Barcelona Day 2

Being neither young nor German, I have learned to value downtime in Spain, where I sometimes take a nap, read a book or go down to the beach and stare wistfully at the sailboats on the Mediterranean waiting for a European supermodel to come over and ask me if I’m ok. But I’m spending time with two young German friends right now and their main goal is to ensure that they do not miss one second of the full Barcelona experience. I thought we had hit every “must see” attraction here over the last two days, but they found two more today. I wasn’t thrilled when I first heard today’s plans, but now I’m glad we did it. 

First stop, Casa Batlló. This was an apartment building in downtown Barcelona that was purchased by a wealthy businessman in 1903 because he wanted to live there and liked the location. But he didn’t like the design so he decided to do a little renovating. He hired famous and weird architect Antoni Gaudi to recommend a design idea and Gaudi said something like “I know you basically just want to enlarge the bedroom, but I had a vision once of an undersea world with blue undulating waters and magnificent mysterious sea creatures that may or may not actually exist in reality and I’d like to turn your house into that.” The businessman said “Sure, why not?” And that’s what he did. 

Now the building is a UNESCO World Heritage Site owned by a different wealthy businessman who charges around $50 per person to the enormous crowds who show up every day to walk through it. In the end, I was glad to be one of those people.

But then, the weirder thing, Sacre Coeur. This is one of those classic European churches situated on top of the highest mountain outside of Barcelona with an enormous statue of Jesus with arms outstretched seemingly addressing the entire area of greater Barcelona with his infinite grace and wisdom. Except that somewhere along the line, someone in Barcelona thought it would be a good idea to also build an amusement park there. So in reality, Jesus is addressing a bunch of kids on a Ferris wheel and merry-go-round. I am not going to take the bait that is so enticingly trying to get me to write something incredibly distasteful about being in a Catholic church and hearing screaming children (yes, screaming with happiness, but still . . . ). Regardless, the contrast of a massive Catholic church with a huge Jesus statue on top full of people prostrate in prayer surrounded by popcorn-eating kids waiting in line to get on a roller coaster is alone enough to make the trip worthwhile.

It has both an amazing view of Barcelona and an embarrassing view of families just up for the amusement park.

Tomorrow the Germans will be gone and I can go down to the beach and stare wistfully at sailboats.

Barcelona Day 1

Caroline and Lucas, my friends from Germany, flew to Barcelona so that we could meet up for a few days. Despite having gotten only about 2 hours of sleep on the flight over, I did pretty well with them yesterday and we stayed up past midnight eating, drinking and catching up. They continually complimented my Spanish, which made me feel really good – a feeling that was only slightly diminished by the fact that they don’t know a word of Spanish.

I woke up at 6 a.m. today and, oddly, felt pretty rested. I decided to go for a run and then noticed that it was 9:30, meaning I had fallen asleep for 3 ½ hours while I was deciding to get up and go for a run. I would probably still be sleeping if Caroline hadn’t called me to tell me that they were waiting for the three of us to have breakfast together. 

They’re only here for three days and wanted to see all the Barcelona highlights so it’s been a whirlwind.
Sagrada Familia, check. Montjuic Park, Boqueria Market, the beach, Ciutadella Park, Palau de Musica, check, check, check, check and check.

Tomorrow is our last day together at which point I can resume my typical travel role of sullen loner, something I very much look forward to.

I believe Barcelona is finally running out of new ideas for things to sell to tourists, judging from the duck store and the business that takes high resolution pictures of your iris and then gives them back to you to hang on your wall as a conversation piece. The eye thing doesn’t seem like a terrific idea to me, something that was borne out by the fact that I have never seen anyone in one of those stores.

The Ninth Year of Trips to Spain Begins

Earlier this year Spain passed what it calls an “anti-tourism” law and I saw a recent newspaper headline that read “The Crackdown Begins,” so I figured it was a perfect time to head out there again. Spain is now the second most visited country in the world (ahead of the US and just behind France) and while being overrun with tourists isn’t great, I can imagine some mixed emotions – who wants to be second to France at anything? Even killer whales got in on the act two weeks ago by sinking a 45-foot yacht with a French name* off the Spanish coast. Like those Orcas, I’m going add my name to the list of Spanish tourists and do my part to teach those pompous beret-wearing baguette eaters a thing or two.

There is a very loud, talkative woman directly behind me on the plane who has befriended the woman across the aisle from her and my earplugs can’t drown her out. Not all bad; I’ve learned a lot about my new companion:

1. Ironing clothes on cruises – “Don’t even talk to me about that. I’m not going there.”

2. Weather - “Weather is weather.” 

3. Barcelona plans for tomorrow – “Shirley [the friend in the seat next to her] and I might stay awake all day, or we might take a short nap, or maybe take a long nap, or two short ones.”

4. Interpreting the Spanish announcements on the plane – “That one was something about kids. I’m sure of that.”

I could have listened to her forever but decided to try to find a movie to watch. Most of the descriptions aren’t speaking to me. Like “Prison Flowers – Top Sis was a successful businesswoman who after being framed for embezzlement, is sent to prison. There, she’s given newbie treatment by top dog, Mrs. Ball.” Honestly, I’d rather just read the in-flight magazine. But then . . . “The Shallows – a woman is surfing on an isolated beach and gets stranded twenty yards offshore on a buoy. What lies between her and the shore is a shark.” Now we’re talking. My vacation begins.

And next thing I know . . . 

*The Alboran Cognac