Cycling Trips
- U.S. East
Coast
- Maine to
PA
- The Edge of
N.J.
- Fahrradtour
Canada
- Skiing
Whistler Mtn.
- Canoeing
Wilderness
Lakes
Europe +
- Exploring
Heidelberg
- Bad Luck
In Germany
- Trolley
Adventure in
Milan
- A Week In
Israel
New Zealand
- Volcanic Vistas
U.S.
North
- Remote
Alaskan
Roads
- Navigating
the 1,000
Islands
U.S. West
- Miserable
Hawaii
- California
Redwoods
- Omaha
Surprises
- Summer at
Tahoe
Even More
- Recent
Travels
- My Quest For
All
50
States
- About Bob
Not too long ago I traveled to Barcelona, Spain, for
work. 
I had
most of Sunday and Monday to explore the beautiful city,
where the work of artist/architect Antoni Gaudi is still in
strong evidence, almost 70 years after he was killed by a
streetcar.
I met up with a friend named Elisabetta Ascani, a girl I met briefly 10 years ago in Stuttgart, Germany, and then exchanged letters with for years. She now lives in Madrid and took a bus to Barcelona to see me. I felt both honored and guilty when I learned she had ridden that bus for 7 hours to get there.
We spent Sunday afternoon wandering the streets of the Gothic Quarter, an ancient part of the city that's a maze of narrow alleys and interconnecting passages. Some opened up into quiet courtyards where men plucked Spanish guitars. Shops were built into the old walls lining the narrow streets. Above were countless balconies outside the windows of apartments. Occasionally cyclists or even cars would squeeze past us.
We found a "tapas" bar and sat to eat. Tapas are
a Spanish tradition. They are essentially a variety of
snacks that one would eat while drinking cerveza. We had
small plates of meatballs, fried potatoes, potato quiche,
breaded artichoke, and more, while drinking a few beers and
catching up on our lives.
Elisabetta moved to Spain from Italy with a former boyfriend, and stayed after they parted ways. She works at a call center where people from around the world phone to complain of lost luggage. She speaks five languages, Italian, Spanish, French, German and English, and is working on Portuguese.
We wandered around the port, looking out at the masts of hundreds of docked boats, then pondered the Columbus statue, sitting high atop a column, pointing out toward the lands he "discovered." We walked "las Ramblas," a festive street lined with shops, where numerous performers put on shows for passersby.
Later we toured La Casa Batllo, a house "enhanced" by Gaudi. The facade is like nothing you've ever seen, with no straight lines or angles on the windows or balconies. Window frames and pillars resemble brittle bones. The roof tiles look like fish scales, part of an aquatic theme that extends throughout. A stairwell inside reminds you of being at the bottom of an aquarium, with blue ceramic tiles covering the walls.
For dinner, we had more tapas and beer in another
bar, and then I had to turn in, having had no sleep on the
plane. Elisabetta stayed in a hostel not far away.
Monday I invited a coworker to join us, and we had breakfast in a cafe, then walked to Gaudi's famous, still-unfinished Sagrada Familia cathedral. It is an incredible sight to see as you round a corner and its massive towers come into view. They resemble stalagmites formed from sediment dripping down from heaven. Each side of the building has four of these towers. The stone figures in the facade replay scenes from the life of Christ.
The inside is still a construction site, a century after work started. We climbed some 300 steps up one tower for marvelous views over the city.
Then we took a train to Park Guell, a place
where Gaudi's fanciful sculptures and designs hold sway. We
had to ascend a very steep street to reach the park, then
descend down into the park. It was a sunny day, in the 60s,
and it was very pleasant to walk around, looking at the
ceramic decorations and buildings.
We found our way back to the Gothic Quarter later for a late lunch--early by Spanish standards--in (take a guess) another tapas bar. The beer was cold and the food was great. The bar was in a dark, narrow alley, and had obviously been there for hundreds of years. The old decorative bottles sitting on aging shelves had probably been placed there 80 years ago by some former owner. I reveled in the antiquity and dark atmosphere of the place, watching the locals standing at the bar with their midday beers.
After that we wandered some more through the
quarter, then back onto Las Ramblas, past vendors selling
caged birds of many types (even roosters). I had a bus to
catch to take me to the resort town of Sitges, where my
press conference would take place. So I bid Elisabetta a sad
farewell and climbed on board.
I didn't see much of Sitges, though a group of us did go out to a bar after the business dinner. We later walked the mile or so back to the hotel, weaving along narrow streets and climbing steps set between an old cathedral and the moonlit Mediterranean Sea.
Questions about Barcelona? | E-mail Bob
