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Published: April 1st 2009
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Gaudi is a Genius
I loved this mosaic at Park Guell Gaudi; what a guy. A name I've heard many times, I actually had no idea how important he was before my trip last weekend to Barcelona, much less imagined he had shaped and represented the culture of an entire city with his mosaics! If you're bad with name associations, as I am, you might say "aha!" upon seeing his colourful sculptures of geckos and curvaceous candy-colored buildings. Either way, if you visit Barcelona, there is no escaping his omnipresent style.
I ended up there quite on a whim after impulsively booking a cheap flight aboard Europe's infamous low-cost carrier, RyanAir. My goal was to fly cheap and get warm and Spain availed itself to both criteria during my search for discounted tickets, though the trip wasn't exactly what I imagined it would be. Enticing as the 0€ price of my ticket was, I spent 7 hours (one way) in transit between Paris and Barcelona since RyanAir uses airports over 100km outside of either city; and I paid a pretty Euro for return shuttle-bus tickets to and from each airport. Since my travels are more about the journey than the destination, it was still interesting to experience the no-frills sensation of
riding a flying Greyhound bus (something we can't do in Canada thanks to the West Jet - Air Canada duopoly) across Europe.
Inconveniences aside, Barcelona was an ideal weekend getaway. Though I was a little nervous to find my hostel, Hello BCN, located in seedy mugger-central, the prison-like security system (this is a good quality in a hostel), clean, airy rooms and friendly staff put me at ease as soon as I'd checked in. And in the end, its location was close enough to tourist-laden La Rambla, without the late-night noise...not that any of the guests got much sleep!
On my first night, after an afternoon of self-guided walking tourism, I was approached by Kat, an outgoing Slovenian tour-guide from Greece, as I sat in the crowded main floor lobby-bar writing about how much I had enjoyed my solo exploits. Kat quickly sensed my singleness and invited me to join the international crowd of travelers she'd met during her last four days at the hostel. Though I had planned to spend the weekend enjoying my own company, there was no going back once I met these new potential companions.
From spiritual conversations with Pakistani-born Aku to history
lessons with American Sword and girl talk with Kat herself there was enough of a party going on at the hostel to keep us up until 3am that night. The next day, inspired by Kat's friendliness, I made friends with the new-comers to my dorm room and spent a rainy Saturday exploring and interpreting the wacky artwork at the Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona (MACBA) with young American Tyler before sharing Tapas and travel-talk at the nearby Raxeria with Bayu, an oil and gas reservoir engineer from Indonesia. Back at the hostel I reminisced about my favourite Calgary hot spots with Calgarian Nicole and compared the virtues of Eastern Canada vs West with Torontonian John. With so many exciting discussions to be had it was another late night before we finally fell into our bunk beds to rest up for a Sunday full of walking.
Up early enough for breakfast but too slow to leave before lunch time Nicole and I amassed a group of 10 before we actually set out for the Placa Espanya and Gaudi's Park Guell. Together with Tyler, a fascinating Israeli-American new arrival named Ilana and a group of German cabinet-makers, we trekked past the
magic fountain (where we had stood just the night before, in the pouring rain, waiting for a promised sound-and-light show that never took place) to appreciate the austere straight lines and cold-coloured marble and glass of the anti-Gaudian Mies van der Roe Pavillion. We bade the Germans farewell after a short lesson about their compatriot's seemingly incongruous significance in this vibrant city and climbed the steps of the Museu National d'Art de Catalunya (MNAC) to admire the panorama of la Placa and its backdrop of church-topped hills.
After Tyler left us to visit the Dali museum, Nicole, Ilana and I caught the metro to the Park enjoying, as we went, Ilana's tales of a decade spent in Israel, career as a nurse-turned-holistic-healer and countless other tidbits about her brave and adventurous life. Diminutive as our group had become, we seemed to have some good karma going between the three of us. From a chance meeting with a Frenchman from Italy who helped me tell my companions the story of Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist," to a spell-binding Uruguayan musician bringing the colours and curves of Park Guell to life with his steel-drum-like "Hang" who promised to mail Ilana his CD
Heavenly Music
Appealing to visitors to la Cathedrale in exchange for her sending him a book of her choosing, our afternoon was nothing less than magical.
It took me some time to feel comfortable alone again after leaving Nicole and Ilana to discover the mountaintop monastery at Tibidabo while I caught the Renfe train to Girona. With a flight back to France at 6:50 Monday morning and at least an hour's bus ride between Barcelona and the Girona airport, I had decided, regretfully, to spend my last night where I could be sure of catching public transit in the morning.
My arrival after the drowsy train ride filled me with a mix of emotions - appreciation for the quaintness of the old quarter as I rolled in at sunset countered by awkward loneliness and disappointment at the emptiness of the streets and the blandness of the Cerveri de Girona hostel where I was staying. In the end I made the most of my hours before bedtime to spook myself out on Girona's eerie streets, enjoy the flirtatious attention of two waiters at L'Arcada tapas bar and indulge in a Xocolata en Tassa (a sinful cup of a hot-chocolate-meets-chocolate-pudding confection) and felt satisfied as I retired that
Tapas Delights
Ready for the picking I had savoured the most important parts of the quiet Catalan town. Quiet was not a bad way to end my weekend, anyway, as I managed to squeeze in a few more hours of sleep before coming back to "work" at Juju and L-Daddy's.
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Karl
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Barth'a lona
Hi Em Isn't Barcelona great!! One of my favorite cities. Too bad you didn't get to see the fountain in action. It actually quite impressive. I didn't see any Sangria in your photos. I hope you sampled at least a glass. I recall it was very very good. It is still snowing in Calgary. Should be green by July :) Safe Journey Karl