I bought Frenchy a 4th-hand road bike for his birthday (previous owner: Ian, prior to that, our IESE professor Franz, who had already bought it used) and we've been psyched about getting out for a long weekend ride. Unfortunately, due to either weather or travel, that has been impossible since his birthday. So our road bikes sit patiently and wait.
But last night we agreed that today would be the day. Despite the heat, we would go out and ride, no matter what.
Of course, when we woke up this morning it took a while to actually get moving, but soon we had donned our really sexy bike shorts and were ready to roll. Then my cycling shoes started making weird noises. I kid you not. We unscrewed the clip plates, couldn't figure out what was rattling or why, and put them back together and were again ready to go. Then I noticed my tires were soft. I called down to Frenchy, who was already downstairs waiting for the elevator. (Mine does not, figuratively or literally, go to the top floor.) He confirmed that he could use some air too.
So we went about pumping the tires. Mine took about 3 minutes. For whatever reason, Frenchy's took about 40 minutes and a lot of sweat. So by the time we were actually ready and outside, it was already 12:15. And we were supposed to be at Moncho's Marina for a paella with Nani and several others at 1:30.
Never mind, we headed off north along the water and got all the way to Badalona, where we realized that if we stopped at home before lunch we'd most certainly be very late. So I called Nani and informed her that we'd be arriving with our bikes (and no locks for them) and in our really sexy outfits. I figured we'd be eating on the terrace as we usually do and thought no one would really mind.
So when we arrived and found out we were actually upstairs in the dining room, where people were dressed quite normally (and in some cases very nicely) for their Sunday lunch... well, I sat down as quickly as possible. We stashed our bikes in the employee bathroom so they wouldn't be stolen (nicest waiters in all of Barcelona, clearly) and stuffed ourselves with paella.
The ride back home was a bit... slow. But we made it nonetheless and proceeded to pass out in a post-paella siesta until it was time to head over to Kris and Gemma's to watch the match. And... YAY ESPANYA!
So now it's 12:30... It's still mega hot outside. And, incidentally, inside. And sleep isn't likely tonight. Everyone in town seems to be outside, yelling, honking car horns, shooting off firecrackers.... Tomorrow should be a national holiday anyway!