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Published: April 24th 2008
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We spent about 2 days in Barcelona. Day one was a walkathon which started with us disembarking from the bus almost in the middle of a busy street and catching a taxi to the friend of a friends house where we were staying. It would only have been €5 but they charge per piece of luggage, and while you would be justified in charging for the big bags, you would have to be a thieving arsehole to charge for the matching red side satchels, which is exactly what he did and exactly what Julianne called him, in Spanish.
Anyway, that little incident over, we embarked on our day tramp which took in cathedrals, a champagne bar, the beach (with no one on it), the market where the art of fruit stacking has to be seen to be believed (they all must have OCD), tree lined streets also lined with statue buskers and pet stalls, a fantastic Metro system which even counts down the seconds to the next train, magnificent ancient and beautiful modern architecture, cobble stones by the million, a walk up to the city lookout where we took stock and consumed a well earned beer and a packet of chips
and finally a walk back in to town as it was getting dark .
We stopped at a Plaza which seemed to be the dog party area. There had to be about 20 dogs all running around playing with each other. Big ones, small ones and munter ones. Everything was peaceful until a Dachsund arrived (owner in tow) and was intent on following and harassing a much larger golden retriever who was perhaps on heat. The randy little bugger carried on like this for about 5 minutes until someone (dog) got pissed off, and decided to take him out. All of a sudden there were yelps and squeals, people came running to pull them apart, dogs came running to join the fray and there ensued a brief melee, after which the whole social mood of the dogs seemed to change, they all got tense and stopped playing with each other. The stupid little sausage dog which had caused it was pulling a bit of a Hollywood I think, not unlike a football player who goes down clutching his foot or shin, writhing in agony, definitely going to be stretchered off and season over but then 1 minute later he’s
up and running around again after coaxing a yellow card out of the ref.
It’s a handsome place by night too, as all the best buildings are lit from below, bringing out features and a change in perspective that isn’t really seen during the day.
And there’s always people, Barcelona is hustling and bustling with locals, tourists, beggars and thieves, until just after 2pm, when this odd thing called Siesta happens. Lindo and I couldn’t believe it! The streets almost shake themselves free of their mass of humanity, shops and cafes are closing and there are suddenly half shut roller doors everywhere. I was an avid reader of Asterix books as a young fella, and they were having Siesta back in 50BC, but it really took me by surprise to see that a modern city simply stops and has a nap for 2 hours.
Next day was a catch our breath day. Julianne left us around 1pm to go back to her country retreat and we managed to catch up on some sleep, rest our legs and do some hard out internet gaming. We’re really getting into Medal of Honour: Allied Assault and were finding it hard
to fit all the sightseeing in around some decent game time.
Actually, that last bit was a lie.
Although I did spend a couple of hours trying to catch up on the blog. I think the key to efficient blogging may be to have a laptop, which I don’t have, rather than relying on internet cafes and our hosts computers!
So anyway, at the end of this lazy day off (being a successful tourist is quite hard work) we are catching an overnight train to a little city called Bilbao. And we’ve booked ourselves a sleeper cabin again! I really wasn’t keen, I was prepared to just sit in a comfy reclining seat, but Lindo is still traumatised by lying in the aisle of the overnight bus from Tokyo to Osaka and I cant quite convince him otherwise.
I’m going to spare you the details, save to say it was worse than the first one and will only serve to bring the mood of this chapter down. We didn’t get woken up by men with guns this time, I just didn’t really get to sleep in the first place!
But the morning breaks and so I go off in
search of a proper seat with a window . We are clickety-clacking past quaint little villages where the inhabitants are beginning to wake and it’s all very picturesque. The chimneys poking out through the red tiled roofs are eminating wisps of smoke and the red tail lights of cars are visible as they back out of their garages and down the driveways in the dawn stillness.
How's the serenity
Olza
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