In which I remember one of the best things of 2009


I saw this link on Rainy Saturday, which got me thinking about what my best trip of 2009 was.

Without a doubt, it would have to be my surprise visit to Barcelona, engineered by the wonderful S, where he surprised me even further by proposing.

When you’re expecting to spend a couple of days in damp West Wales, being whisked away on a plane to a sunny European destination is even sweeter (even if your wardrobe is then woefully inadequate for 25 degree sunshine).

We’d been circling around the idea of marriage for a while, and I had a feeling that the question might be being asked soon.  I wasn’t desperate for it – but equally I knew what my answer was going to be.  The effort that S had gone to for a short, midweek trip was convincing evidence that this was no ordinary European mini break.  On arriving at a beautiful boutique hotel in the Gothic quarter, complete with candle lined corridor, roof top pool and gourmet chocolates, I was further convinced.

After spending the afternoon strolling around the city, sipping San Miguel beer and iced tea, we poured ourselves a glass of cava and went up to the roof top infinity pool.  The views from the top of the hotel were stunning, stretching across the whole of Barcelona.  After a slightly chilly wade across the pool to make sure we’d appreciated the view from all angles, we perched on the edge of the pool, chatting about everything and nothing as we drank our cava, laughing at the pigeons who kept using the pool as their personal drinking fountain.

I remember getting the lift back down from the pool to our hotel room to get the camera and top up our glasses, and looking into the mirror, mouthing to myself, “he’s going to propose!”  I was pretty convinced that this was the time and the place.

It didn’t even cross my mind to put on makeup, or brush my hair, or make myself look better.  I was so caught up in the moment that my appearance didn’t matter.  I know S thinks I look beautiful no matter what I’m wearing or how much mascara I’ve got on, so I didn’t feel the need – didn’t even consider it at all – to make myself look better for what was going to happen.

When it did happen, it surpassed anything I ever thought a proposal would be.  Being proposed to is pretty much a once in a lifetime experience, and it’s never going to happen again with S, so I am so glad that he put such a lot of effort into making it special.  When I remember our two days in Barcelona, they take on a dream like quality.  The memory never, ever fails to make me smile, no matter how down or sad I’m feeling.  I’m always buoyed by the fact that this wonderful man wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and made asking that question so unique.

So yes, my trip to Barcelona was definitely my favourite of 2009.


2 responses »

  1. Pingback: In which there is a venue and a menu but not much else (at the moment) « Postcards from the Edge (of the West Country)

  2. Pingback: In which love blossomed over a fried breakfast « Postcards from the Edge (of the West Country)

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