Flipped off by Dali - 5 days in and around Barcelona
Wherever to begin - I'm back in London after a week on the move. Guess I should start at the beginning...
Left last Tuesday (1 February - already!) for Barcelona under the auspices of attending a conference but really just wanted to go to Spain with my friend. We met up at the airport in the afternoon and hopped a taxi, squinting in disbelief at the sun and relative warmth - welcome to the Mediterranean!!!
Checked in at the Hotel Colon (I don't have accent marks on here, but rest assured that it is pronounced like "Cologne" and not like an intestine) - a very nice, not cheap but reasonably priced hotel right in the heart of the old town. Indeed, I had requested a "room with a view" and our comfortable room had double doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the Cathedral square - so lovely! All pedestrian, and although the Cathedral is being renovated and thus is wrapped in scaffolding, it was still very beautiful and laying in bed on a rainy Sunday morning with a cool breeze drifting through the doors and church bells pealing - well it was just magical!
We soon set out to wander the alleys of the Barri Gothic - narrow, winding alleys with cobbled streets and plants and laundry hanging from the balconies above, and little bodegas and shops tucked away - so old European... We ended up at a tapas bar at about 6.30 pm where we munched on Calamari and other yumminess, all washed down with a pitcher of sangria. A good start...the restaurants didn't really get hopping until about 10 pm though, so for a while we were the only ones there. We left after an hour or two, wandered around some more, and then ended up at the Margarita Blue where we had some nachos (they didn't seem to understand "salsa" there - isn't pico de gallo red???) and some wicked good (and strong) margs.
I was finally able to unwind a bit (self examination time here:), at which time I realized how bloody uptight I've become over the past few months. Maybe it's because I've been on my own so much and had time for the 'deep thoughts' about what I want from my life and whom I want to be and so on and so forth...I think depth perhaps doesn't suit me and that I was a much happier camper before. So, whereas my uptight motto for 2005 was "Garbage In = Garbage Out", a call to culture, my updated motto is "Less Thinking, More Drinking". I'm sitting here now with a bottle of Spanish Rioja in honour of my revelation, and so far so good!
Staggered back to the hotel through randomly guessing turns in the alleys (the perfect travel partner is one who is content not to look at the map in her pocket even when you say unconvincingly - "no, no map - don't worry - I'm sure we'll find it - let's try this way...").
Awoke on Wednesday to...more sun! Did need our winter coats, but not to be fully bundled up. Now, Alys is living in Vienna (land of -cold-) and I in London (land of -cloud-) so we were both quite idiotically smiling and sighing as we walked down the street, feeling our backs get warm from the rays... ah! We decided to loosely follow one of the moderniste walks laid out in the guidebook and set off back into the alleys where we found a great and oh-so-cheap breakfast of coffee and toast and jam for 3 euros for both of us.
Then we walked the streets of Barcelona for the day, about 4 km in all, I guess. The buildings are just gorgeous - Gaudi and others...so much detail and artisanship just casually on the streets. Most of the buildings that caught our eyes were not even listed on the tour as such. There really was a focus on making the building almost as a functional sculpture - a true work of art with theme and meaning and color. We went inside the Casa Batllo for a "quick tour" and ended up staying about 2 hours. Again, the use of color in the stained glass and in the tile work were beautiful and the engineering was impressive too, with natural sunlight in every room (of a five storey townhouse!) and ventilation systems built into the walls and windows. The courtyard had tiles that got lighter on the way down even as windows got larger to account for the diminished amount of light that would filter down. The glass panes that insulated from the courtyard were cut so as to create not only privacy (to protect from peering into windows across the way) but also the effect of being underwater...you'll see one of the pictures. I could go on, but should you go to Barcelona, definitely pony up and go inside - it's so worth it. I've never heard the word "undulating" used so often in describing architecture!
We walked some more and, as it was snack time, ended up at one of the Kleine Pause recommended in the (german) guidebook (I just like the name "Kleine Pause" - small break) - this really mod tortilleria called Flash! Flash! Man - was that place coool baby, yeah! It was all done in white - leather banquettes and tables and plates, etc. and on the walls were these paintings of a mod-chick photographer with light sconces where the flash would be. We really dug it - Austin Powers must have been there somewhere...
I don't remember much what we did after that, but I believe a taxi to the hotel and a siesta were involved. I reallly dig the siesta. We then visited our Cathedral and wandered to the 4 Cats, which is the restaurant/cafe where Picasso had his first exhibit. Had a fabulous dinner, and even better bottle of wine, and then topped it off with what has become known as the Orgasmically Choclately Churro - which are these pastry like things that you dip in a mug of molten chocolate. I'm still quivering...
Thursday: I had to go to boring-ass conference at this Hilton in the business district 20 minutes from anything interesting. When I made my brief escapes out of the hotel during breaks, I could tell how sunny and gorgeous it was. Rowr. Alys went to the museum complex up on the hill and the pictures she took look gorgeous, so I'd recommend that as well. Damn work (but since they funded this little adventure, I guess I should chill a bit). Alys met me at the hotel after the conference (bless her) for a much needed strong Gin & Tonic. After shedding the effect of bankers and financiers, I was ready for the world again and we headed back down to town to the Placa del Pi for a stop at a renowned ho-cho place called Dulcinea - yum! I love getting dessert first. Then we went to a place recommended in the book for it's long-standing Barcelona status and damned fine roast chicken. I forget the spanish name, but it boiled down to the two snails or something. Apparently, the escargot there are quite well regarded as well, but we couldn't muster the stomach for that (especially amongst the snail pictures on our plates and the snail shaped bread rolls...) which is good because we couldn't do justice to the 1/2 roast chicken which was the absolute best I've ever had - so flavorful and good! And more great wine, too, of course.
At this point, I made the decision to forgo day 2 of the conference in favor of a more detailed market tour of Barcelona. The justifications that I came up with were inventive to be sure, but my priorities were confirmed to be well-placed when we returned to the hotel room and I found some bitchy-ass email from my boss and another that pissed me off from some co-workers (Just picture Jerry Seinfeld's "Newman!" and you get the idea). Well, screw them, I'm in Spain suckas.
Woke up Friday. Sunny. Headed up to The Ramblas (the main shopping and so forth street) to a Dunkin Donuts that we had spotted the night before. Total score - the donuts weren't bad but the coffee they gave us was some sort of espresso and not the Garelick Farms-crack-laced-cream and mountain of sugar coffee regula of good ol' Boston (Alys hails from Plymouth so she knows from her DD coffee) still, it was very satisfying - they even had munchkins!
We headed up to Monjuic, the mountain to the south of town where there is a huge castle and fort and then a cable car ride down over the harbor. We had the taxi driver going up and up the hill - and rather confused as we found out later why. We got out at the castle and had a walk around the fort (probably about 2 km?) which overlooks the Med and the entire city of Barcelona - beautiful again! And then we went to hop the first of two cable cars down to find...it was closed. Hm. So we walked about 20 minutes down the hill to the other cable car which was mercifully operating. It was pretty cool 10 minute ride in this gondola flying off a mountain and over the city and harbour. I love rides...especially with a view! We landed and were going to head for paella in the fishing village of Barceloneta but the timing was off and we wanted to see the Sagrada Familiga before it closed so we hopped a bus up to that area of town.
The Sagrada Familiga is a cathedral designed by Gaudi that is still actually under construction. I didn't realize that they were still building cathedrals! It's been underway for about 100 years and they hope to have the outside finished by the 100th anniversary of Gaudi's death...in 2026! Very trippy, though - the cathedral spires look like honeycombs, I guess, but it reminds me most of when you'd squeeze wet brown sand through your fist at the beach to make sand castles and stalagtites. We then hit a minor food coma and photographic breakdown and retired for a refueling stop - plus they were closing soon anyway. Then we went shopping!
More siesta (and a much needed foot bath and change of shoes para mi, who was getting a bit cranky). Then back down to Barceloneta for the much-anticipated paella (yep, more wine) which, to be honest, wasn't all that. The shrimp and crayfish were large and, well, eyed. I prefer my food to have the heads removed before serving...but Alys kindly pulled the tasty meat from the little buggers (which I know she didn't fancy doing either) and with our big apps of mussels marinara (YUM!!!) and calimari (yep - also a YUM!) we didn't end up eating much and got a special guilt-stop from the chef. Oy.
Then dawned Saturday - day of the rent-a-car and trip outta town. Not such a smooth day, I'm afraid. First, taxi driver didn't know where to drop us at the airport for the car and we had to hike around, only to get stuck behind a group of 20 or so British snowboarder slackers at the Hertz counter. 30 frustrating minutes later, we were in our lime green kia (cute - like a little lime!) and on the open road, with me driving stick, no less! We pointed ourselves at Montserrat, a monestary in the mountains west of Barcelona. This landscape was the most surreal I've ever experienced - kind of deserty plants and stone with some brushy trees as well, but it is the shape of the mountains, like narrow bulbous fingers, that most struck me. We got there in time to hear the boys choir sing (beautiful, again) and then wandered for a bit. My stick driving hit a bit of a challenge and I laid some rubber on the way out ("I can still smell it burning" - Alys), but leave it to me to peel out of a monestary with people staring at the stupid american. Ah!
After a brief debate about the merits of trying to drive to Andorra and France (3 countries in one day!), we decided to ambitiously set out for the small town of Figueres, noted only for the fact that Dali lived there. It was about 2 hours away, but we were game, and off we went - arriving actually with little problem save that we were wicked hungry as there was relatively little in the way of places to stop for a quick bite along the way. So we drove around the 2 horse town 3 times to find the museum, parked and were going to hit the museum cafe - ah, but they didn't have one. I walked in and asked...instead the woman pointed at a cafe across the square where we went instead for a grilled cheese and coke/coffee. The Dalicatessan (yep, for real!). We didn't linger that long, I promise, but apparently 5 minutes too long because when we walked back across the square, the museum doors were locked - even though it didn't close for an hour, they had stopped admissions. Think the lady at the counter could have TOLD ME THAT? I was kind of stunned but Alys was pissed. I don't think it helped that I soon started kind of laughing - I mean how absurd is that? We drove 2 hours to the middle of nowhere, walked in and out and now were denied because we needed a coke? Walking along the roof over the door were statues of people carrying what appeared to be baguettes on their heads. My thinking is that Dali's statement is that people put food paramount, above matters of the mind. I told Alys that I believe Dali is pissed that we wanted to eat more than see his museum and in response he was giving us the finger. At that point, I shit you not, 50 billion birds started swarming overhead. People in the streets were all looking up and I and several others had our camera out. I thought there was just one ginormous flock, but then we walked around a corner and looked out over the hills and there was just swarm after huge swarm of birds. That we didn't get pooped on was amazing, but I was totally freaked. And Alys was still pissed about missing the museum. Then we had to do about 20 ridiculous turns and reroutes to get the hell out of that town. I'm never going back there.
The absurdity continues as we decided to drive the "scenic coastal route" back down to the mideval town of Girona for dinner. No coast was in sight, just flat land and desolate small towns where we ended up inadvertantly in a Carnavale celebration - following the measly road to la'Escala, we found ourselves behind a Pirates of the Carribean float and another float in front of that. We were the 3rd car in a 2 car parade. If only I had my "da da da" tape...
Sunday dawned...wet. Rainy. And, since we were leaving in the afternoon, sad. The church bells tolled and were mournful, but we had plans to see the Picasso museum, free on the first sunday of the month apparently, we were not the only people privvy to this info. The line stretched for more than an hour and we knew we had to abandon hope - and then the traditional dance that is supposed to take place in our cathedral square did not occur due to the torrential rain that soaked us as we slumped back from the museum line. Gar.
Which is not to say that the last two days were not good, because they were - just so lovely. We took the wierd stuff and disappointments in stride and washed them down with wine. Many - in fact, most people would have gotten thrown and irritated and let the lack of smooth perfection ruin their day or at least infect them, but we shrugged off what we could and laughed off the rest - a bad day in Spain is still better than a good day sitting at home, particularly when you're with a great friend. The perfect travel partner makes all the difference, I tell ya...
Believe me, there's a lot I'm leaving out...the Placa Real, the orange room restaurant that we couldn't seem to get in just for a drink, Sant Iu... I shall definitely return!
