Barcelona Day 5
Great night’s sleep. Rolled out of bed at 6:15, ready to go. Exited our hotel before the sun was fully up. The streets were fairly deserted. A couple of storeowners were on the sidewalk readying for the day and I saw a small homeless woman walk out of an alley ahead of us. I looked away briefly and when I looked back she seemed to have disappeared. She hadn’t. She was squatting and relieving herself in the gutter – a reminder that there is always poverty in the midst of plenty. That said, all but two of the beggars we saw on the street appeared hearty, healthy and clean clothed. Those who did not, received my donations.
Stopped at an early open coffee shop for coffee and a ham and cheese crescent, then on to our next transportation adventure – buses. Back when we visited the Tram station we purchased general tram/bus passes for 20 Euros each, That allowed us unlimited rides for the month (so it should cover our six day stay). Busses run on an acceptable schedule, every 7-15 minutes. Barcelona buses appear new and super clean. When entering there are two card machines one on either side of the aisle. You slip in your card, just like slipping in the hotel key card. Once it registers it beeps and spits it back out. Routes are easily found at each bus stop and also on-line accessible by phone.
We arrived at the point of our Julia Tour’s departure, located in the lower level of the city’s bus station. Checking in, we were not entirely sure if it was to be a walking tour or a bus tour. Turns out it was both. A girl at the counter handed us tickets, ear bud packets and battery-operated ear receivers. Our tour guide introduced himself as Hugo. He gathered the ten of us, an Indian couple, a Chinese couple, a couple from Canada, one from Georgia and us. We started off at 8:15.
Hugo took us walking 8-10 blocks through what he called the old city or the “Gothic section.” That is to say where the city began and expanded from. On our way to and from the old city he waxed rhapsodic on the school of modernism which transformed much of the architecture in the city. Gaudi, whom I spoke of yesterday, represented its extremes. Early on we were shown Barcelona’s magnificent brick Arco de Triunfo de Barcelona built for the 1888 World’s Fair. We were told unlike other such arches this had nothing to do with war – funny thing was, because of his Catalan accent we kept hearing WARFARE every time he said WORLDFAIR. It confused everyone.
Barcelona it turns out was originally called Barcino, settled by a retired Roman Legion. Laid out on a north-south, east-west axis. With a huge central common area surrounded by dwellings stores and government offices. All of which were then surrounded by great stone walls. One entrance arch, several partial columns and many of the ancient stone blocks can still be seen incorporated into later construction. In time intolerant Roman rule met the obstinate Christian faith and born of this was St. Eulalia a thirteen-year-old martyr in training.
Legend says Eulalia defied the local governor with her religious intolerance. He ignored her for a while but ultimately saw the necessity of shutting her up. She is said to have been assigned 13 tortures one for each of her young years. The eighth of these was being confined in a barrel studded with sharp metal points which was then rolled down a hill. UGH! Another legend spoke of her deceased body being carried to its grave becoming so heavy at one point that no one could lift it. An angel was said to point to a pall bearer who had stolen one of the saint’s toes to keep as a relic. When it was retrieved and placed with the body the weight was lifted and the pall bearers carried on. YAY?
We were shown a magnificent Gothic church which looked as if it were ancient only to learn that the detailed stonework had only been installed for that 19th century World’s Fair I mentioned earlier. It was paid for by a rich merchant who soon after was elected mayor of the city. We were shown how hundreds of locals were uprooted and their dwellings torn down and even churches uprooted and moved stone by stone. An early form of gentrification.
Before exiting the Gothic Section, we followed our guide into the Jewish quarter where we learned how this large, successful settlement was emptied due to the Alhambra Decree of 1492 (The same year Columbus sailed the ocean blue – remember?) Jews were either killed, converted or expelled from the country. However, their influence was such that the great hill overlooking the city retains the name Montjuïc, meaning “Jewish Mountain.” Traces of a historic Jewish cemetery can still be found there. We paused for a snack and potty stop. Took time out to have an Estrella Damm, a popular Spanish beer - robust lager with a bit of bitterness.
We boarded a bus bound for the hill Hugo had just described. Cable cars run from the top of Montjuïc to several points across the city. Hugo took us on a brief ride in one. Elsewhere on the hill we were introduced to the massive fortress Castellde Montjuïc, the Fundació Joan Miró Art Museum and several magnificent structures built for the 1992 Summer Olympics.
Reboarding the bus, we descended the hill and drove through the city as Hugo pointed out its modernistic architecture, particularly Gaudi designed structures, like the Sagrada Familia which we toured yesterday. If I hadn’t mentioned it, riding in enclosed conveyances in Spain always requires a mask, so wrapped in a mask while feeling the exertion of walking and the effects of the beer I found myself nodded off. Jenny poked me, whenever I required poking.
Tour over, we said goodbye to Hugo and headed for a Doner Kebab place we’d passed by earlier. Oh my gosh, was it ever delicious. We were first introduced to the dish in Berlin. It consists of shaved chicken or beef or a combination of both over a handful of lettuce and tomato in a pita bowl, drizzled with a creamy mystery sauce and hot sauce. That, fries and another beer had us feeling serene. Back on a city bus, back to the hotel and back to the computer. Have to get ready and dress up for tonight’s Flamenco performance.
Took a bus downtown to the City Hall Theater. Arrived 45 minutes early so we ordered a bottle of wine and shared it at a tented table outside the venue. The restaurant staff were overwhelmed. No smiles, no welcoming – facial expressions bordered on panic. The busboy sent to serve our wine had never done it before. The cork broke. Someone else arrived with a new bottle of wine and managed to get it uncorked, but we had to drink fast as our stage time rapidly approached. The hors d’ouevres we ordered never arrived. Time was ticking so we slammed down the last gulp, paid the bill and scrambled inside.
Entering a long dark, black hall past several twists and turns we found ourselves in a dark underground entertainment hall. Rows of padded seats faced a large red velvet curtain. Behind us, on the other end of the hall, was a bar where visitors turned in their drink tickets received at the venue entrance. The lights dimmed and soft guitar strains wafted out from behind the curtain. The curtain raised to reveal two guitarists seated stage right. A large gentleman sat beside them centerstage and beside him an older woman, half his size. The Guitarists sped up their strumming while the other two clapped steady beat while singing a mournful chant. Four dancers, one man and three women, emerged from the wings, tapping and spinning their way across the stage.
What can I say about Flamenco? In a word – intense.
In ones, twos and threes they appeared to stomp out a story. Sometimes it was sad, sometimes exuberantly happy. Sometimes intensely fierce. All four dancers were dressed in traditional costume and performed far more professionally than the bleak surroundings of the venue would have suggested. I observed that the women’s movements seemed natural, flowing and despite their constant exertion, appeared unfatigued. The man stomped up a storm but danced only half as much as the ladies. By the end of the performance he remained dignified but appeared worn our. Throughout the performance the two singers wailed in Catalan. When not singing, they kept the beat by clapping furiously.
Flamenco. It is an experience not to be missed should you ever visit this part of the world!
Left the theater feeling invigorated. Less than a block away we supped at a contemporary restaurant called Honest Greens. It is a very popular two-level eatery, packed at 9:00 p.m. When I entered the queue I had 20 people ahead of me waiting to order. The restaurant theme as the name suggests is healthy, wholesome dishes, vegetables and salads and all the many and varied toppings one might wish for, but protein was also on the menu. Jenny ordered Beef Chimichuri. I ordered Peri Peri Chicken. Both came with greens and whole grain toast. Excellent – excellent. So excellent, that we gobbled it all up without taking a picture.
It has been a very full day. Took the bus back. Didn’t get lost. Sleep now.
Buenas Noches.
I am posting a selection of the thousands of pictures we took on Facebook. Look me up there and see what we saw!