived early enough you wouldn't have to wait too long, perhaps an hour or two. Wisdom should have suggested that if you don't book your tickets, you won't get in. Thanks very much wisdom!

We got to the cathedral a touch after 9.30am and soon realised that there weren't any queues to worry about, just a crowd of disbelieving ill-informed tourists who like us were not going to get into the cathedral today. 'Fully Booked', read the sign. No amount of "but I'm only here for the day", would make an ounce of difference to the sombre looking security staff standing guard at each of the cathedral entrances.

With nothing left to do but accept our fate, we crossed the road and just sat for a while. We watched the hordes of people and their selfie sticks taking photos of themselves in front of the cathedral, we watched a busker performing on his sax and we also watched the four Potain cranes performing the various tasks needed to finally complete La Sagrada Familia once and for all (by 2026).

The main crane had a prefabricated stone clad, timber backed panel with two or three decorative letters on it suspended on the hook for what seemed an eternity and we were keen to see where it went. We watched as the workers guyed it off at the top of the crane tower and gradually lowered it down, intent on guying it off at all times. It wasn't a particularly large panel from the looks of it, but it seemed as though they were worried about it being caught by the wind and were therefore keeping a very close eye on it. It didn't seem to be very windy so I was at a loss to explain what they were up to. After a good twenty minutes or so of this inactivity, finally we saw some action. The guy ropes were released and ever so slowly we watched as the panel was trolleyed along the crane jib, only to be lowered back down to the ground. How very disappointing!

At that, we decided to move on. The rough plan we'd hatched while seated across from the cathedral was to head back down to the water front via the Arch de Triomphe and then catch the gondola across to the park overlooking the city. We had the intention of hiring bikes to make our journey easier, but it turned out the local bike share bikes are really only geared towards locals, and we found it too difficult to do, so we continued walking.

We eventually reached the waterfront after a further 45minute of walking with a few photo stops along the way, and dodging a couple of drops of rain, we headed to the gondola ticket box and purchased one way tickets.

The trip itself was very scenic, very high, a little shaky and over in only a few minutes which from a value for money point of view is probably geared towards the tourist who is only here for a short time and so will be pay a hefty fee (90 Euros) for the privilege.

Arriving at the other side, we got our bearings and wound our way back through the back streets of Barcelona, keeping the Columbus statue to our right.

After another 40minutes or so of walking we arrived back at La Ramblas and headed straight to the market to get some well-deserved lunch and an ice cream.

Beyond that, it was time for a siesta back at Hotel Turin. We were wrecked. The advantage of having our hotel close to the main drag was that it was easy for us to lob back into the hotel and just chill for a few hours. Wendy had a good sleep while I set about catching up on blog writing and the kids entertained themselves with Instagram. Two whole hours of Instagram. Bliss.

Heading out again around 5.30pm, we made tracks for the old town, seeking somewhere to celebrate the last official night of our amazing holiday.

We found just the places. We started with a couple of drinks at a classic little cocktail bar, manned by a couple of cool guys who knew how to make cocktails. Wendy and I both had a couple of mojitos each, while the kids shared a non alcoholic one and a sparkling water or two.

We then went in search of somewhere decent to eat dinner. Courtney inadvertently found the answer. She stood outside a restaurant, of which there are hundreds, and quite liked the menu. We agreed and went in to see if we could get a table. You know you've got a good one when they turn you away, and this was at 7pm. Most people in Barcelona don't eat till 9.30pm at the earliest.

Fortunately, the restaurant was connected to another couple of similar restaurants all within a 5 minute walk. In a few moments, the French hipster waiter from one of the sister restaurants came and got us and took us to our dinner spot for our last night in Europe.

The food was outstanding. With a play on the Spanish tapas but with a slightly modern twist to the menu, we enjoyed Spanish casserole and seafood paella, both served in mini dishes for sharing, sliced octopus, potatos bravas with an interesting fennel flavour and spicy dipping sauce and zucchini tempura. The dessert was amazing, with Courtney and I going for chocolate fondants which were delectable, Mitchell had his first tiramisu and Wendy enjoyed a caramel cheesecake. Our French hipster waiter continued to provide us with outstanding service and even threw in four lemoncello shots to finish off the night, which Wendy and I commandeered in lightning speed.

And so our trip was nearly over. We concluded with a pleasant stroll through the unrelenting Barcelona crowds back to our accommodation, buoyant with the heady glow of a really good night out (plus a few drinks).