If we had realised it was Friday 13th May we may never have ventured to Tribidado.
Sir Prancelot was waiting on tables and breakfast was not up to scratch. Leaving the hotel Gertrude was a little confused, subdued even. She didn't rush at every green man and never questioned why we took the metro at Fontana instead of the FCG at Gracia.
We slowly ambled up hill, then down hill, then up and so on and so on until we eventually asked a German tourist for directions. they pointed us back up hill a short walk they said. We decided to go in the opposite direction and found a local bus which would take us to the funicular.