She stared in awe at the busy street lined with shops, condos and restaurants while the driver arranged for her bags to be carried inside.
So, this is Spain. Discreetly she retrieved her cell phone and took a few quick photos to send to Sheena. She hurried into the hotel where a receptionist was waiting for her with a huge smile.
"Mrs. Wyatt-"
"Miss," Sidney corrected.
"My apologies," the older man said in confusion that he quickly hid. "Welcome to the Hotel San Sebastian. If you'll just sign the registry I will retrieve your key. Your suite is ready for you."
His accent was nice. She liked how the Spanish rolled their Rs. Europeans sounded so classy.
Sidney had called ahead to make sure that anything that made reference to a 'honeymoon' was removed from both the hotel and ship. She had also made sure that she would not be addressed as Mrs. Salinger. One final sting at what would have been her name stabbed at her, because now there was a different Mrs. Salinger and a little baby Salinger…
She swallowed and pushed back the thought, pleased that there were no balloons or images of clinking champagne glasses adorning the door to her suite.
When she opened the door she had to whip out her camera again. It was huge! The entrance led into a living area with a white sofa sheathed in white throws. A chaise was nearby situated in front of a fireplace and an obnoxiously large television set. The room led to a set of French doors adorned by sheer, champagne colored curtains. When she opened the doors, she saw her luggage was there waiting for her in front of a large King sized four poster bed that was also surrounded by the same sheer drapes.
Sidney walked to the bed and ran her hands along the rich silk cream-colored duvet. Pillows were piled tastefully at the head and even though she had been able to lie down on the plane her back craved the feel of a nice big bed.
Sidney kicked out of her heels and then stripped down to her panties and bra. She pulled back the duvet and then jumped into the bed like she was five years old.
"Oh…this is heaven," she murmured. She could have fallen asleep, but she only had one day in Barcelona and she wanted to explore. She went into the five-piece bathroom and decided that instead of a quick shower she would run a hot bath in the Jacuzzi tub.
Sidney luxuriated in the tub until the water-cooled and became tepid. Not once did she think about calls that she'd had to block from Wesley or the letters that she had returned unopened. Today and for the next two weeks, she was a new person.
Sidney dressed a bit more sensibly for her trek out of the hotel. It was June although the weather was mild in the high seventies. She wore stretch jeans, ballet slippers, a button up blouse and a light-weight cardigan. With her hair and make-up in place she felt like a million bucks.
Ready to try the local cuisine, Sidney bypassed the complimentary fruit and bread tray, as well as the well-stocked bar. Besides, she'd had her fill of free champagne during her flight.
In the lobby the same receptionist greeted her and offered to call her a taxi, but she declined. She wanted to explore a little on foot.
Outside she met an older couple that had just stepped out of a taxi and was entering the hotel.
"Hola," they both said, clearly not European as the accent fell flat.
Sidney grinned. "Hola."
The woman smiled. "American?"
"Is my accent that bad?" Sidney replied.
"Well, we're from Missouri," she replied. "Ours is worse."
"We've been trying to master the accent," the man said, "and failing miserably."
"It's something to do with rolling the tongue," Sidney offered.
"You're right." The man waved at her as he and his wife headed for the hotel.
"There's a very nice restaurant a block down this street and they speak English," the woman said gesturing to the right.
"Thanks." They must have read her mind.
As she headed down the street she noted that Barcelona didn't look all that different from a big city metropolis back in the States. There were storefronts where you could buy cheap trinkets. There was a grocery store, a bakery and a clothing store all within a five-minute walk from the hotel.
The streets were busy at just after six p.m. but not overly crowded. She noticed that a lot of people had small dogs that they walked and didn't seem to mind that there were not many places for them to relieve themselves.
She was tempted to stop in some of the shops but felt uncomfortable not knowing the language.
She soon located a restaurant with outdoor seating right there on the sidewalk. She noted that many of the patrons were drinking tall glasses of beer and eating from small plates of food.
Sidney went inside and a hostess greeted her in Spanish.
"Do you speak English?" Sidney asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Would you like a table for one?" The hostess was slender and young and seemed bored. Sidney hid a smile. Some things were the same no matter where you lived—young people would rather be out with their friends than serving some tourist.
"Yes," Sidney replied. "And can I sit outside?"
"Certainly."
She was led to a table that had a candle, which the hostess lit even though it wasn't dusk. She gave her a large menu and placed a table setting in front of her, using the silverware to prevent it from blowing away.
"Your waitress will be here shortly."
Sidney perused the menu, happy to see that beneath the Spanish writing were English translations. Euros were easy to understand. One Euro equaled one dollar…give or take a few pennies.