La Defense

I'd heard a lot about the business district of La Defense being really interesting, set-up-wise at least, and having a great longshot view of the Arc de Triomphe, so I went to check it out.

It did have a nice view of the Arc and the standing in the middle of the avenue you could see it and the newer arc marking the city limit. It was a really quiet, empty area, and kinda (really) boring, though I did find a nice cemetery. They always help to liven things up.

The area is also bordered by the Bois de Bologne, which is supposed to be very nice, with golf courses and gardens etc. But it's even more famous/notorious for the very large amounts of hookers, hustlers, and various other sordid sex workers that ply their trade between the trees at nighttime.

But since I had no interest in any financial transactions that did not involve pastries or shoes, and more importantly, it was still daylight, I jumped back on the metro and headed out to somewhere with people.

Literary Pursuits

So I figured I should buy some french books to keep on praticing once I'm home or on the train etc. So I went to Gibert Jeune and bought some books to take back with me. Some of the masterpieces I acquired included Bonjour Tristesse, The Flowers of Evil, and A Season in Hell.

I also decided to buy translations of some of my favorite books, that way I'd have a better idea of what I was reading, rather than just being all coffeehouse cool with my Baudelaire and not having an inkling of why the damn flowers are actually so evil. So I got Less Than Zero and The Rules of Attraction, The Great Gatsby (or Gatsby the Magnificent in french), A Room With A View (or A Window to Tuscany), and Brideshead Revisited.

One curious thing I noticed was that the names in some books were changed. More specifically, women's names that I guess are hard for the french to pronounce are all changed to "Olivia". So "Bridget Jones's Diary" is actually "Le Journal d'Olivia" and Blair Waldorf in the Gossip Girl books is Olivia Waldorf.

Or maybe Blair and Bridget actually mean really nasty things in french. I'll will research further and report ASAP Blairdam it!

Sneaking In

It was 6:30 by the time I started heading back to the dorm. I was tired, but energized by the coming morning (and the three cups of expresso I had at Ignacio's) . The streets were very still, and empty except for the vendors setting up their market stalls and some drowsy waiters preparing for breakfast at the all-night cafes.

I was very quiet going into the dorm, as I was dreading running into a nun. Last time I came in so late I said I had gone for an early, early morning walk, but it's not like I could use that one again, especially with the same nun. And I had already used the "Oh, I'm just heading out right now" and just turned around and walked back out the door. Not that it would be a big deal, but it just seems so delinquent to come in at 7am from a night out, while a nun had to get up at dawn to start fixing my breakfast.

Unfortunately, I did run into a nun. So I just waved and ran up the stairs. It was one of the old ones, so I'm hoping she couldn't see me clearly and would maybe confuse me for a japanese.

Ignacio's Apartment

Ignacio's apartment was the biggest one I've seen so far in Paris. It had a huge entryway, four bedrooms and a really large living room with high ceilings. It also had some really fun furniture which contrasted nicely with the old style molding and structure.

I think we were all a little tired and wired , so we lounged around, chatted, and looked at Ignacio's cool interactive installations while he prepared dessert and yelled "panna cota. panna cotta" repeatedly. The oft-yelled home-made panna cota was actually really good, and was garnished with fruit salad. It was 6am, so thankfully he made espressos to go with it.

Chau and Leslie had trains to catch in a few hours, and I was starting to get zonked again, so we bid Ignacio goodbye. We walked Leslie to her apartment and then I walked Chau to hers with plans to meet in the SF when we were all back.

Second Night- No Sleep

Later that evening at around 10:30, I headed over to meet Chau. I had tried to take a nap, but I was wired from not sleeping, so i just took another shower and figured I'd sleep later.

We met at Kubanito, where Leslie was working. The place was really crowded but we settled into a booth, and, since it was her last evening, I braced myself for what Chau said was gonna be a long night.

A few hours later, and after a round of Monacos and virgin pina coladas, we took a snack break and went across the street to buy lebanese food.

By 4:30 am, and a few more round of drinks and the acquaintance of Ignacio, an Italian interactive architect, we were the only ones left in the place. We waited for Leslie to finish closing up so we could walk her home, and started heading down the street when Ignacio asked, "Why don't you come over for panna cota?". Why not indeed. So resigning myself to no sleep for yet another evening, we all headed over to Ignacio's for dessert (breakfast?).

Un-PC Food- Paris vs. Barcelona

On this corner Paris:

And in this corner, Barcelona:

Berkeley and Santa Cruz would go crazy for these tasty treats!

Chau's Last Day

I got to the dorm from the airport at around 11:00, so I rested for about an hour and then went to meet Chau to hang out with her on her last day in Paris.

We started off at Cafe Jade on Rue Bucci, one of her favorite restaurants. The food was pretty good. I had a duck terrine to start and then a steak au poivre, but skipped dessert as we had planned to have a chocolate africain later. The manager of the cafe had lived in San Francisco 10 years ago, so she stopped by to chat for a while and reminisce.

Afterwards we went to Gibert Jeune to buy some books, and then met her friend Leslie, who's also a bartender at Kubanito. She was totally fun, and took us to some good, less pricey shopping areas to look for shoes. She was very patient and insisted in talking french to us for practice.

After a long afternoon of shopping we tried to go to Angelique's for the chocolate africain, but it was too crowded, so instead we went to Rue Mouffetard, had some crepes (I had a Grand Marnier, butter and sugar crepe which was good until it cooled down and then it just got gross), and then went to a bar that Leslie knew around the corner to hang out for a bit.

We ordered hot chocolates, and they came with the cutest chocolate-covered bear-shaped marshmellows (grrrr!). Afterwards, we walked Leslie home so she could get ready for work and then made plans to meet up later to hang out.

Heading Back

My plane back to Beauvais left Girona at 6am, which meant I had to catch the bus from the Barcelona Station de Nord at 3:30am. So I went out for a while and then headed to the station to get my bag and catch the train.

The station was closed until 3, and it was pretty seedy. Since all the benches were taken, people were putting plastic bags on the ground to have someplace to sit, or lay down, as was the case with some backpackers. Kinda made me glad I wasn't backpacking but totebagging, and still hadn't gotten to the point where it felt natural to lay down somewhere nasty, even with a rain coat as a sheet.

Finally the bus came, and I took the flying banana back to Paris.

Last Night in Barcelona

I had left my bag earlier at the train station, so I was free to roam on my last evening in town. I spent it walking around the town, enjoying the weather.

My adios dinner: Grilled baby octopus, octopus a la Gallega, russian salad, sardines in oil with olives, and chicken croquettes.

Montserrat

We finally arrived at the Montserrat Station funicular stop and as I got off, my older lady companion bid me farewell and said she hoped I made it up the mountain. Hmmmm.

After lining up for a few seconds, we loaded the little cart and started the ascent. I have to admit it was a little scary. It was a very vertical rise and since it was a little windy, there was some swinging. There were also maybe more people than there should have been in the cart, like it should have been kept at the conductor and I. Just to be safe .

I finally let go on the middle bar though and enjoyed the view. As we climbed up, you could see the tiny towns below, and above and on the sides of the mountain, old chapels and crucifixes.



We finally arrived, (when I say finally, the ride was only 5 minutes. It just seems longer when there's a possibility that you'll fall and your body will be eaten by spanish goats), and it wasn't really what I expected. When I hear "mountain monastery", I visualize moss and stone, and old statues. Maybe some cobwebs and mystery. And a chapel in a cave with monks chanting and popping out behind trees.

But no. It was really...neat. Very orderly and clean. I assume the existing structures came up around the monastery as tourism became more prevalent. Though it's nice to have a cafeteria and a gift shop on hand, it kinda ruined the mood.

The views however, were amazing. And the grounds on the surrounding mountain were very lush and full of religious statues. I also ran into the old lady from the train who said she was glad I had made it up the mountain.

And the church was pretty cool, situated as it was inside a courtyard with a great stone entryway.



I decided to take the tram down for a change of pace. It was a nice ride snaking down the side of the mountain, through a small town with a very blue pool, to the train station. And from there, the ride back to Barcelona for my last evening in town.

Dirty Hippies

In the morning, armed with pastries, I set off to Montserrat. I took the metro to the train station and then settled in my berth for a good hour's ride to the mountain monastery.

I sat across a very nice, older lady and we chatted for a while and compared tickets. She was taking the tram up the mountain, while I had a funicular ticket. She was all "good luck. Hope you don't fall. Hee hee". "Hee hee" my ass.

Anyway, everything was mellow and people were starting to doze

off when all of a sudden, a hippie chick at the front of the car got up, stood in the aisle, and started doing stretches. Or maybe it was yoga because eventually she laid on the floor and all one could see was a leg periodically come up. Sometimes her butt. It was all very disturbing. Even her dreadlocked companions seemed embarrased and my lady companion kept "tut tut"ing.

I kept hoping she was german, but I have a feeling she was from the US.

I Wanna Tapa That

Another night in Barcelona, another delicious dinner:

Clockwise from top olives: Olives, stuffed artichoke, anchovies in oil, russian salad, fresh shrimp, octopus in vinegar.
Papas Bomba- potato balls stuffed with spicy meat(yum yum yum) and anchovy-stuffed olives.
Little sausages, russian salad, and a Cocoalata.

McGruff crime watch: A german tourist running after a guy who had just stolen his cell phone. A couple of policemen running into Custo Barcelona with batons in hand. It's like being in "Cops". Or I guess really "Policias".

Vamos A La Playa

Ewww...feet! Yes, gross, but they're my feet at the beach so I'll make an exception.

After a long morning and early afternoon of Gaudi, it was time to get a little color, so I headed to Platja de la Mar Bella. The weather was beautiful, the beach was beautiful, and the water was beautiful. Only bad thing was that I couldn't go into the water as that would entail leaving my stuff unnatended.

Last thing I wanted was to have to walk back to the hostel barefoot and in a speedo, so I just enjoyed the sun and tried to avoid making eye contact with the many asian women walking around offering massages.

The really great thing about the beach was that people kept arriving late into the afternoon and early evening. It seemed that as soon as work was over, people got together with their friends or picked up their kids and headed down. And not just to have bonfires and stuff, but with coolers and beer and wearing their swimsuits. It was just that warm.

At around 7pm, I headed back to take a nap and get ready for dinner.

Gaudi Mania

You can't come to Barcelona without taking a walk around town and admiring the architecture, especially those buildings and structures created by Gaudi. So after my visit to the cathedral, I took the metro to the Sagrada Familia Church for the begining of Gaudipalooza 2008.

Sagrada Familia has been under constrution since the late 1800s, and it was expected to be finished by October 2008, though I read in the paper that it's looking more like 2010. Maybe they finally factored in all the siesta breaks?

The church looks like giant novelty candle that has been left in the sun and started to melt. Or like when you make little towers of wet sand at the beach. But every nook and melted curve has significance, with parts contatining sculptures depicting the nativity and other important bible tales. It's very cool.

Casa Mila, or "La Pedrera", is just a few blocks away. It's another interestingly shaped building, and apartment house in this case, that makes you think sooomeone might have been high when they designed it. Or that maybe they use Fred Flinstone as a consultant. Yabba-dabba-doo!

I read that when they first opened it, people didn't want to move in because they were concerned about their furniture fitting into the rounded rooms. Ha! A crystal wall and they would have been more worried about the german tourists walking through their hallways at all times.


Casa Batllo is a little further away on the Passeig de Gracia, in a very busy avenue close to La Rambla (and Topman and Burberry!). It seems little more structured, with very interesting window shapes and mosaics adding color to the exterior.

Locals refer to it as House of Bones because the balconies and windows are said to be...ummm...bone shaped. It's maybe supposed to represent the battle between Saint George and the dragon.

After the three buildings, I decided to take a break and head to the beach for a little lay-out. Parc Guell will have to wait for my next visit to Barcelona.

The Long Hot Evening and a Cathedral

I spent a long, uncomfortable very hot evening, but I did get to chat with my australian neighbor when I went to open the balcony door. It was his first time in Spain, and he was enjoying it greatly, though he did get mugged and some of the waiters refused to speak to him in English. And it would have been nice if he would have put some clothes on. He was a little pasty.

Anyway, I rigged the beds and alignined them with the window and the floor fans, and I finally got to sleep. Two hours later, it was time to get up and start walking the town. After getting pastry supplies (traditional catalan flatbread with almonds and a bit palmier), I headed to the Cathedral. I passed by the Placa St. Felip Neri, which was fantastically empty considering the amount of people walking the streets, and headed up some windy alleys to until I reached the walls of the church.

Note: Please instert the word "gothic" before any noun used on this post (even "geese"). It's the gothic quarter and I'm writing about a church, so to save time...

I went in through a side wall and was again nicely surprised. Unlike some of the many historical churches in france (and the thousands I saw in germany last year), instead of just walking straight into a church full of pews and statues, I found myself in a center courtyard. Fenced in with intricate metalwork, was a large square with palm trees, fountains, and geese, and through the trees it was possible to see the church spires.


Around the circumference of the courtyard was a high-ceilinged walkway that led to the different chapels. I went in to the gigantic main church area and walked around looking at the wall art, the statutes, and the many digital monitors showing mass times and giving instructions on proper attire. Those were a little jarring. As were the tables with electric candles. I mean, the church has been around since the 15th century. I wouldn't think some candlewax would be the worst thing for it.
However, among the standard accoutrements were the coffins of a duke and duchess that were instrumental to the building of the church. Now, most old churches have crypts and reliquaries, but these were just coffins nailed to the wall. Somehow, this was a little more disturbing than regular gravesites or mausoleums. Dead things on the ground can't fall on you. Kinda hardcore.

And on to Gaudi...