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