"Spain on Three Bottles of Wine a Day"

Or was it four? Don't really remember; after the first two, things get kinda fuzzy.

I don't really consider myself a wine drinker but when in Spain, what's a guy to do? First, upon arrival in Barcelona, this guy goes to his favorite martini bar in the world and while this may sound like I've been everywhere, I can assure you I have not; however, I do consider myself fairly "well-traveled" having been in 36 of the 50 states, throughout Europe, to Peru, Dubai and several cities in Canada.

But back to the bar. My favorite martini bar in the world is "Dry Martini" in Barcelona. Why? Because they make great martinis in a vintage atmosphere, where, at any time, I anticipate Humphrey Bogart will saunter on in. The decor is rich with wood walls, great lighting and vibrant art work. The servers, all male, are dressed in white, tuxedo jackets delivering my drink of choice, on a silver tray. Yummy.

On the norm, a great martini, is a hard thing to find in Europe unless you're willing to stay in a very, American hotel in lieu of getting down in there and mingling with the locals and if that be your plan, why travel?, may as well just stay home and check on into a nearby Hilton or Hyatt.

For me, finding a great martini in other parts of the world, is somewhat of a quest. While not on the caliber of an Indian Jones or Laura Croft adventure, it is my, own, little, search for the holy grail.

On more than one occasion, in a full-service bar in Europe - not a pub or wine bar - I have asked for a martini and what came back my way was Martini & Rossi dry vermouth on the rocks. Bitter. At this point, both the drink and I are very bitter.

In keeping with my "I'm not a victim in life" philosophy, after obtaining permission from the bartender, I saunter behind the bar and make my own. It's also at this point, I become a teacher. Anticipating I may pass this way again, more than likely in a day or two, I teach the bartender how to make the "perfect" martini. My best student, Anthony, an Irishmen who, at the time, was part owner of a small, neighborhood bar in the Latin Quarter section of Paris. Thank you, Anthony! Hope you're still shakin' 'em up!

Wine. We still need to talk wine. After getting my martini fix at "Dry Martini", wine became my evening beverage of choice. Well, afternoon AND evening beverage of choice, really, because that's what they do in Spain. Siesta is still a large part of the culture. Most small businesses close, on the norm, between 2 and 5 in the afternoon. What a great time to head back to the hotel for a little wine and nap before heading back out in the early evening, to then return around 8 or so for a little more wine, a shower and then back out the door for dinner at 10, because that's just the way they do it, and I for one, love it!

Fortunate for me, on this, my second trip to Spain, I was traveling with my friend, Micheal, who knows a thing or two about wine. He was purchasing bottles in both large and small markets for anywhere from 2 to 4 Euro (4 to 6 U.S. dollars) that, in the U.S., would cost in the neighborhood of $15. While in Madrid, we went into a full-on wine store where he found an 11.95 Euro bottle that sells for near $50 U.S. At these prices, I succumbed. Wine...good.

In Marbella, along with a knife for cutting cheese and bread, we purchased a couple of wine glasses at what in the U.S., would be a ninety-nine cent store. In the afternoon, upon returning to our hotel, whether in Sevilla; Evora, Portugal; Toledo or Madrid, we would share a bottle of wine while nibbling on amazing cheeses, ham and bread repeating the same process later that evening, add another during dinner and ere go, Spain on 3 bottles of wine a day!

Sadly, the trip only lasted 10 days; however, I anxiously anticipate my return. Maybe not this year but, hopefully, next; I'm sure, by then, my body will be in great need of the detoxifying benefits all that red wine in Spain has to offer!