Tag: Barcelona

From Barcelona to Berlin

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September 23, 2017

4:20 pm

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Travelling

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Casa Batlló – Gaudi by night

We regretted having to leave Barcelona, for a number of reasons. 

The first, of course, is that it is a unique and beautiful city, abounding in spectacular buildings, stylish shops and unexpected moments of delight and discovery. Yet each of us had other, more personal reasons for feeling wistful. 

Courtney mentioned, for instance, that the fast, reliable wifi in our apartment would be a major loss. And it certainly was a pleasure not to have to log in every time our phones locked themselves or wait long periods for a minuscule download.

Linda had enjoyed having a huge Massimo Dutti store right around the corner from our apartment in Carrer de Pau Claris. The stock was constantly changing and the shop itself, quiet and elegant, produced a soothing effect upon her, even after the Geelong Cats’ loss to Adelaide yesterday. As she wrote to me after the one-sided game had finished: “At least my anguish is over.” Massimo Dutti helped her to attain a state of rueful acceptance, while also sending her luggage weight to the maximum and beyond.

Davey also felt at home in our apartment.

Davey’s stolid and abiding state of calm makes regret of any kind rare for him, even when he was thwarted in his plan to buy himself a second pair of slippers in the Gothic Quarter. “How many pairs do you actually need?” I asked him. He ignored my rudeness, but fate was nevertheless against him; the tiny shop where he had hoped to add to his stock of slippers had closed for a siesta on the afternoon of our last day. Many shop-owners roll down their shutters or lock up between about 2.30 and 4.30 every day. What a civilised city.

On the road again

Dwayne, like Davey, is not prone to emotional excess of any kind, but he may drool in memory of the ribs provided at our favourite restaurant, Felice. Since we are flying to Germany, however, where the meat offerings are substantial, if not overwhelming, he should overcome this disappointment. 

Shannon seems to be satisfied with very little. Some sight-seeing and a few shopping forays are all she requires. She may be sorry to leave the tiny winding alleyways behind, all the same, since she managed to find any number of small treasures there, such as a gold necklace and a nightie that could double as a little black dress and turn heads at any nightclub. 

My little home away from home in Barcelona

As for me, I revelled in every aspect of Barcelona and especially in our spacious, tasteful apartment, where, on the first morning, I placed many of my possessions on a little bookcase to make our room feel just like home. Our clothesline was an adventure in itself. I knew that if I was clumsy enough to drop the garment I was pegging out the window, it would plummet 3 floors. It was a pleasure to spread out after a month or so of living out of an increasingly crowded suitcase. 

The other thing we shall all miss about Barcelona are the visual details and surprises. 

Berlin, however, is no slouch in that respect. 

Good-bye, Barcelona…

Final Details:

  • Our Apartment in Barcelona: 176 Carrer de Pau Claris, booked on Airbnb
  • Taxi to the Airport: Our giant taxi took all 6 of us plus our luggage (for 30€). It was booked through AMB – Àrea Metropolitana de Barcelona.
  • Weather Change: Maximum temperature in Barcelona, a balmy 24 degrees; in Berlin, 16 degrees with steady rain from dinner onwards

Suffering Feet in Barcelona

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September 21, 2017

9:06 pm

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Travelling

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Parc Güell and the views it provides of the city and the sea

As I plodded up the hill towards Parc Güell, I noticed that I was steadily falling further behind all the other team members. My legs were still obeying my commands, but sluggishly. 

Dwayne had a few choice words to offer on the matter. At our first gathering point, he pointed out: “Since you’ve given up your electric bike, you don’t break team rules any more. You’re always at the back.” 

I would have liked to respond with a witty, crushing remark, but lack of oxygen had turned my brain to mush.

Our Spanish guide at the Park was modest, knowledgeable and, regrettably, fast-walking. He furnished us all with tiny radio earphones, which allowed us to hear him from a distance of 50 metres, even when he spoke softly. The advantage was that we could roam freely within that radius without losing track of what he was saying. So it was that we discovered, as we wandered blithely around the park, that Gaudi considered trees to be his model, that he hoped to blend natural and human-made beauty, and that he loved asymmetry, favouring the curved and the irregular over the standard 90-degree corners and straight lines of most urban environments.

Curving asymmetry Listening to our guide
↑ Curving symmetry ↑Moulded mosaic seats↓

 

Having seen the world through Gaudi’s eyes for an evening at the Sagrada Familia and a morning at Parc Güell, we set off to admire the rest of Barcelona, especially its alleyways and its shops. Despite my stiffening hips, aching knees and tender feet, I consider Barcelona to be the ideal city for the dedicated walker. There are simply so many details to absorb, so many eye-catching people milling around, so much food, wine and art. The beauty of the city is original and quirky, yet also classical and timeless.  Even if you don’t buy anything or go to a specific tourist attraction, you feel as though you are soaking in the whole experience simply by rambling along the narrow streets. 

Both inside and outside…

Evidently the sheer visual delight of looking at Barcelona has a financial value. Yesterday at the square where we had lunch, we observed that we had to pay more in order to sit outside and watch the passing parade. Today at lunch, we sat just inside a lovely little pizza restaurant with tapas as a side offering; we felt as though we were outside, yet without the extra outlay. The sun streamed through the window and even the untalented busker outside could not spoil the moment.

Out walking in the Gothic Quarter Walking with a more serious purpose: young Catalonians protesting their rights to vote for independence

Surprisingly and reassuringly, I find that, even on the days when I walk more than 15,000 steps, the ordeal is manageable so long as I can sit down now and then and give my feet a rest. Nevertheless, last evening, I had reached the stage where I could not bear the thought of going out for dinner. I had collapsed on the bed and, when Davey told me that we were about to start walking again, I began to emit feeble groans. Despite the struggle to get vertical, the dinner, in a little restaurant that Maureen Keogh had recommended, turned out to be the best of the whole trip. The wine flowed and the tapas were delicious. Our waitress was a young woman from Poland who meticulously explained all the details of each course and charmed us with her warmth and friendliness.

A dessert with flair

At the end of the meal, all of my joints were creaking like unoiled hinges and I walked home in a gingerly fashion. For this reason, Dwayne took it upon himself this morning to give me some advice: “Just put one foot before the other,” he said. “It’s called a walking motion.”

Barcelona certainly gives us the best possible reasons to follow that simple advice.

Final Notes

  • Dinner: Felice Bar, Carrer de Francisco Giner 22, 08012 Barcelona
  • Lunch: Via Margutta, Fonollar 2, 08003 Barcelona
  • Step Count: 19 Sept – 23, 327 | 20 Sept – 19,812 | 21 Sept – 14,631

Awe and Disappointment in Barcelona

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September 19, 2017

8:16 pm

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Travelling

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With my honorary niece at the Spanish Village (Poble Espagnol) – we were both resting our weary legs.

After our first ecstatic day in this glorious city, we were brought back to earth with a thud yesterday. Courtney’s hopes for Barcelona and the whole trip were cruelly dashed when she read that her musical goddess, Lady Gaga, had cancelled the European leg of her world tour. The official term was “postponed”, but when you have travelled 16,000 kilometres in the happy expectation of experiencing a musical extravaganza of startling dimensions, you read the word “postponed” as “cancelled”.

This distressing piece of news coloured our whole day. Even Linda found it difficult to concentrate in her favourite shop, Massimo Dutti. Courtney was cast down and so, presumably, were the fans who had begun to sleep outside the concert venue in the hope of gaining a ticket for the mosh pit. 

Rich red colours at the Mercado de la Boqueria

While Linda and the girls continued to shop, Davey, Dwayne and I set off for the food market, Mercado de la Boqueria, which turned out to be crowded, colourful and captivating. The sole disappointment was the bread. After France and Germany, where the bread is varied and tasty, as well as soft and crusty in all the right places, the Spanish bread that we have sampled so far, including the loaves we bought at the market, has been rather insipid and cardboard-like. In our quest to find some decent bread, in fact, we have bought about eight loaves; Dwayne stipulated in a team meeting yesterday evening that we are not allowed to buy any more. In contrast, the offerings of Spanish proscuitto-like ham (jamon iberico), fish and empanados (like mini pasties) at the market were matchless. 

The other disappointments occurred this morning and were caused by lapses of memory and a lack of thorough googling. Arriving at the Sagrada Familia early, we discovered that our tickets were actually for yesterday. Our hearts sank. The patient and kindly doorkeepers promised us a refund, but we had to rebook for the evening at 6 o’clock and were lucky to be able to gain entry to the tower, which is usually booked out days ahead. 

It was necessary to rejig our day completely. We decided to visit the Montjuïc Fountain, only to find it still and quiet, with a worker in hip-high gumboots carrying out maintenance. For a while there, we began to think that there was some kind of jinx on us. 

After we had waited for quite a while, the fountain began to froth and sparkle in the sunlight.

Fortunately, an old man nearby assured me that the fountain would start functioning at 11 o’clock, so we walked up the steps and escalators to the National Museum of Catalonian Art and waited, looking out at the far-reaching view. “This city is so colour-coordinated,” Courtney commented. “A bit like Florence.”

The many facets of Shannon
Shannon gives her feet a break and her thumbs a workout. High on the mountain after our ride up on the gondola Playing peekaboo during one of our numerous escalator rides 

From that point on, our day began to fall into place. The fountain was worth waiting for, a man was singing Spanish songs, and the sunshine cheered us all, although the walks to the funicular railway and the Poble Espanyol (Spanish Village) were strenuous, and the village, while picturesque, was overly expensive and filled with shops sporting signs like “Don’t touch” and “No photography”. So we neither touched nor bought.

The golden light of evening flows into the Basilica.

At the end of the day, as the evening sun streamed through the stained-glass windows of the Sagrada Familia, we entered the Cathedral at last, craning our necks to appreciate the light filtering through the flowing stone, admiring the angles, the curves and the sublime beauty of Gaudi’s design. 

We finished the day with a sense of awe that outweighed all previous disappointments (except perhaps Courtney’s). Barcelona does that for you. 

Warm colours  Cool colours 
Four hundred steps (thankfully only downwards)… …on a spiral staircase that reminded me of a seashell

Final Notes

  • Step Count for Today: 23,327
  • Sweetest comment: Despite her devastation yesterday and the various ups and downs of our day today, Courtney said to me: “I hope that when I grow up and have children, there will be another family with whom we can go travelling. We’re lucky, aren’t we?”
  • Compensation: The evening light in the Sagrada Familia made up for our early morning letdown.
The heaven is in the detail…

 

 

Dazzled by Barcelona

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September 17, 2017

9:31 pm

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Cycling, Travelling

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Barcelona’s dreamy architecture

Barcelona is a feast for the eyes. As we finally emerged from the Metro on the way from the airport to our apartment, we all drew a breath, partially to gain some much-needed oxygen, but mainly in admiration of the scene before us. It was part magical, part medieval, if there is such an architectural style in existence.

La Pedrera

Upon our arrival at our apartment, we discovered that we could actually have come overground in one train, rather than catching three metros. Damn. All the same, that first unexpected, breathtaking view of Barcelona was worth the pain. The buildings seemed to have grown out of the earth, yet somehow they looked just right for a modern city as well – like Bilbo’s hobbit hole with a contemporary, urban flavour, including bright colours, well proportioned curves, narrow shutters and wrought iron balconies. 

There are  pockets of Barcelona that were designed entirely by Gaudi, but the other architecture is also eye-catching and cohesive. I imagine a group of architects who agreed on a design brief before they began their work: “Let’s make something that’s not just functional but heart-rendingly beautiful. People should catch their breath when they see it. They should experience a sense of wonder – or at the very least some moments of pure joy.”

Dazzled by both the sunshine and the architecture in Barcelona

If these were indeed their aims, then they have achieved them. 

We were enchanted as we walked through Barcelona in the crisp early morning sunlight. It was hard not to take photos every few metres. 

Shannon and Courtney had arrived in the dead of night, drained and weary from that foul plane flight. After a single night’s sleep, however, they seemed to have completely recovered. Their eyes were bright in the morning sunshine and their conversation animated. It was a sheer pleasure to listen to their young voices, to hear snatches of Courtney’s music and to observe their enthusiasm for the adventure that lay ahead. They are the perfect addition to our party, for Barcelona, in contrast to Dresden, is teeming with young people – beautiful, active, chic and smart. Just like our two young companions, who, like Barcelona, are a joy to behold.

 

Linda and Shannon at the beach Boats, blue skies and the sea
Is it a home or a castle? Courtney looks forward to seeing her goddess

Final Notes

Details of our Trip from Germany to Spain: No identity check at any stage – we never showed our passports. Davey had to have an interview at the Post Office and show both his passport and his licence to get a SIM card, but he could get on an aeroplane with no proof of identity. Gut-wrenching rush to make our connecting flight. Reached the gate with a minute to spare.

Apartment: Spacious and bright, red accents, not far from La Pedrera. Davey’s find.

Steps Today: 18,864 

Obvious Differences from Germany: More children, especially toddlers, in every public place we visited; more public displays of affection; more trees; better pillows; fewer bakeries, fewer vegetable and salad offerings

One Similarity with Germany: In Courtney’s words: “The shops aren’t open on Sunday? What? Are you serious? You’re kidding, right?”