Barcelona Pleasures

MAJ545 found the lack of food mentioned a little disconcerting since we had some fabulous food. Go figure that this is the guy that used to meet me at crazy early hours to run or do some crazy weight workout at the gym- right?

But he's right. I would be leaving out a huge portion of the culture/local feel if the sangria and tapas we devoured enjoyed weren't mentioned so I offered him to guest write. Below is his account...edited only when needed to meet the requirements of E' un po' come's posting requirements. Enjoy!

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Every city/country/region has its own flair.  That certain something that makes it unique and colorful and when looking back on its memories makes you reflect…ah yes that is it.  While living in Belgium I discovered I wasn’t too particularly fond of the location (cold, dark, flat farmland, failed industrialization), or of the natives (Walloon, French), but what made it unique to the other countries of Western Europe was its beer and chocolate.  Both were fabulous and when I travel abroad I look for those small unique qualities that set it apart from its peers.  In Paris it was the food and bad attitudes.   Rome was the pizza and wine.  The U.K. had plenty of horse racing and “make yourself welcome” appeal.  So what was it about Barcelona that made it unique?  The architecture has been discussed in detail by Katie so I won’t bore you with that but I must caveat that after staying there, Barcelona is straight Gaudi not gaudy.  Where I want to expand upon is the food and drink.  

Since we were in Spain I insisted, with no hesitation or disagreement from Katie, that we have sangria.  I’ve never had it before and was quite excited when we picked up our first fishbowl of it under the signage of Hooty the Owl.  I’m not kidding.  Hooty the Owl lives in Barcelona.  Being this was my first sangria, and I’ve become a wine snob living in California, I was first taken back by the ice cubes floating in my fruit filled wine.  But when I tasted it, it was all good.  It was the perfect refreshment after hiking along the streets all day, and a great compliment to sandwiches and tapas (nothing worth noting, standard pub type grub).  Not too sweet wine filled with ice and fruit slices of lemon and limes.  It was picture worthy as some of you may have already seen.  Originally arriving with a straw, that was discarded immediately if not sooner; I quickly located the bottom of the glass while it ran down the back of my throat.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh tasty!

Our second exposure to sangria came after an hour of hiking along the water.  We were attempting to make our way along the shore and piers to Katie’s yacht which happened to be parked across the bay (it had to be over 100’ long and 5 stories tall), when we were ushered into a small fish house overlooking the water that promised to feed us well and get us along with the night.  First impressions were good.  We didn’t speak the language but hand and arms signals, and the waiter’s broken English seemed to work well.  That’s how Katie was offered a whole raw fish on a plate that looked at her longingly.  But that wasn’t what I wanted, nor did she, but that’s neither here nor there.  Since I was in Barcelona I felt that paella was a must and it must be eaten with sangria.  So both were ordered and I waited eagerly for their arrival.

Unbeknownst to me Katie was eye-locked with something above my head.  When I turned, I found several legs of pig (still clovened) hanging just behind me with small white plastic thingies stuck in them.  I was glad they were in there, because it turns out those catch random juices that leak from the legs while they are curing above your head.  I can only imagine the market for those things and how they had to develop.  

I digress…the sangria arrived.  I was a bit disappointed with the size of it upon arrival, but figured I was in a touristy area and not worry.  But then I tasted it and was not as happy with it as lunch time’s version.  Katie felt the same but then dinner arrived and we focused on our meal.  Now this was my first time eating paella and I was excited by the bounty in front of me.  Shrimp, muscles, prawns, rice … things I couldn’t identify, all of which looked and smelled great.  Well you know what they say about books and covers…yeah it was like that.  The seafood was way overcooked and the rice tasted like pure seawater.  Now anybody that knows me and has eaten out with me knows that I refuse to leave a full plate or even a partial plate of food.  Not the case here.  I couldn’t plow my way through it and the substandard sangria couldn’t wash the taste down enough.  So unfortunately it was an epic fail on my part.  Katie ordered the grilled cuttlefish, which I only had a semblance of its existence from the manipede episode of Southpark,  It looked tasty and Katie enjoyed it thoroughly.  Unfortunately the visit put paella in a bad light for me and every time I saw it on a menu (which was everywhere) I thought badly of it.  Too bad, someone will have to come along one day to fix that for me but for now…no more paella for this guy.

The culmination of our time in Barcelona was complete with a great meal and wicked awesome sangria.  As part of our A.D.D. wondering of the streets, I credit Katie for finding the coolest little restaurant in the middle of an ally that we happened to stroll down.  Yes we strolled, since walking is difficult when your face is skyward most of the time.  This little place, which I have no idea what its name was so I’ll call it that little place in the alley, was fantastic.  We arrived close to nine at night and got a cozy (i.e. really close to our neighbors) table and checked out the menu.  I spotted my elixir of choice and ordered up 1.5 liters of sangria (equivalent of two bottles of wine).  My thoughts on ordering so much were simple; with the addition of ice and fruit, wine is pushed out so you have to make that difference up by ordering more.

It arrived in a crock jug, something perfectly suited for a homey little place and it was gloriously sweet and smooth with a nice citrus flavor from the limes and lemons.  We noticed that Barcelonian sangria didn’t get too fancy with its infusions of various fruits like apples, or grapes.  They kept it to the two fruits mentioned before.  Both Katie and I agreed this was by far our favorite version.  I only wished I knew what kind of red wine they had used, guess I’ll just have to ask next time.  But when the sangria was poured all was good in the world.  We had a delightful dinner of tapas choices followed by a main course.  We each had different tapas and since we both have quite different palates, there wasn’t the awkward questioning of sharing our food.  I’m not even sure what we had, but I do remember they were all cooked/prepared perfectly and I would order them again in a heartbeat…something along the lines of sausage, shrimp, roasted red peppers and something dipped in pesto sauce.  It escapes me a bit now, so I know Katie will yell at me for not writing this sooner.  :D  When ordering, I was a little annoyed when I found out the British guy next to me had chosen the last of the rabbit, but I conceded and had a nice steak followed by some tiramisu.  Yes I know it is Italian, but it happens to be my favorite desert of all time and I couldn’t resist.  Especially since Katie didn’t want dessert but was included with dinner so she ordered the flan and handed it over to me.  Score!  

As you may have guessed the sangria was still going down while we ate dinner and this is the only time I will ever say this but I actually wished there was more ice in our crock.  The restaurant had used very little which is good and bad.  Good because we had more of the good stuff but bad because with the just the two of us drinking it took quite a bit of time to get it all down and it was a tad warm by the time we got to the bottom.  Undeterred from our task of completion we overturned the entire crock into our glasses, paid our bill and walked along the street called La Rambla home, at an angle, while dodging street performers and illegal beer sellers.  Then we completed the night with second desert and had some Belgium chocolates, at least I did, that I brought down with me.  I escaped with some Italian coffee thrown at me and knocked out for a couple of hours before making the trip to the airport, an adventure in and amongst itself, and headed back north to the land of chocolate flavored beer.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Katie for allowing me the opportunity to write this portion of her blog.  She was quite hesitant to allow an “outsider” to relive her memories, but since we shared them together I was granted an exception.  I just hope that I have done them justice and haven’t ruined this opportunity for anyone else hoping to be published on this page.  Thank you Katie, also, for such a wonderful weekend.  Hanging out with you is a joy and effortless and since we are both extremely A.D.D. in our wonderings and carefree in our itinerary, traveling the backstreets and finding small cafes just wouldn’t have been the same without you there.  I can’t think of anyone I’d rather of been there with and glad you can put up with my lack of public transportation use.  Hope we can do it again sometime in another city, in another country adding another adventure into our lives.
Ja-Rod (MAJ545)

Barcelona Part Tre: The Rest

Saturday kicked off the true adventures in Barcelona...after fueling up on cafè and something way too crispy, chocolately, and yummy. In true Italian Katie fashion by the end of the first block something already caught my eye so of course we started meandering through the Naples like alleys with shops and cafes lining both sides. Luckily, we weren't that far away from where we wanted to be- Catedral de la Santa Crue. This cathedral was burried in the Barri Gòtic area, just on the other side of La Rambla.

The most striking difference between this cathedral to those I'm used to in Napoli was the amazing stain glass windows. The sunlight filtered through the otherwise dark sanctuary illuminating the hundreds of colors strategically arranged. Simply beautiful. I still don't get the need to have the remains of important people in these buildings through. Well, there is a lot of things about the Catholic Church that I don't understand...but I think that is the one that causing the most confusion in my head. Did these people say "I hope my remains get buried (or put on display) at _____?" Yes, these are the thoughts that go through my head while I'm walking around these old buildings...

Once leaving the cathedral (and admiring its moat) we headed towards Parc de le Ciutadella. If I haven't already bragged about the weather we had, let me do so now- blue sky with the sun streaming down and perfect glorious spring days. Before crossing the street, the Arc de Triomf greeted us as it was originally designed to do for the 1888 Universal Exposition. The park is named after the citadel formally found at this location, built by King Philips V after finally taking Barcelona after a 13 month siege in 1714. The citadel was torn down in 1869, leaving only 3 buildings in place including the arsenal which is now where the Catalan Parliament is located.

For the 1888 Universal Exposition, many of the buildings now in the park were built, including the Natural History Museum (Castel dels Tres Dragons). While we walked around admiring everything, hundreds of runners were utilizing the paths within the park running drills and for a split second I wished I was out there with them...but then my body remembered the marathon just a few weeks back. Piano, piano.

The bench lined walk ways with flower covered branches arching over them were simply stunning, as was the amount of grass. I guess I am becoming more of city girl with each passing month! On our trek through the park we saw dogs playing fetch, an enormous Mammoth statue, old men playing bocce ball, and the greenest of mini parrots sticking out of the palm trees. Eventually we found the Cascada, a fountain designed by...yep you guessed, it Gaudí. This was one of his projects as a student and he sort of designed it after the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Although there was only a ton of algae and a floating watermelon rind the water around the fountain, somehow it just blended with the somewhat natural look of the fountain. Well, minus the gold figures on top that I really just didn't care for. Maybe if there were fish I could have looked passed the goldness...maybe.

Let's see here. Then it was off to my favorite place of all time, but now since you're all Gaudí experts I won't take you through that again. On the route back we wandered through more new streets, re-exploring where we had been the night before. Stopping by Mercat St. Joseph there was some permanent damage done... I love looking at all the stands: produce, fish, spices, cheese, and even the occasional meat case. Well, they took it to a whole new level with ham legs. Cured. Hoof and all. Ick. I may need therapy to work through this.

Fast forward to dinner that night along the water. Finding a place to sit us at 11pm was no tough task. Getting through said dinner when I'm staring at a wall with no less than 3 pig legs hanging from it- tough. Very tough when you realize that the white thing stabbed into it is a "juice pan" and MAJ545 teases you about it the entire time. Gracias by the way.

I think I've captured most of that last collage. Some of those pics are just random but too much fun not to include. And yes, those are our "map shots." By that time of the day all map rules had been thrown out the window since we'd walked way too many miles and were in dire need of naps.

It truly was a fabulous trip and I couldn't have asked for a better escape from Italia. Although I'm not one who typically enjoys returning to places I've been...I'd consider returning to Barcelona because that's how much I enjoyed it. PLUS, I need to see the progress made on the most beautiful building ever!

Barcelona Part Dos: Gaudí Not Gaudy

48 hours in Barcelona is way too few; even when days start early and end in the early hours of the morning. Despite our short time, we chose to spend several hours at La Sagrada Familia. Well. I don't think we chose- that's how long it took us, and although I could have been there until closing we had to see some other things. Okay, so maybe an hour of that was spent in line, but with coffee in hand and chatting with the Italian couple in front of us, we still were in awe of the incomplete building next to us.

I put the link to the Wikipedia page above and I really encourage you to read more. Even after the audio tour of the place and now reading what I can online I'm still in complete awe. Very few times in my life have I ever gotten goose bumps from a cathedral...and this one isn't even completed! MAJ545 summed it up well with his comment about "I don't care what you believe, you can't destroy something like this."

Antoni Gaudí started working on this project back in 1883, one year after the first stone was laid. He spent the next 40 years designing and building the cathedral. How? Well he took his archetectural inspiration from nature: snails, leaves, honeycomb. He also was a geometry genius so took what he learned from nature and applied it to his creations. The use of colors and stones magnified the natural looks of water, sky, earth, and fire. Sculpted animals "scurried" all over the various façades: lizards, snakes, snails, turtles, birds, dogs.

When we finally made it into the gates the Passion Façade, in 3 pannels met us. The sharp lines chiseled into the stone, intensified by the shadows and sunlight, depicted the events of Holy week.  It took me a minute to realize that the scenes followed a s-shaped path, but I could figure out just about everyone and their part in the story. Except for the "thinking knights" that really turned out to be the Roman guards casting lots for Jesus' garments. Eh, I never liked them much anyway. Gaudí left no detail out in this creation: a fossilized palm frond, alpha and omega symbols, the rooster. As we entered into the sanctuary, thousands of words from the gospels with the "What is the truth?" highlighted on the doors. 

A mere two steps into the sanctuary and I was floored. Even now thinking about it and seeing the pictures I experience the same feeling. After the initial shock factor I just wanted lay down on the floor and stare for hours at the ceiling and the windows flooding the room with color. Despite the 22.2M stone pillars (2M wide) scattered through out the room and the massive stone vaults on the ceiling, this place was so light and open feeling. Nothing like the Gothic and Baroque cathedrals I'm so used to seeing. Again, the detail that was explained from the sea side blues to the mountain side green, the symbols within the patterns, how the lighting was just perfect- Gaudí was an inspired man and the perfect one for this tasking.

Pulling myself up from the seat I found to just take it all in, I wandered back outside to the Nativity Façade, which was started during Gaudí's life and now show the wear of the city around it. Again, multiple scenes depicted the events of Jesus' childhood below the nativity scene completed the portion of the wall below the tree of life. Listening to the audio guide we weren't 100% sure what were were looking at but again, we knew it was something special. Well, I take that back. we were looking at something special and then 4 towers with cones of multicolored items, resembling something like kick balls or dippin' dots ice cream. Turns out that those were the missing baskets of fall and summer harvests. Oops.  

Unfortunately, he died well before much of what we saw was even built...but he left plans. Detailed plans that captured his vision. Many were destroyed during the Civil War, however they are still looking at them to remain true to his plans. On the positive side, much of the technology needed to make the plans transform from paper and models to the real deal is now a reality. Work isn't scheduled to be done until at least 2026, which is the 100th anniversary of Gaudí's death. The photographs in the museum capturing the building that has taken place over the years is stunning, but perhaps even more so, is the fact that the highest spire is still not added. The central spire of Jesus will be 170M (560ft) which is one meter less than the hill in Barcelona. Apparently Gaudí figured his creation should be lower than God's but even so, once completed it will be the tallest church in the world.

So naturally, after falling in love with his design and creativity when the desk clerk suggested Parc Güell for Easter Sunday we took the "oh so scenic route" to the hill overlooking the city. It's my doing with the scenic route. I have this tendency to just walk in a general direction...well when distracted too much it turns out I take arching routes. But never once did our trusty maps not help us out. Granted there are rules about using maps:

• Rule #1 You can't walk around with it in your hand. 
• Rule #2 The fewer number of people see you with it, the better. 
• Rule #3 Never EVER be obviously lost. 
• Rule #4 Gotta still pay attention even when looking at the map. 

Why all the rules? I think it's pretty obvious when you're a tourist, but don't make it so easy for others to pick you out! I'm good at getting us "lost" but I always can find us on the map. MAJ545 was excellent at picking the direct routes back.

At any rate...we made it to Parc Güell. It wasn't too tough once we were swept into the crowds of tourists (with their maps and guidebooks in hand) walking along the street. Of course we weren't there until we climbed up the hill. And steps. Well, I took the steps. There were also escalators, but that's cheating. We started along the trails that lead up to "my house" and then took a back path through a very quite portion of the hill before wrapping back around to a monument of 3 stone crosses. Again, couldn't have been a more beautiful place to see on Easter. Of course all the tourist climbing up the itty bitty stairs (us too) made it a little crazy but a little crazy is good.

The park started as a housing development but never took off. Of the two houses built, Gaudí purchased one. The land was then converted into municipal gardens and somehow Gaudí got involved in designing portions of it and one again his knowledge and understanding of geometry found in nature is put to use. The rock arches are really bearing the weight of the roads above! The "bird nests" of stone just blend into the natural elements.

And then there is the fun stuff. The "like mosaic" as one, yep you guessed it, American tourist said while we passed her. Along the main square's perimeter there is a winding sea serpent that acts as a bench. Tiles make amazing patterns and shapes of sea creatures, that are viewed when people aren't sitting on every open space. Below the square columns support the weight above, and even they get mosaics that are just stunning. The white ceiling scattered with colorful mosaic circles are beautiful. Again, I had to fight the urge to lay on the ground and stare towards the ceiling...it wasn't too hard though since the ground was dirty. The steps leading up to the columns were "guarded" by the Gaudí dragon. This dragon was seen all over the city so we knew we couldn't leave until snapping our pics with him.

So if I sounds like a Gaudí fan, you're right, I am. He has several buildings scattered around town, all that we were able to identify. Turns out the tile along La Rambla is also one of his designs. It just may become my goal to go see all of his projects because they are truly amazing. Funny how I never knew about him and in one trip I discover his works and feel that La Sagrada Familia could quite possibly be the most beautiful man made thing I've ever seen.

Barcelona Part Uno

Living in a place like Southern Italy, you have to adapt or you will be miserable. There have been several instances where people have mentioned that Italy Katie is different and I'm okay with that. Change is crucial, especially when you were stuck in a stagnant place like Monterey. I know I'm changing with each challenge that gets thrown my way (and there are a lot). Last Friday headed to Barcelona though mid flight I realized that my "just go with it/little planning" plan may have backfired...even when I caved last minute and picked up a tour book from the library.

See, the plan was to meet one of my friends out there. Flights were purposely picked to arrive within an hour of each other so we could link up and then find the hotel. Well, that's a great plan if both flights land in the same terminal. Not completely freaking out when I realized the different airlines did in fact arrive in different terminals, I caught the shuttle down to the next terminal where his flight had arrived 45 minutes prior. He of course was no where to be seen, and so panic began to set in.

What kind of idiot travels without getting his number from the email? Why don't I have a copy of the hotel reservations?  Do I even know the name of the hotel? What am I doing here?

Luckily, I have amazing friends that look out for me and as I waited to get back on the shuttle (thinking maybe we crossed paths?) I frantically texted to see who was up and willing to hack my email for info. Paranoid or maybe just observant I watched out the window and guess who I found? Yep. I actually snuck up on him because he was too busy trying to figure out how to get into town. Seeing a friend after a while is always a fabulous event, but finding one when you're near panic, in a new country, exhausted, and it's almost midnight? Dare I say priceless? And yes, hug worthy.

It all worked out. (This time and yeah, USA Katie tendencies will be sticking around on trip planning for just a while longer...)

The weekend was fabulous but throughout the trip there were several things that just made me say "we're not in Italy are we?" Since he's been living in Europe too there were several conversations of "what do you mean it's not like this in Italy?" Which would then lead to the "I know, you only saw Rome and Rome isn't Naples." (Which a couple from around Rome while at La Sagrada Familia totally confirmed by their reaction when the heard I was living in Naples...)

I love Italy. I really do. But sitting outside at a cafe sipping sangria while birds chirped, cars obeyed traffic signals, and leaves floated in the wind just felt like home. Don't interpret this wrong- it didn't feel like the US. I could still tell I was overseas due to the levels of smokers, attention to detail in architecture, and the "all the time in the world" mentality.

But then on our adventures things would transport me back to Naples, like a car parking in a spot that required full bumper contact. Of course everyone stood looking on in horror while I just continued to walk down the sidewalk. Totally normal in my world.

What wasn't normal? The huge parks in the middle of city. Trash cans every corner with 99% of trash actually in them, not on the ground. Cars passed without honking. The plethora of cuisine offered by the restaurants lining the streets. Streets truly meant for driving "normal sized cars" and sidewalks for more than a single file line of pedestrians.

Several times, especially when crossing streets, I realized I was very paranoid to cross until I not only saw the "green guy" but also double checked for cars up to 10 seconds after the light change. Jaywalking? I don't think I did that until Sunday afternoon and even then I wasn't happy about it.

Language was another huge thing. From day one of Italian class, I've had to train myself to remeber that just because it's not English doesn't mean that Spanish will work. For months I've been trying to replace the few Spanish palabras that remain from my high school days con italiano. I'm happy to report that the change is taking place. When trying to do the simplest of order (ie for coffee) latte came to mind rather than leche. Small is now piccolo, not penqueno. There were so many other instances that I caught myself translating between English, Italian, and Spanish each night to try to straighten my brain out. Even numbers threw me for a loop. Then again, with Catalan who knows what you're really hearing...

After getting back to Naples on Monday, I thanked the gas attendant with a gracias. Go figure since I think just about everyone in Spain got a grazie. Now he really thinks I'm crazy.

One thing I found that still (yep, still) hasn't changed is my jumpiness with lizards. By "stick lizard" sighting three one afternoon I think MAJ545 was seriously questioning how sane I was. One day I'll get over it. Maybe.