Vacation Recovery Mode

Dave and I are back in London, settling into our routines. The flat is just as we left it, the plants are all miraculously still alive, and Olga will be joining us this afternoon. (She had an extra day in the kennel because we arrived back home last night.)

Our flight home was uneventful. It seemed really short, actually. I took my computer out and spent my time editing photos, and before I knew it we were landing.

We spent our last morning in Barcelona at the Palau de la Música Catalana, or Palace of Catalan Music, a beautiful concert hall designed by Lluís Domenech i Montaner, another famous architect (like Gaudi) of the Catalan Art Nouveau movement. The best part was undoubtedly the stained glass skylight, which allows natural light into the main concert hall. The space was likened to both a "box of light," with all its windows, and a garden, with its many floral motifs. The ceiling represents the sun.

When we finished our tour -- and yes, we had to take a guided tour, which normally is not my thing but at least we had a pleasant, interesting guide -- Dave zipped over to the market to buy some olive oil and saffron, and I took a last walk through the neighborhood, looking for interesting street art. (Oh yeah, remember that thing I said about how I'm less interested in photographing graffiti these days? Well, that went out the window in Barcelona. Talk about a street art town!)

I found some art, and I also found this mysteriously fenced and locked courtyard, where a lonely blue ball was waiting for some Olga-like dog to come along and tear it to pieces.

And now, I am off to do a mountain of laundry, and to begin loading my roughly 350 Barcelona photos onto Flickr. (Gotta do more editing!)

Montserrat

If you're like me before I came to Barcelona, when you hear the name Montserrat, you probably think of a Caribbean island. But that island was named for this mountain, a geological oddity with a weird, serrated spine (hence the name) and a site of holy pilgrimage for Catholics.

Yesterday, Dave and I took a one-hour express train and then a special uphill railway to reach the monastery, basilica and other cultural features of Montserrat.

We arrived to find quite a few others walking around the monastery's main plaza, and a long line stretching out of the basilica, which we wanted to see. So Dave and I got in line. As we waited, we watched visitor after visitor come and stand in the enclosed plaza in front of the church in the same posture, arms outstretched, apparently offering a prayer to the frieze of Jesus and the disciples over the door.

After waiting about an hour in the slow-moving line, we wondered what kind of crowd control was in use -- it seemed only a few people were being admitted at a time. Then we realized we weren't in line for the basilica itself. We were in line to visit La Moreneta, the Virgin of Montserrat. This religious icon is one of the most famous in Spain, so we figured we may as well stay in line and see her too.

(As we waited, I marveled at some of the people walking through the courtyard. I saw one teenage girl wearing a hot-pink, midriff-baring tee shirt inscribed "Ibiza Dirty People." I thought, you wore that to a monastery?)

Well, we waited. And waited. We eventually waited 2 1/2 hours, winding not only into the basilica but through a series of chapels and then up a set of stairs. We couldn't have left the line if we'd wanted to -- we were hemmed in by walls and the crowds behind us. And then I realized why viewing the virgin was taking so long. Each person approached the glass-enclosed icon, grasped the one part of the statue that extended beyond the glass (a hand holding an orb), said a prayer and then kissed the orb. We were waiting for each person to perform this ritual.

Needless to say, Dave and I did not kiss the orb. I just took her picture and got the heck out of there.

Blinded and exhausted when we emerged into the light of day, we headed for the nearest bar. (Even though it's a religious site, this is Spain -- so yes, there was a bar.) We had a sandwich and a beer, and then took a funicular to an even higher part of the mountain, known for its scenic walks.

This seemed far closer to a real religious experience, at least for me. I was intrigued by the flowers, and the weirdly anatomical rocky cliffs...

...and the butterflies. I mean, this is what's miraculous, right?

We walked a trail along the mountaintop to a remote chapel, admiring the astonishing views. Then we wound our way back to the funicular and headed back down the mountain. We took a cable car from the monastery site, which sailed out into space like an airplane. We landed at a quiet little pine-shaded railroad station -- it wasn't the same one we used when we arrived, and it seemed a bit like stepping back several decades in time -- where we waited for the train back to Barcelona.

We're flying back to London, and our old routines, this afternoon!

La Barceloneta (aka The Beach)

Yesterday morning, despite feeling somewhat achy-shaky, I set out with Dave to go to La Barceloneta, the beach district of Barcelona. It's on a peninsula bordered on one side by a modern marina lined with cafes, like the one above, and on the other by the Mediterranean Sea.

There's a long beachfront that at least on this particular Sunday was quite busy. Dave and I walked down to the water just long enough to put our feet in the Mediterranean, so we could say we'd done it. We're not really beach people, though, so we didn't lie out on the sand.

Instead we walked the tiny, narrow streets in the interior of the Barceloneta peninsula, the remnants of an old fishing community. It's now busy with bars, clubs and restaurants, but there are also lots of quaint apartment buildings and it seems pretty densely populated. It reminded me a lot of Morocco, with the stucco walls in pastel colors and the bright Mediterranean light.

That flag above, by the way, shows support for Catalan independence from Spain. Barcelona is in Catalonia, a region with its own language -- for example, Catalans say "adéu" for goodbye, which sounds a bit more like the French "adieu" than the Spanish "adios." There's a push for Catalan statehood -- apparently many Catalans feel that when it comes to Spain as a whole, they give more than they get.

I've been speaking Spanish, since I obviously don't know a word of Catalan (and I don't mean to overstate my skills, because I barely know Spanish) -- but it's occurred to me that it may be kind of weird for me to speak Spanish in Catalonia. Who knows? I certainly don't want to take sides in anyone's internal politics!

When Dave and I were on the tour bus Saturday, we drove past this pet shop, apparently named for Laika, the Russian space dog. In the 1950s, Laika was sent into space in a Sputnik capsule in order to see how life forms would survive in that environment. Unfortunately, the Russians had no way to get Laika back down again. Her sad story has long intrigued me, so when I saw the shop, I knew I had to get a photo of it.

Yesterday afternoon, after a huge lunch of seafood and paella at a beach cafe, I was feeling much better -- my fever and achiness seemed to have subsided. So while Dave came back to the hotel I hopped on the Barcelona metro to go in search of Laika. I found the shop again with no trouble -- sadly, I think it's permanently closed -- and then walked back to our part of town, which gave me a chance to wander a few hours through less touristy parts of Barcelona. I stopped for a cafe con leche, spoke Spanish and savored the thrill of the adventure.

Gaudi Fever

Yesterday was a day of more bizarre and unusual Antoni Gaudi architecture. We went to see Casa Batllo, known as the "House of Bones," and took a terrific, detailed audio tour of the interior and roof. It's a beautiful, colorful building, and I think it surpasses La Pedrera, even though that was touted as his finest residential achievement.

Wouldn't you love to have that as your living room window? Wow!

There's also quite a light fixture in the swirling ceiling of the room, said to be inspired by an eddy of water.

From there we went to La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's huge cathedral and certainly his most famous building. But you know, we got there around lunchtime, and the line of people waiting to go in stretched literally around the block. Dave and I had lunch at a cafe across the street while we gazed at the building, and though it may be heresy for me to say, I'm not all that into it. It's too much of a hodge-podge -- the newer parts look really new, the older parts look really old, and there's a huge disconnect between the elements, it seems to me. There's some controversy about whether it accurately represents Gaudi's designs and intentions, given that the original plans for the cathedral were lost in the 1930s. Plus there's a heck of a lot of scaffolding. To make a long story short, we decided not to go inside.

I know, I know. How can we come to Barcelona and not see its most famous building? All I can say is, when I first went to Paris in 2000, I didn't go up in the Eiffel Tower because it was similarly crowded, and I lived with that decision easily. So I think I'll be fine with this one too.

Instead we went to Park Güell (and don't ask me how to pronounce that), yet another Gaudi-designed Barcelona landmark. I had imagined a green oasis where we would escape some of the crowds of the city, but no -- the crowds of the city came with us!

It doesn't look that crowded because the field above is a large space -- but trust me, there were so many people all trying to take photos of the same things, we had our elbows in each others' faces. My guidebook says the park gets 4 million visitors a year, about 86 percent of them tourists!

This lizard is a famous feature created by Gaudi, and let me tell you, everyone wanted a photo with the lizard. Dave and I didn't even see it when we walked past the first time, because from a few steps away it looked like a seething ball of people. I gave up trying to get a photo without anyone in it!

And here, the day took an unfortunate turn. I had started feeling a little odd at La Sagrada Familia, and by the time we were walking through Park Güell, I was achy and feverish. I bought some aspirin on the way back to the hotel, and I felt well enough to go out to dinner last night (fortunately my digestion is fine), but I am definitely ill. I don't have a thermometer so I can't measure my temperature, but it's pretty high. I don't have any other symptoms, though -- no cough, no sniffling, no gastrointestinal issues. It must be Gaudi Fever!

Marilyn, and Other Barcelona Sightings

Dave and I decided that the best way to see Barcelona would be via one of those open-top bus tours. So we bought tickets, but by the time we got in line to board a bus yesterday morning, the sun was already broiling and we had just a few hours before we had to be at a restaurant for a lunch reservation. So we bailed on the bus and walked through the Plaça de Catalunya, where this old gent was feeding pigeons, up to La Pedrera, an apartment building designed by Antoni Gaudi.

We took a self-guided tour of the building, the best part of which is the crazy, funhouse roof, with its wild ghost-like chimneys. I can see why Gaudi has earned the reputation of being one of Spain's -- and indeed, the world's -- most inventive architects.

From there we went to lunch at Cinq Sentits, a terrific restaurant that Dave had scoped out. It really was a gastronomic experience -- one of the best meals we've ever eaten, we both concurred. We had a tasting menu with wine pairings and even got to see the kitchen and meet the chef.

Later in the afternoon, Marilyn was greeting crowds on a balcony over La Rambla.

I'd always heard this was a great town for street art, and indeed, there is tons of it. I've taken myself on two solo walks while Dave snoozes in the hotel, and I've found incredible quantities of fun and interesting art. Why pay for a museum?

Finally, late yesterday afternoon, we went back to the tour bus and climbed on with no difficulty whatsoever. By this time, the sun was much lower and the temperatures cooler, and we enjoyed a couple of hours' sightseeing. We got off the bus just once, to see the city from the Palau Nacional at Montjuic, the neighborhood overlooking central Barcelona from the south. Bathed in a pink-orange evening glow, it was quite a view! (Photos will be on Flickr soon, as usual!)

Barcelona

It is so bright here, and so hot. Apparently even London was in the high 80s yesterday, so we're not alone, but walking on La Rambla with all the zillions of other tourists in the afternoon was definitely an exercise in perseverance. Sangria helped -- as well as the light, which makes for great shadows and great photos!

So, yes, Barcelona! We haven't seen much yet, aside from the central business district right around La Rambla, which is a large pedestrian thoroughfare that runs down to the water. It is apparently the place to promenade, though as Dave and I walked it yesterday afternoon we noted that many of the people who were out at that time did not appear to be Spanish. (Maybe the Spaniards were taking a siesta?)

We had lunch in the open-air food market -- clams for me, a seafood assortment for Dave. I tried to order something I wouldn't normally eat, just to be experimental. I am still not a huge fan of clams, but somehow they added to the feeling that I really was in a different place.

Our flight was uneventful -- we passed over the Pyrenees, the mountains that form the border between France and Spain, which were snowy on top even at this time of year. I had considered trying to go to Andorra, a tiny country up in the mountains that sparked my curiosity because of my affinity for remote places -- but apparently it's basically a haven for low-tax shopping with skiing in winter. We're not into shopping or skiing, so we decided to skip Andorra.

Last night we had tapas for dinner, of course. Then we came back to the hotel and watched an episode of "Green Acres" on YouTube. It's admittedly ridiculous to spend an evening in Barcelona watching events unfold in Hooterville, but what can I say? It's the TV equivalent of comfort food! (We did also watch some Spanish television, including a newscast about the heat and 20 surreal minutes of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" dubbed in Spanish.)

The Sugar Bowl

Dave and I are off to Barcelona! Our flight is an early one, so I don't have time for a real post. Enjoy this rainbow on our sugar bowl instead -- the product of that crystal heart I found on the street several months ago, which we hung in our kitchen window. More tomorrow from sunny Spain!