Barcelona Report. Finally.

I think I mentioned some time ago that I was going to Barcelona for the weekend? If I didn't, I meant to, and I did, go to Barcelona that is. It's really simple to do from here. Take the train to Rome and then the plane to Barcelona, that's it. From there, where you are reading this that is, it might sound a bit more posh saying, "I'm going to Barcelona for the weekend". At least that's what Olivia told me when I mentioned off-hand in an email that I was going to Barcelona for the weekend. With all the budget airlines, it's sort of like buying a ticket to go to San Francisco for the weekend, about the same price, only when you get off the plane, instead of still being in the U.S. of A you're in Spain and once again you are clueless about what anyone is saying.

When I'm lucky enough to visit a city like Barcelona I'm struck by how international they are. The iconic buildings, instantly recognizable. The history. The vastness. How normal and ordinary it all seems to those who call it home. The sheer number and variety of people and languages being spoken. I made the mistake of hubris by ordering in Spanish once by combining the words on the menu with por favor and then having to awkwardly switch to English when the waiter's follow-up question was far beyond my ability to comprehend or respond to. No matter, he effortlessly switched to perfect English and I later heard him speaking French at another table. And in a bar later in the weekend, the bartender switched from Spanish to English to Russian without missing a beat, stole my heart, and wasn't even trying to show-off. What's my point? I don't know. Something like, Barcelona is one of those places that the world keeps arriving at and it's overwhelming and astounding - at once unfathomable yet also totally enjoyable and impressive.

The reason I went to Barcelona was to see it (of course) and because a friend of mine had invited me. See, when I worked at Lingo Systems for all those years I met a lot of people all over the world, but only via email, and over the years we became friends. When I left Lingo, a number of them very generously (foolishly?) told me I would be welcome to visit if I was ever in the neighborhood so to speak. When I got back in touch with my Barcelona friend she insisted I come to visit her and her husband and their dog Pepa. Thinking over her invite, I figured Barcelona was as good a place as any, if not better, to spend my 4th of July. And there it is. And here is Pepa doing yoga.


I'm not normally much for making lists except for the occasional grocery list or if there is something I need to remember to do later (which I guess isn't really a list but more of a note in which case, I'm a big one for making notes, but not lists). But anywhup, the point I'm trying to make is that I have decided to use the list format to recount my trip, but since I don't do many of them it might not be very good.

A List Of Things I Liked About Barcelona

I. Incredibly gracious, generous and warm hosts who opened their home to me, essentially a complete stranger, and went out of their way to make me feel welcome and share their city with me up until the day I left, even though after a few days, just like fish, I had probably begun to smell a little.

2. The hop-on-hop-off tourist bus. In a city this big, with so much to see so spread out, a bus that delivers you to the front door of most everything is fantastic.


Take the bus and all this will be yours.
I used the bus on Friday to "get the lay of the land" so to speak, and on Monday I used the Metro to re-visit those places I wanted to get a little longer look at. Which brings me to...

2a. The Metro. It's clean. It's affordable. It's a train arriving every two minutes convenient. It's air-conditioned. I love the Metro in Paris for its nostalgia inducing charm, but the Barcelona Metro smacks the Paris one around and makes it say, "Tío" or maybe "Oncle". It goes everywhere you want to be and blows cool air up your bloomers while doing it. And in Barcelona, cold air in your bloomers is awesome, like if you arrived at the Screen Door at 10am on Saturday morning and there was fresh coffee and no line. That kind of awesome.

3. La Boqueria.


I like food. No duh. So I liked this market, but this market is more than food. It's food art. It's like Pike Place Market or the PSU Farmer's Market but on steroids. Organic, locally-produced, seasonal steroids, but still, steroids. It's one of the more popular destinations to visit in Barcelona I gather. However, in my continuing quest to maintain my uninterrupted track-record of near total ignorance of each new place I visit I had no idea it existed and only stumbled upon it shortly before closing, otherwise I could have easily spent a couple hours wandering the aisles and ogling the merchandise. You know how Portland has a bunch of establishments where you can ogle the merchandise but you have to pay $1 to do so and you can't touch? Here you can touch and ogle for free! You have to see these pictures.

C. La Vaca Paca. It's only 10 Euros! A dining experience suited to the American abroad yet apparently enthusiastically embraced by both tourists and locals alike.

5. Drunk Dutch soccer fans. I was on La Rambla, a tourist heavy area when the Holland vs. Brazil World Cup match ended and a throng of about 100 oranje-clad Dutch fans danced and sang in jubilation over their victory, sweeping many unwary bystanders up and turning them Dutch for a moment. A distinctly nationalistic moment in an international city during a global event. The Rambla is fascinating. A wide, tree covered boulevard that connects the center of downtown Barcelona to the port by cutting through the center of the old part of town.


There are buskers and hustlers the entire way along it and while it's impossible to get lost on the Rambla, turn left or right into the gothic district and in moments you're wandering in circles or sitting on a bench drinking a cool beverage.


Not pictured: cool beverage.


VI. The Pool. On a Saturday where it was easily near 40 degrees, having this just outside your bedroom door was absolute luxury.



6. Seafood Paella and Sangria con Cava (Spanish champagne) on the beach for Sunday lunch. It's the perfect way to relax and prepare for the hottest part of the day and the perfect recipe for a siesta during the hottest part of the day.




I forgot to take a picture of it but the gin & tonic served as a digestif after the meal was astounding. In a large wine glass, no bigger than that, combine large chunks of ice and approximately 6 oz. of gin. Maybe it was 8 oz. It was enough that I thought to myself, "Wow, this is a big cocktail, two people could share this quite nicely," as I took my first sip only to discover that the glass just held gin. There was a small bottle of Schwepp's tonic on the side to add as appropriate.

8. The Architecture? I'm no expert, but apparently Barcelona is stuffed to the gills with architecturally marvelous and important buildings. Neat-o.





9,2. San Miguel Beer. Strangely, this beer has its roots in SE Asia, but it's served everywhere. I guess that makes it the PBR of Spain - originally from elsewhere but claimed by the locals. Everyone serves it in big, heavy, chilled mugs that instantly start to sweat in the heat with promises of vacationey goodness satisfaction.


Vacationey Goodness Satisfaction

10. Spain winning their semi-final. Fireworks, drums, screaming, car horns, dancing, flares, fires, a national celebration. I was Spanish for the moment. And I missed by a week the epic celebration following the final. My friend Isabel said she didn't go to work for the first three days the following week because of the fiesta everywhere.

A List Of Things I Didn't Like About Barcelona

1. The Heat. It was hot.

2. The Heat. Uncomfortably hot.

iii. Dutch Soccer Fans. I was rooting for Brazil in that match. Stop rubbing it in.

Quatro. The Heat. I mean really hot. Lead story on the Spanish nightly news hot.

But that's it. Nothing really.

It deserves another look. There are so many gardens and parks and other things to explore that due to the time I had, the size of the city, and sheer scope of options (and yes, the heat) I feel like I hardly took it all in. I just have to convince my friends they want this smelly salmon back.