Unfinished Business

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It was a pleasant, sunny mid-November Friday afternoon. The location - a back street bar in the Barcelonetta area behind the beach. 12 Euros. A 20 Euro note was handed over. Are you sure we heard correctly? The change duly arrived. There was no mistake - 8 Euros returned. 2 large, 1 small Estrella Dam. The price of Brexit and a collapsing £. After the Man in the Middle's chin had been retrieved from the floor, we had a philosophical discussion about the price of continental lagers in the John Borlaise Warren and an air of reality returned. We went on our merry way, although there would be no glory to find on a weekend when the international football calendar shut down the local big leagues. There would be little chance of seeing a resident of the NEPSR dressed in his Barca leisure shirt. A private joke. A man in Montreal can chuckle quietly to himself at this point.



We had taken a break from the usual conquest of the Balkan states. Luton swapped for the more convenient, but limited East Midlands. Trent Barton were in charge of the transport arrangements. The Other Half had insisted on temperatures a long way the right side of freezing, which can be rare commodity in Eastern Europe in November. The bucket and sand crew were assembling alongside us, ready to cause havoc in Benidorm on their Jet2. We waited patiently for the Ryanair gate number to appear. The last visit to Barcelona had been on 10 February 1996. I know this, because a football ticket bears witness to the demolition of Real Madrid by the local glory team. There would be no repeat of a 95,000 crowd on this trip. The plane touched down ahead of time at Barcelona Terminal 2. The scruffy walkway to the Metro was missing it's escalator, but had acquired some graffiti. A facelift was in progress. The 5 day BCN transport ticket popped out the machine - well it did, once the correct code from the online voucher had been keyed. It turned out to be much better value than our initial beer purchase. We booked a hostal in the Sant Andreu area - a way out the centre, but much better value than downtown. Hostal in Spain are just small hotels without the designated facilities to obtain "hotel" status. The accommodation did the job. We sauntered down the beach front, which didn't exist pre 1992 Olympics. The coastal industrial wastelands had been transformed courtesy of copious amounts of Egyptian sand, Olympic committee funding and palm trees from the USA. The palm trees were actually on loan, but never got repatriated post Games. Barcelona has now apparently nipped into 3rd place in the Europe's most visited city league - behind London and Paris - and relegating Rome from the bronze medal position. You can see why. The transformation from down at heel port city into international jet set resort is very much complete these days. The size of the luxury yachts in the marina before us bore testament to the attraction for the rich and famous. We headed back inland. The old Port of Barcelona building stood to our right. Christopher Columbus - once mistakenly thought of as a Catalan - points from his monument towards the New World. Well he is actually pointing to Morocco, but that is a minor detail.



We crossed on to Las Rambla. La Rambla is arguably the most famous street in the city and a magnet for all tourists. Alas, it is also a magnet for all the low life pickpockets and bag snatchers. The amount of police suggests the bad press is deserved. A series of mime artists etc stand motionless, moving only for photo opportunities and the sound of coin dropping in their collection. We had recovered somewhat from our earlier beer purchase, partially aided by noting that prices were somewhat higher here. A few bars advertised the England v Scotland World Cup qualifier, but we quickly dismissed the idea of staying to watch. It would be cheaper to fly back to Wembley. Niger Farage, Boris Johnson - you have a lot to answer for! We ended up in the Clot area, where liquid refreshment was less than half the price. There might be alcohol consumption on this trip after all. If you have read any of my previous blogs, you might have noticed the interesting phenomenon of modern day Europe. Nuremberg - the takeover of the pizza fast food business by Srilankans is complete. Barcelona - the bar business is being run by the Chinese. In England, we just close pubs down. Here in Barcelona, the new nail bar is the tapas bar. However, the price was right for us and they still serve tapas. The Man in the Middle reminisced about a cartoon character - Corporal Clot - and the beers flowed. We utilized our BCN 5 day ticket on the metro back to base. The metro is extensive and characterised by the same syndrome as London. Travellers warily eye each other up, keeping a close guard on their possessions. A number of journeys are interrupted by impromptu buskers - practicing to be the next Jake Bugg - whilst making a few bob. We retired early by Spanish standards, although it was noticeable that a number of the bars in the area near Fabio Puig Metro had already shut up before we got back.



After a breakfast of the finest Lidl products, we made our way to the Sagrada Familia - Gaudi's unfinished basilica. An important distinction apparently - a basilica and not a cathedral. There was a noticeable extension to the building since 1996, but it is still very much a work in progress. The light was atrocious for photography, but it hadn't stopped the masses descending. What must it be like at peak tourist season? The Gaudi Park behind the basilica was packed too. A number of stalls were promoting the Catalan independence movement. Another important distinction - this is Catalonia, not Spain. Flags flutter everywhere in Barcelona. They are usually one of 3 types - red and yellow stripes is the basic Catalan flag known as the Sanyera. The same flag with a white star on a blue pendant - the Estelada - is that supporting the idea of Catalan independence from Spain. The same flag with a red star on a yellow pendant is the hard core gang - those that want reclamation of old Catalan territory over the French border, as well as the idea of separation from Madrid. You learn something new everyday! Whilst flags fly everywhere in Barcelona, it is difficult to judge the mood on Catalan independence. They apparently had an unofficial vote - 70% in favour, but only a 30% turnout. This is a big, vibrant city and the majority are probably too busy getting on with their lives to worry about politics.



We went in search of the funicular railway up to the Olympic Park on Montjuic. The funicular was included in the metro ticket from the near Paral-lel. A cable car heads to the same place for a more sizeable sum of Euros from near the shopping centre on the Rambla extension into the marina. We paused by the Joan Miro Museum. A surrealist sculpture sits by the entrance. The park next door offered little. A lone trumpeter practiced under a rose canopy. He needed the practice! The Olympic Stadium was over the brow of the hill. As the centrepiece of the city's transformation, it remains on the list of tourist things to do and remains surprisingly free. It was briefly used for a total of 12 seasons as home to the second football club of Barcelona - RCD Espanol. After their compact old Sarria ground, it was too big and hugely unpopular amongst their fans. A series of concerts from Bowie to Madonna filled the gaps. The assumption would be that it was a new creation for the 1992 Olympics, although it was actually built in 1927 as part of the failed bid to get the 1936 Games. Today, it was consigned to hosting some form of family sports open day. Kids ran round the track. Others tamely shot football's at bored looking adult keepers. After the obligatory photos, we enjoyed a coffee in the former VIP section.



The stadium area drops away over a series of fountains towards the Plaza Espanol. The old Olympic swimming venue is looking a bit worse for wear to the right and the Saint Jordi Arena to the left. The futuristic telecommunications tower draws the eye. A series of cameras are taking artistic snaps all over the place. I was warned off taking a shot of a model on a pro shoot, just in case I leaked the winter range from Primark or such like!



After a brief sojourn to the Arc De Triomphe and a quick change, we headed to the most famous sporting venue of Barcelona - Camp Nou. As stated at the start of the blog ...been there, done that! So very 1996. We were headed to the Camp Nou Mini next door or at least we would be, if a ticket could located! Barcelona B play in Segunda B, a section of the regional Division 3. The enigma that is FC Barcelona loomed before us. The Camp Nou Mini is separated from the big brother stadium by the indoor arena used by the basketball and handball clubs. This is the ultimate sporting club, once envisaged as the European model. Tickets? Gate 5. We walked round the Mini complex...no tickets there. Camp Nou was gestured. Great! I left the others and wandered across, stopping to take a few snaps of giant Messi and Neymars characters on the facade. I asked a security guard, who gestured to walk through the megastore. It is a megastore in every sense of the word. The concourse was rammed with people. Cameras in hand, they revelled in all things Barcelona ........ except it seems any interest in Barca B. Why would you want to watch a match? Go on a tour. Buy another replica shirt. Get a Barca carrier bag to show the world you found a big shop full of merchandise. The sad world of the modern football fan. I found the ticket offices, but they were only in the market for selling the La Liga tickets for next week's encounter with Malaga. The Information counter opposite was more interested in flogging Camp Nou tours. The ticket office selling the Barca B game was outside the complex - 2 small non-descript windows, seemingly miles away from the Mini stadium. It is no wonder they don't get a crowd. It was now only 20 minutes to kick off, so it was fortunate that the interest was minimal.....and the interest that was there came from the opposition Badalona fans. A small group of Germans considered a purchase, decided against it and wandered off down the street. I returned to the others with 3 X 6 Euro tickets. Meanwhile, they been inundated by touts. As with all things Spanish football tickets, socio members buy on their discount price lives and try to sell on at a profit. Touts I ask you.......... for a game that would lucky to get a tenth of the capacity?

And so to the football......a compact 15,000 all seat stadium with acres of room. We checked our tickets. Gate 9. Gate 9 wasn't even open. We were ushered to Gate 11. It was very much sit where you like, despite the allocated seat on the ticket. Upper or lower. We opted for the lower to be lose to the action. The 200 or so Badalona fans were in the upper to the right of us and the 30 or 40 Barcelona "ultras" with a flag were in the lower behind the opposite goal. They would see nothing. As the 1st team wasn't playing due to the internationals, perhaps there would be a sizeable crowd. No chance. The poor man's Messi team couldn't provide an alternative draw for the fans. "You got no fans", we mused - well there were 1928 of them, but still a poor show The seats left a film of dust on my jacket, suggesting under use. A substantial weed grew on the concrete step near us. I like a good weed photograph and some fine specimens were observed on a recent trip into Macedonian Division 2. However to find such neglect at this massive club is frankly unbelievable. The pitch was a bowling green .... if you can't play on that surface, you can't play on anything (as they said to Redcar Town at Eston Leisure Centre). Barcelona B had no excuse then, as they well and truly taught a lesson by their visitors. They passed the ball bout making pretty patterns and going nowhere usually, except backwards! The pace of the movement was no better than another team with FCB logo on their chest, who don't get beyond the 4G pitch down Forest Fields on a Thursday. It finished 3-1 to the visitors and you wonder exactly what the point is of running the team. There are no obvious players who will be breaking down the door to get in the big stadium next door and they clearly aren't interested in getting a crowd or selling any tickets!



We wandered off into the night to take a few snaps of the Sagrada Familia under floodlights. A rat ran across the path in the park opposite the basilica, keen to clean up the tourist rubbish of the day. He might well do Barca B a favour and dispose of one or two of their players.



Appendix 1

Segunda Division B (Group 3)

FC Barcelona B 1 CF Badalona 3

Date: 11 November 2016 @ 1800 Hours

Venue: Estadi Mini, Camp Nou, Barcelona

Attendance: 1928

Barcelona B: Suárez, Palencia, Moisés, Fali (Xemi, 72 Mins), Marlon, Martínez (Perea, 46 Mins), Nili (Carbonell, 36 Mins), Gumbau, Dani Romera, Marc Cardona, Álfaro.

Badalona: Morales, Moyano, Robusté, Aleix Coch, Fran Grima, Sergio Maestre, Moha (Enric Pi, 82 Mins), Toni Lao, Iván Agudo (Gerard Oliva, 75 Mins), Sandro (Víctor García, 54 Mins), Musa.

Goals: 0 -1 Agudo (CF Badalona) 34 Mins. 0-2 Moha (CF Badalona) 39 Mins. 0-3 Toni Lao (CF Badalona) 57 Mins. 1-3 Romera (FC Barcelona B) 86 Mins.

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Photos

Barcelona
How much??

Comments

[Rainyb]

Great photos!

[Home and Away]

Beer is much cheaper on the Camino de Santiago...
1 - 1.50 euros for a bottle. I guess you were paying a "cover charge."