Barcelona Day 6

Great night’s sleep. Binged at the breakfast bar. Have I related how delicious Spanish coffee is. It is! Have noticed how the Spanish are not as enamored of crisp bacon as Americans are. On the other hand, Spanish bacon seems richer, more flavorful and less salty. Have been starting my day with a mixture of grains from their cereal bar, some of which contain tiny chocolate curls. Topping this with walnuts and whole milk. Getting spoiled.

Off to catch a bus and do more walking.

So, we caught the #7 bus uptown to the head of the Las Ramblas walkway, well shaded in the morning sun and the 99% humidity. Don’t let anyone fool you, the humidity in Barcelona is wearing. We walked the length of the tree-lined walk, stopping a time or two for souvenirs and for gelato. Reaching the end, we were again faced with Christopher Columbus’s fourth century, towering statue commemorating his return from the new world. We walked on to the boardwalk to capture pictures of the whimsical bay buoys and the Sail Hotel.

From there we walked a mile or so to the waterfront Historical museum, a wondrous linear journey through the history of the Catalan region. From primitive times through Roman times, through the rule of the church, monarchy and the Islam invasion during the Middle Ages. The ongoing theme up to and beyond Franco’s rule was liberalism vs. conservativism, springing from the haves begrudging the have nots. Revolutions and risings sprang up again and again and again. Along the way, we wandered through a massive book outdoor book fair, two aisles of close to a hundred publisher and book store stalls from all over Spain, including several stages where authors and interviewers were in active conversations before small audiences.

One thing we learned that impressed us was how vitally important the Catalan region has been to the health and wealth of the Spanish nation. Barcelona and Catalan in general were vital to the industrial growth of the nation, situated as it was between France, Italy, and the nearby African states, it intercepted and incorporated new and at times radical ideas. Fiercely nationalistic, even today it has retained its own national identity, language and flag. Curiously, at one point Jenny asked her phone for the Spanish to English translation on a menu and she was told no – she should would have to ask for the Catalan definition. Surprised us both.

I was most impressed with the Museu d’História de Catalunya. Its displays were not cramped but broad and colorful, often interactive and provided human sized reproductions, building constructions, and representations of historical commerce and warfare. Particularly impressed with the way the museum directors took the visitor right up to the present time, describing how life had changed for men and women and for various occupations after Franco’s repression.

Following our museum tour, we happily sped off to our primary stop of the day the Restaurant Aqua on the waterfront. It was there we were eager to try what we understood to be the finest paella in the city. The trip to the restaurant was delightful. It was similar to walking along a California boardwalk, the skaters, and musclemen and bikinied beauties. The sailboats were out today and my sailor wife was longing to be on one.

We found the Aqua Restaurant entrance on the boardwalk but had to descend stairs as it was located beneath the boardwalk, level with the sand. Ordered a bottle of red Sirrah, tomato bread, and paella.  While we waited for our order we watched the boats and the surfers on the water while listening to rousing American rock and the loud exhortations of overweight American golfers at the next table.

When the paella was served, it looked magnificent, decorated as it was with four scallop half-shells their steamed former occupants sitting atop them. Traditional paella is served in a one-purpose, shallow, round, iron pan with sloped sides and handles welded onto either side. The pan is served scalding hot. It contains a wealth of short-grained rice, scattered within were the shellfish, shrimp, squid tossed and cooked in a semi-spicy brown sauce. Not as impressive as we had been led to believe, but delicious nonetheless.

Polished the dish off in record time and went in search of a sailboat rental. No dice - unfortunately. Instead we set off for a popular brewery called Freddo Fox. Really friendly folks. Unfortunately it was not set up for tasting - no taps, no flights. All their beer was canned. We asked for the owner’s selections and ordered four different brews. Every one was excellent. Had a fine time drinking and attempting to converse with two Spanish couples on the other end of the table. Delightful time.

Back to the hotel to rest, refresh and write. Went out for dinner about 8:30 to a small Tapas Restaurant called Burgola. When we walked through the door we got such a wonderful greeting from the receptionist. She had been expecting someone else but didn’t let it show … much. She led us upstairs where we had a semi-secluded table with a view of the cook’s station. Not being terribly hungry we simply ordered two tapas (Small gourmet servings) Tuna Sushi with scallions & sesame miso sauce.    Pork Cheeks crispy kale and fig jam. As well as our usual tomato bread. Wine and Jameson’s topped it off. A lovely evening was had – but quickly. So tired we forgot to take pictures. We had to hurry back, sleep and rise early to travel south.

Buenas Noches, dear readers.

I am posting a selection of the thousands of pictures we took on Facebook. Look me up there and see what we saw!