BARCELONA

DAY 1:  All our flights were on time and we landed in Barcelona at 1:30 p.m., about 20 hours after leaving Antigonish.   We opted for the local bus into the city and were dropped at Playa Cataluyna, a square at the end of La Ramblas.  La Ramblas is a mile-long street, dividing the old city, and has both pedestrian and vehicle sections.   Our small hotel is situated on a side street about ½ km from where the bus dropped us.  Fortunately it was downhill so I managed to push our new ulta-light cases (the cases are light, not the contents).

The desk clerk was very chatty and noted that we were very fortunate to have paid Expedia in advance.  As there was a major football game (soccer) taking place last night all rooms in the city were filled, despite a quadrupling of the regular rates.   He then advised a walk through the Gothic district (just across La Ramblas) as a way to spend some time until supper.

Having been warned repeatedly that La Ramblas was the pick-pocket capital of Europe, I armed myself a credit card stashed in a zippered shirt pocket,  and we headed out to the labyrinth of pedestrian streets lined with small shops and tapas bars.  Despite the dreadful Spanish economy the streets were crammed with shoppers, street musicians, and only a few beggars.

Just as some church clock struck 7:00 our four feet announced that they were going on strike and would only take us as far as the next tapas bar.  We were met at the door by a young woman who informed us that she had one street table remaining and that we should cross the street and seat ourselves.  By the time we reached the table it was occupied by a young man seemingly having oral sex with his cellphone.  However, he was quickly evicted and our feet moaned sighs of relief.

Despite being very, very busy our young Argentinian waitress carefully described each of the items on a long menu and we eventually ordered plates of tomato bread, spicy potatoes, cod fritters, croquettes, and fried chorizo.  Soon our small sizzling cask-iron pans of food arrived along with the recommended bottle of house wine from Penedes.  The food was excellent, although the wine bottle was barely large enough to wash it all down.

Tapas bars price their food according to where it is eaten.  There is a premium price for outside tables, and a discounted price for sitting at the bar.  Nonetheless, the bill only came to 38 Euros.  Spaniards rarely tip and our lovely young waitress became quite emotional when I slipped her a 5 Euro note after entering my pin number on the card machine.

The above tapas bar was the traditional style but there is another type that we are hoping to try one of these nights.   At a Basque tapas bar one self-selects individual tapas from platters (rather than ordering  plates of tapas as we had done).  Each item is impaled with a toothpick and at the end of the night one multiplies the number of toothpicks by some constant (such as 1.95) and that is what is owed.

DAY 2:  We woke to brilliant sunshine and a temperature of 24 c.  Given the size of the crowds and the warm November temperatures  I can’t imagine visiting here in the summer tourist season.

Today we planned on touring the city on the hop-on/hop-off bus.  Our first hop-off was the Guell Park.  The Guell Park was designed by Gaudi in the early 20^th century as a housing development for the well-to-do.  However, it was a spectacular failure, in part because there was no public transportation, and eventually the development was given to the city.  There are some interesting sights, but some of Gaudi’s modernistic masterpieces are a tad strange.  The 350 foot long park bench made of broken dishes I found to be particularly underwhelming.

After a hop-off for a random lunch we continued until around 4:30; at which point Betty and I had a slight miscommunication and she got off the bus and I didn’t.    Eventually we met back at the hotel,  at which time we walked up La Ramblas stopping to buy a 1 Euro sandwich to have with our 3 Euro bottle of wine.  This should tide us over until dinner, which we expect to have after the guitar concert we are planning to attend at 9:00 p.m.

The guitarist played to standing room only and he was exceptional.  Perhaps Spanish guitarists are simply better than North Americans attempting to play Spanish guitar.    On our way to the concert we walked by a restaurant highly recommended by Rick Steeves.  The line-up to get in was half-way across the square.   After the concert we went back to the restaurant and although it was still full we did manage a seat.  The meal (shellfish bisque, salad, duck confit) and wine (Cava followed by Rioja) was superb and the price equivalent to going out for pizza at home.  I think one should never go to Europe without a Rick Steeves guide book.