Barcelona Lite

October 2019

We really should have taken the afternoon to rest and recover from jet lag. But we instead went with our rag-tag traveling party of 10 to one of the many markets in Barcelona (the Mercat de Galvany, built in 1868). There we met our guide/cook and her daughter, who bought wine and the makings of paella, apparently the national dish of Cataluña. We watched a fishmonger cut up an octopus; bought fresh tomatoes and crusty bread to make the Catalan version of bruschetta, and looked longingly at some pastries.

From the market, we walked a block to a third-floor apartment (apparently belonging to a friend of our guide). There we were treated to a fine home-cooked meal. The guide and her daughter explained each dish, with a particular focus on paella – each ingredient and each step of the cooking process. We had homemade tapenade on toast and the guide showed us how to use the sliced fresh tomatoes by scraping the cut side across a piece of toast and then pouring a bit of olive oil on it.  She claimed that the olive oils in Spain are superior to any other olive oil and accused Italians of buying Spanish olive oil and repackaging it as Italian oil. We indulged this heresy because we didn’t want to be rude and we were soooooo tired and, heck, maybe she was right!

Our guide and her daughter regaled us with their take on the recent demonstrations in Barcelona over the independence of Cataluña. They stressed that the language, cultures, and history of the region are so distinct that it really never should have been a part of Spain, and that the Spanish government is corrupt and takes far more from Cataluña than it gives back. They also said the Western press had been unfair to the independence movement – indeed, she used the phrase “fake news” to describe the reports in US news outlets.

During this discussion, our guides strongly hinted that they thought our president a buffoon and maybe even a dangerous one. We were quick to tell them that we held the same dim view of the man.

Those of us who had arrived that morning began to nod off, so we adjourned with hugs. The paella was good, the wine (Vina Esmeralda) was good. We had learned that the paella is ready when the pot bubbles slowly, making a “choop choop’ sound (which they spell xup xup.) Our guide led us in a chorus of “xup xups” as we left.

We took a taxi to our hotel, a few blocks from the Placa de Cataluña and just a block off the famous Las Ramblas (or La Rambla) pedestrian mall. We crashed, sleeping a few hours, waking up in the dark, not really knowing what time it was. We finally stumbled from bed and walked to a very nice little tapas bar – Taberna Mil Gritos (“a thousand cheers” or “a thousand screams” – probably the former). The excellent local IPA was a nice surprise.

Our tiny hotel served a generous breakfast, after which we walked to Placa de Cataluña and got on the Hop on/Hop off bus. We rode around for a while, getting off at the justly famous Sagrada Familia church, Gaudi’s architectural masterpiece. We’d been advised to buy tickets in advance for this popular attraction but of course we hadn’t. Turns out we could get tickets for that afternoon, so we did.

Back on the bus, we rode around through the city, not really sure where we wanted to hop off. I wanted to see another Gaudi creation, the Parc Guell, but we couldn’t find it even though the bus supposedly stopped there. Turns out the park is a few blocks from the bus stop, which we would have learned had we but asked the attendant. Missed opportunity for sure!

We hopped off the bus before it completed its circle and started walking more or less in the direction of Sagrada Familia. We stopped for lunch at a nice corner café. I looked for the bathroom but the only door I could find was labeled “Servicia” which I assumed meant a service door (you know, like for staff or deliveries). So I asked and the nice counter person pointed to the Servicia door, which did indeed lead to the bathrooms. I really should have studied that Spanish phrase book more closely.

We walked to the Sagrada Familia after lunch, found the entrance for ticketed guests, and got in line. A minute before entering, a nasty storm – wind and rain and lightning – descended. We had brought an umbrella, so, unlike many hundreds of other visitors, we stayed more or less dry.  The church is spectacular! The self-guided audio tour, using a very clever little wireless device, was a bit hard to follow, but it was very informative nonetheless. We learned many things one would not learn just by wandering around gawking, although the place is definitely gawk-worthy. The esteemed Mr. Gaudi is buried there and the construction crews are still at work.

I was struck by the attention to detail in every aspect of the design. Gaudi was obsessive, sketching every piece of furniture and every pane in the soaring stained glass windows. The massive tapered columns that hold up the roof are just one example: Each pair is a slightly different color of stone and each column gets lighter as it rises; each pair is fluted in a slightly different way. These subtleties are almost lost in the grandeur of the whole – we had to look carefully at things right in front of us at the same time trying to take in the sheer scale of the place.

By the time our visit was over, the storm had passed and the sun was out!

We decided to get on a different Hop on/Hop off bus route, but got lost trying to find it. This is one of the downsides of do-it-yourself travel planning: sometimes you miss stuff, you take a wrong turn, you think you’re wasting time. But we definitely enjoyed our first day and a half in Barcelona.

The next day we used up our Hop on/Hop off tickets, intending to stop and take the cable car from the port up to Montserrat (or was in Montjuic?). But… cable car not running, too windy. We intended to stop at the Miro museum (Fundacio Joan Miro), but….too late, not open. We made a long loop around the city and decided to hop off near the waterfront and walk part way back to the hotel via La Rambla. This worked except for the fact that the route was blocked by demonstrators, meaning we couldn’t hop back on where we wanted to.

But the walk, though longer than planned, was quite pleasant. We found another pedestrian street just a block or two from La Rambla that was delightful and took us past the Cathedral of  the Holy Cross, where there was a classical music group giving a concert on the steps.

I do enjoy these serendipitous happenings! And we still made it back to the hotel in time to pack up, check out, and get a taxi to meet our traveling companions for the next leg of the trip.