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!

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...

Tapas Tapas Everywhere

At the hostel, I asked the desk guy for a good dinner recommendation. After talking prices and cuisine (ummm..no chinese and no burgers por favor), he directed me down a relatively scary alley to the Placa Reial.

I was all kung-fu ready but after a slightly lenghty walk down the alley, holding my breath because of the smell, I made it to the square with limb and wallet intact.

The Placa was a surpise. After walking down Urine Alley, I expected something a little run-down, but it was really nice and lively. There were lots of people (a good mix of locals and tourists) hanging out, lining up for the cervecerias and restaurants. A few street performers were entertaining the crowds. But compared to the ones in La Rambla they were good. They actually moved.

There was also an old guy sitting on a lawn chair in the middle of the square. Once in a while he would get up and throw a dirty-looking stuffed cat at people and laugh. I'm not sure if he was insane or another performer. Like an avant-garde one.

I chose a normal looking cerveceria, enough away from the cat-toss area, and proceeded to have a nice, very large tapas dinner. I tell you, there's nothing like Spain for some kickass seafood. After a good two-hours at dinner, I headed back to the hostel, knowing that if I got robbed on the way, I at least had one great meal.

Placa Reial after exiting Crime Alley.

Eating my very nice dinner.
Pulpo a la Gallega: Suateed tender octopus on olive oil over potatoes.
Plate o' fried tiny fish.
Monkfish and prawn a la Catalana, in a crab sauce.

Creme Brulee with Bourbon sauce.

A Walk In La Rambla

I took a walk from Plaza de la Universidad, down to La Rambla. The weather was incredibly warm, and I was scandalously overdressed in my t-shirt and jeans. It seems standard accross-the-board summer guy-wear in Barcelona consists of swimsuit, tank top, and flip-flops. Soo many toes.

La Rambla was packed with tourits buying t-shirts and watching street performers pretend to be human statues. Though the performers costumes were imaginative (their getting a permit from the city is contingent on their creativity), I just don't see the attraction. I mean, they just stand there. If I'm giving someone money, I at least want to see some tap dancing. Or have them make ballon animals. Preferably monkeys.

The avenue is also full of shops, souvenir stands, and lots of little bars selling really expensive tapas and beer and frozen paella. And ice cream. After I sampled some, just to compare with previous ice creams, I headed back to my hostel to find a place for dinner.

McGruff Watch: A couple of policemen running down an alley while putting rubber glves on. Eeek!

Hola Barcelona! Please Don't Take My Lunch Money.

The bus dropped me off at the Estacio de Nord and form there I took the metro to the Barrio Gotic.

Now I had read in the guidebooks that Barcelona was all crime ridden and full of pick pockets, but all guide books about every city say that so I really didn't pay no mind. That is until I saw someone getting robbed in the metro platform, and then at the transfer station there was a total butch-dikey, mullet-sporting police woman with a german sheperd with a metal muzzle on, patroling the station. I later noticed that there seems to be an army of hardcore tank-girls with dogs specifically recruited to guard every station. It was all very Mad-Maxette.

The metro left me right in the middle of the gothic neighborhood, which is pretty cool, with all sorts of churches, stone walls, broken down structures, and very ornate buildings and lamposts. And more pickpockets, as I saw another person getting robbed, and a gypsy sending her little boy into a group of tourists to dig through handbags. Aaah gypsies, can't live with them, can't live without them.

I worked my way through the maze of narrow, dark streets to my hostel, The Hostal Levante, which was housed on the top three floors of a gothic building. I deposited my tote bag, hid my passport, put my wallet in my front pocket and went out for a walk.