The Boys' latest avoidance of Thanksgiving Dinner is a visit to Barcelona. It's not that we don't like the Norman Rockwell imagery, it's just that there's always SOMEONE at every family Thanksgiving dinner spreading disease that, ultimately, ruins the rest of the holiday season.
Hard to believe that it’s already Saturday evening and that we’ll be back in Cincinnati in less than 24 hours. We spent our last day simply walking the streets of neighborhoods (yes, in the sun, as always). Barcelona is a city to be savored. The locals are intensely proud of what they have and love showing it off. It helps that what they have is, not only spectacularly situated between peaks and the sea, but filled with such spectacular art. Everywhere…absolutely everywhere you look there’s something interesting and beautiful to see.
This evening, we headed back to the Magic Fountains in front of the National Museum of Art on Montjuic. Each evening, beginning at 7, these fountains (originally built for the international exposition of the 20s) come to life, synchronized to light and music (everything from Puccini to Prince…with, and this is the ABSOLUTE TRUTH, a bit of Nancy Sinatra thrown in). It was as mesmerizing as a spectacular fireworks display.
In a special nod to the Fluenz program…I felt comfortable enough walking up to a stranger and asked him to take a photo for us (in Spanish, and ever-so-politely). It was the perfect end to a perfect trip. Barcelona, we’ll be back.
We went back to the Boqueria to see it in full gear—full of locals shopping for food. The place was jammed—but the merchants take their time to describe their fruits, vegetables, mushrooms (dozens of varieties), meats and fish (countless varieties, again). There is no place more dangerous than between an 80 year old woman from Barcelona (with her pull cart/trug) and her favorite vendor. Trust us.
If you get to Las Ramblas early enough, it’s only half-filled with its daily mob. You also get to see the bird-sellers begin to open their stands…uncovering the VERY LOUD birds that have been left in the stand overnight.
It seems that Barcelonans love to dress up in costumes. There are costume shops all over town. This window shows seasonally-appropriate theme-wear. I can’t count the times that we’ve been in search of a set of ‘Magi’ at home, only to be disappointed. Apparently, it’s very common here.
We couldn’t miss the Museum of Chocolate. Who would? It wasn’t much of a museum (more of an opportunity for local chocolatiers to showcase their annual ‘competition pieces’), but it was cheap, fun—and you received a chocolate bar rebate with admission. Nothing says religious fervor quite like a Pieta in chocolate:
The City Park (Ciutadella) is the perfect place to spend a sunny day. (all days being sunny, you can enjoy yourself anytime) Wild, brightly colored, and VERY LOUD parrots swoop from tree to tree. You have to wonder if they’re actually natives, or escapees from the shops on the Ramblas. The park is dignified, very orderly and beautiful. Then, there is this example of restraint:
Once again, half of the traveling party seems to think that a small, vacant lot next door to us at home could accommodate something like this.
After another leisurely lunch of paella (with fresh tuna, fresh peas, green beans and cauliflower) at La Gavina—overlooking the yacht basin—we were off to the aerial tram across the harbor and up to Montjuic (the wind had died down).
After another short coma, it was off for a night of some tapas—this time at a place called Euskal Xtapella. I can’t swear to it, but Xtapella may be hat—in either Catalan or Euskal(Basque). Whatever it means, the bites were terrific. The atmosphere fun and exciting. The perfect cap to a long, long day.
I haven’t blogged since Tuesday, so before I forget, I have some observations. On Wednesday we saw two churches, the Picasso museum and the beach, known as the Barceloneta. The first church which is the cathedral has about 30 small altars all created by individual guilds. Each one of these in an American church would be extraordinary. Here they are nothing special and much of the decoration is in drastic need of a good dusting. We took an elevator to the roof for a panoramic view of the city. There was scaffolding allowing you to walk above the crest of the roof. Very cool. The second church, the basilica of Santa Maria del Mar is less ornate but has some of the most beautiful stained glass windows we have ever seen. I am sorry we could not get more than a couple of pictures of some of the most beautiful windows but the sun was shining so brightly that the pictures were too washed out . The Picasso Museum is very small but it had a great special exhibit showing the parallel work of Picasso and Degas. Picasso, it seems to me. was so talented that traditional art was no longer a challenge to him or he just got lazy. Who knows? The beach was very nice. It was a bit chilly in the shade, but if I had a beach towel I would have tan today. On Thursday we went to the national museum on Montjuic, a truly world class art collection in a stunning building. We tried to take the cable car back but it was closed due to strong winds. The entire museum complex is left over from the 1929 world exhibition and has an a system of fountains which cover the entire side of the mountain. Beyond the museum is the Olympic park and stadium where they now play soccer.
We have had some great food. Wednesday night we ate at “4 Cats” the first restaurant to display Picasso’s work. They had a piano player who ended every song with a flourish and who received frequent applause.He played only American music: “ New York,New York”,”It’s a Wonderful World”,”In the Mood” etc. The back dining room where we were, is surrounded by a catwalk with dining tables. Our first course was meat filled cannelloni with truffled cream sauce. You get the idea. We ate like high society types. A fine meal at the museum today and tonight we had great tapas. Barcelona is to the Brits like Hilton Head is to Cincinnatians.There are lots of Brits here for the warmer weather and tropical atmosphere and most are well behaved. Some like the one who screamed:”come back here you p-----“,outside of the restaurant tonight, are not. It really is nice when you realize the drunk claiming the waiter cheated him is not an American. I hope you had a great turkey day. Gotta go. My favorite show-“Bauer Sucht Frau”i.e. Farmer seeks a Wife” is starting on German television . It is as great as you would imagine.
Since today is Thanksgiving and we couldn’t watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (or as heard on the street just today, “we’re missing the Macy’s Day Parade”), we decided to start the day with a tour of the Palau de la Musica Catalan. We have no pictures of the interior to show you, as cameras are forbidden…the private ownership controls exactly what non-visitors can see and how much they’re going to have to pay to see it. The Catalan music society, Orfeo Catala, built the palace as a rebuttal to the Liceum Opera House, which they viewed as, not only aristocratic, but—far worse--Castillian-speaking! There’s more stained glass here than has ever been assembled together. The ceiling (total coverage with a huge, three-dimensional sun in the center), as well as both side walls--stage level to the ceiling covered with stained glass. Add to this, brightly glazed, carved ceramic ornamentation on every solid surface and you get a feel for the subtlety of the place. Half of our traveling party thinks that we could do the stained glass ceiling somewhere at home. The other half isn’t holding his breath. We had the additional treat of being there during an orchestral rehearsal…and, in spite of all that glass, pretty extraordinary acoustics. Here are a couple shots of the exterior—one, the mosaic dating to 1908, the second, a very contemporary addition—the ticket booth (the old booths were too small to accommodate computers).
We then headed up to Montjuic to have a little look-see. It’s your run-of-the-mill mountaintop next to downtown, featuring the national museum of art, Miro museum and, of course, an Olympic stadium. We spent the rest of the day touring the absolutely unbelievable collection at the National Museum of Catalan Art. Since it’s Thanksgiving and you should have a huge meal in the middle of the afternoon before lapsing into a coma, we ate at Oleum, the ‘fine dining’ option at the museum…and it truly was. The only thing that eclipsed the food was the view—across the cascading waters and ‘magic fountains’ to Placa Espanya and all points north. There was no pie at all on the dessert menu. Come to think of it, there hasn’t been pie all week. Apparently, the Catalans are not pie-people.
The Catalan language code has been cracked. It seems that every fourth word is French and every sixth word, while in Spanish, simply has been cut to one syllable…and multi-word expressions split the difference…good day is bon dia. Three is tres(Spanish) and eight is huit (French). There you have it.
Today, we explored the churches and streets of the Barri Gotic and El Born. The churches (the Cathedral and Santa Maria del Mar) glittered with gold and some VERY impressive stained glass The latter is a very trendy, artsy part of the city. You can tell this because all the young people are all wearing skinny jeans and look like they could be walking the streets of Northside--albeit with a scarf tied fashionably about their neck ( a scarf that would be hiding a tattoo if they were actually FROM Northside). BTW, day three and we’ve yet to see a tattoo—they must be under those scarves. El Born is also the home of the Picasso Museum—which, sadly, had half of the collection closed due to some construction issue. What there WAS, however, was wonderful—especially a temporary exhibit comparing the works of Picasso that were specifically influenced by the works of Degas. This show may be headed to Boston after its run here and would be well worth a visit.
By the middle of the afternoon, it was time for lunch, so we headed out onto the peninsula called Barceloneta and had paella at a place called Can Majo. It may have been the great seafood, dining in the sun, the beach—all of 50 feet from us, but this was the greatest paella ever. Maybe it was the wine. Barceloneta’s streets run parallel to the beach—each block being what appeared to be one apartment wide. If you are three blocks from the beach in Barceloneta, you are less than 100 feet from the sand. Of course, you wouldn’t be able to SEE the beach from the window of any of the apartments because all of the city’s laundry is hanging on the balconies here.
The bonus of being here this week is that it’s the week before elections. There’s a very serious separatist movement here—that is surprisingly very right-leaning. Their ads are ugly—including one that features a video game where the player scores points for shooting illegal aliens. I really think that Jan Brewer ran this ad in Arizona. The best quote, to date, about independence was from a Nationalist party-CiU spokesperson, “Sure, everyone says they want independence. I do too. I also want to be thin, but I don’t want to start dieting and exercising tomorrow.”
Spanish-speaking update: It seems that the Fluenz program works. I can actually understand quite a bit of what is being said to us and no one has had to ask me to repeat anything that I’ve said or asked in Spanish. On the other hand, Terry pointed out today that several people have assumed that I was French or Italian because of my hideous accent. If I work at it for another couple of years, I hope to be able to pass as Southern Californian.
Tonight we went to the oldest restaurant in Barcelona,Can Culleretes {1786},run by the same family.We loved this place.Johnnyhad the goose with pears and I had the duck with prunes. This was a “Galli-recommended” place.Who’d a thunk that the salad would have had iceberg lettuce! It was delicious with egg ,white asparagus, pickled tomatoes,olives and that delicious Spanish ham. What was great about this place was that it reminded me of Bacall’s in College Hill. People with kids wearing Barcelona soccer jerseys,elderly people out with their friends,young people out on a date,all casually dressed as though they were eating in a chili parlor instead of one of the oldest restaurants in the world,made this a fun place.
The Sagrada Familia Basilica was truly wonderful.We have seen a lot of churches, but we have seen nothing like this. They are still building it. If you are like me and love going to hardware stores, then you would it fascinating watching the workmen creating one of the most interesting structures in the world. It is like watching the construction of a grand public art project, all on a scale which it seems no one does anymore. Gaudi based his design on nature. The pillars, ceiling and roof are intended to mimic a canopy of trees and “to provide protection from the rain and sunlight”. The sparkling light that shines into the interior truly does remind one of the light you see shining through the trees.Gaudi’s Parc Guell was great fun.If this was in Cincinnati, we would go there all the time.Although there were lots of tourists, the place is so large there are lots of individual secluded spots where you can sit and be by yourself. It must be the case that in some countries,people get a huge tax deduction for taking a thousand photos per day of vacation.There is really is no other explanation for the phenomenon of frenzied picture taking that you see at all the famous places.
It’s hard to imagine a city more devoted to striking architecture. Today, we thought we’d check out the city’s preeminent architectural voice…Gaudi. We also needed to do some walking after last night’s dinner. We went to a place (Asador de Aranda) that featured roast meats. The menu was only in Catalan, but it seemed that the only portion for the table was ‘whole lamb’. This was after we were served their specialty appetizer—a plate of ADDITIONAL roast meats and sausages. Not for the faint of heart…but quite tasty all the same.
La Sagrada Familia was our first stop. We’d seen the pictures and heard stories, but were still completely unprepared for that moment when we emerged from the Metro--and there it was—smacking us in the face. The place is a construction zone—dozens of guys in hard-hats scurrying about and several HUGE cranes spinning about—but, in spite of the activity, you can’t take your eyes off of spires. Sure, at first they look a bit like giant towers of Silly Sand, but the more you look, the more you see the extraordinary detail. The Pope was here a couple of weeks ago to consecrate the place, so it’s now officially a place of worship. You can bet that people have been coming here for decades worshiping Gaudi’s vision and talent. We spent a few hours here and could easily come back for more. We’ve been to many impressive cathedrals, churches and basilicas, but Sagrada Familia defines its own category. The detail EVERYWHERE, inside and out, boggles the mind. We took one of the elevators up a spire—the one lackluster aspect of our visit (it may have had to do with John’s inability to pull his back away from the stone long enough to actually look out a window) and wouldn’t have missed it a bit had we skipped it. So…after 3 hours, Terry hit paydirt:
Since it was early afternoon and we didn’t want to look like a couple of starving tourists eating at the unthinkable hour of 12:30, we headed to Gaudi’s last residential commission, Casa Mila. It was another of those ‘aha’ moments as we left the metro onto Passeig de Gracia and there it was, staring at us. Again, we opted for the audioguide (it’s easier than carrying around a guidebook—and offers far greater insight into any visit) and headed off to view a ‘typical Barcelona flat’ from the early 20th century. Typical? Hardly. First of all, it’s on one of the most affluent streets in the city. Moreover, GAUDI DESIGNED THIS PLACE. Nothing ordinary about it. Absolutely nothing.
After a light lunch of tapas on the Passeig (okay, maybe ‘light’ is the wrong word…what with the tapas of paella, grilled duck and mushrooms on skewers and bacalla—not forgetting the ubiquitous pa amb tomequet), we hopped into a cab and headed to Gaudi’s Parque Guell for some time exploring in the sun rounding out our ‘Day with Gaudi’. Sure, it’s whimsical, especially after having visited Sagrada Familia, but Gaudi’s attention to detail and design is no less prominent. If only we had a vacant lot next door to use some of the stuff from the park.
We’ve been here two full days now and what is readily apparent is that the most common profession in this city is ‘tourist photo prop’. They’re everywhere--a man in a ‘fat suit’ dressed as an over-the-hill flamenco dancer who entices male tourists to pose with him, face pressed between huge latex breast. Star Wars characters. ‘Heads’ of decapitated people sitting on serving platters, just waiting for an unsuspecting victim to get too close.
So, now it’s siesta time again. A guy could really get used to this.
Okay, we made it to Barcelona without incident and, after a day just ‘getting oriented’ , it’s siesta here.Siesta—truly one of the greatest contributions to the world by the Spanish people.It is one of the most civilized customs—and, sadly, one that Americans refuse to adopt.Then again, there was that period in the early 80s when people took a ‘disco nap’ early in the evening before heading out for a night of dancing…but this is about Barcelona.
First, I have to get something off my chest (and we promise not to use this blog as a screed).It’s about image and branding.We’re staying at El Palace.Sounds nice.It is.Then again, it was nice when it opened by Cesar Ritz as THE RITZ over a hundred years ago. So, one has to wonder why they’d forego a century’s worth of name recognition and ‘luxury branding’ that was the very essence of ‘The Ritz’.Perhaps it’s fear of the Marriotts.Who knows, but for some reason, they changed the name to El Palace.So, after arriving very early this morning, we hopped into a cab and I proudly trotted out my new-found Spanish.The driver didn’t bat an eye and took off for downtown.I even understood when he phoned in that he was taking us to ‘The Palace’.Everything seemed to be going fine—until he started to turn off the Gran Via (fortunately, we had looked at a map).In a moment of panic—and completely without thinking, I asked him (in Spanish) where he was going…and he proceeded to tell us (in Spanish) that we were going to a hotel called ‘The Palace’ and pointed off into another direction.After explaining that we wanted to go to ‘El Palace’ ON the Gran Via, he smugly shrugged and said, ‘El Ritz’.Apparently, he didn’t know that the Marriott clan can be vicious.My thought is that, if taxi drivers still call it ‘The Ritz’, any money was spent on rebranding was wasted.On the other hand, it provided an opportunity so see if the Spanish lessons paid off.I can’t swear to it, but I’m guessing that the other ‘Palace’ couldn’t have been nicer than this.
After a short nap (who ARE those people who fall asleep before they leave the US and awake just as breakfast is being served prior to landing?), we were off to explore The Ramblas.This pedestrian-friendly wonder was packed—and this is hardly high tourist season.First came Rambla of the Birds—where, apparently, every child takes their parents to whine until they are bought a pet—most typically, small birds—although the stalls included bunnies, guinea pigs and some large turtles that seemed VERY active.Then again, it might have been the scorching heat lamps that did that.Then came the Rambla of the Flowers.Do you really need to be told what this is?After that we ducked into the Mercado de San Josep—but more widely known as La Boqueria.By now, it was the middle of the afternoon and the place was still jumping—filled with fish, cured meats, fruits and hundreds of people vying for 15 stools so that they could be fed by entertaining ‘counter men’.Having seen the price of figs here—we’re certain that it would make more sense to fly over and buy them, rather then raise them in the future.Back to Las Ramblas...we continued down to the sea and the ColumbusMonument—that spot where Columbus triumphantly returned from the New World with some native Americans in tow.He was treated like a rock star and the native Americans were trotted off to the Cathedral for baptism.Beyond the monument, the floating Rambla of the Sea undulated out into the harbor and their fanciful buoys.
But, now it’s siesta.Hopefully by , we’ll be ready for an early supper.What seemed most evident today was:
This city is all about style and design.Everything, from the airport to the roadways to the inlaid terrazzo of the Ramblas is beautiful—nothing done without design input—and something that they’ve apparently been doing for a long, long time.
When it’s sunny and 62 in Barcelona, the locals break out winter coats.The touring Brits wear shorts.
The pace of life here is wonderful.Taking a long, late lunch is just the thing to put one in the mood to nap.Fortunately, they invented that siesta-thingy.
First of all, you’ll have to bear with us.We’re new to blogging and this won’t be pretty.Be kind and enjoy the ride.
We decided to spend this Thanksgiving in Barcelona.It seemed like every person we spoke with after our trip to Madrid said the same thing, “Are you guys nuts—didn’t you go to Barcelona?It’s unbelievable!” So, it may seem this decision was made to correct the apparent error in our ways, but it was not.We chose Barcelona because V told us to go to Istanbul.In part, we decided to blog about the trip so we wouldn’t have to spend money on postcards and stamps.Mostly, we wanted to do it because V did it.
Since Spanish isn’t among our combined language skill sets, we decided to prepare for the trip by taking a computer-based Spanish course.(Yeah…we know…they speak Catalan in Barcelona.)We chose Fluenz--after reading many reviews and comparisons with Rosetta Stone. It’s addictive.We’re not at all hopeful that the 90 classes that will have been completed by the time we leave will, in any way, prepare us for actually speaking WITH a native-speaker, but we shall see.On the other hand, it has opened up a whole new world to us—Hispanic television.Who knew there was Hispanic Shopping Television? (LLAME AHORA!)
