We Found Barcelona, Salut


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Europe » Spain » Catalonia » Barcelona
July 10th 2012
Published: July 10th 2012
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On top of Montjuic On top of Montjuic On top of Montjuic

From way up here, we planned our route for the rest of the day.
Five weeks into this adventure, and I leaving France for the first time. Just as the French way of life was taking roots, I was going to pull them right out. The past few weeks have been rainy and cold in Nantes, my arms and legs that have been covered up with long sleeves and pants and were begging to see some sun. It is kind of weird trying to go somewhere warmer during the month of July. My apologies for all those withering away back in America, that thought probably sounds just dreadful with the heat wave. Nonetheless, I was ready for some sun.

A novel destination was awaiting me in the South. As the airplane tires came to a stop, my fellow passengers (wrapped up in fall clothing from the brisk weather in Nantes) and I, hopped off the plane, we were welcomed with a pleasant hot and humid breeze. The bright sun was sending good vibes through my bones, causing the corners of my mouth to turn up. In all my years of existence, I have never been so happy to see the sun this late in the summer. Realizing I had just arrived in the beautiful
Museu Nacional d'Art de CatlunyaMuseu Nacional d'Art de CatlunyaMuseu Nacional d'Art de Catlunya

If only we could read Catalonian...
city of Barcelona, made my smile reach new heights.

Barcelona. A place so famous, and yet so unfamiliar to me, had left me curiously asking questions before my arrival. Somewhere between history lessons on guillotines, an English king with six wives, Robin Hood, the Industrial Revolution, plagues, the running of the bulls and the World Wars, Barcelona's history, culture, and sights were left out, only to be discovered on this very weekend.

Thankfully, my aimless wandering, in a city I knew nothing about, would not be a lonely one. A classmate of mine was in Barcelona two weeks ago, but missed out on a few things on her bucket list, so I asked if she cared to join me. I should have warned her that traveling with me is no easy task. We would probably (most definitely) get lost, miss a few (dozen) trains, have to fight a bull for a cup of coffee, and the chances of getting home were 50/50. But through the excitement of getting to the city, I didn't have time to write out a waiver listing all the warnings. So she agreed to come along.

Arriving Thursday afternoon was the best time to test the waters of Barcelona. The weekend crowds hadn't arrived just yet, and in Spain the afternoon is mandated, my some imaginary law, to shut down for the locals to take a siesta during the mid-afternoon heat. This gave us some time to get our barring and settle in without having to wiggle through a million people.

Knowing nothing about a city, was actually pretty cool. We had no agenda. It didn't matter where we went, or when we got there, all we had to do was enjoy it and that is the easiest part. Everything that we saw was a like a unexpected treasure. Everything we missed meant nothing, because we never knew it was there in the first place. After dropping off our bags, we grabbed a map and started doing what I do best; walking in the general direction of nowhere.

On our artsy looking map, was revealing a large green space labeled Parc de La Citutadella, with lots of other buildings highlighted. Park, highlighted buildings (why they were highlighted, we didn't know. Hopefully it wasn't a warning sign saying stay back), beautiful evening, why not? There was bound to be some hidden charms
After getting rather lost After getting rather lost After getting rather lost

We still managed to see the city at night!
in a park.

We were greeted by an unknown man riding a horse looking rather fierce. Exchanging oh and ah's, we realized that the statue meant literally nothing to us. The plaque commemorating the famous man was in Catalonian (they don't speak Spanish in Barcelona), so his purpose for guarding the park was a mystery to use. Standing at its base, we got our first true glimpse of Barcelona, and it had much more to offer then cheap beer, topless beaches, and pick pockets. The scene was mesmerizing, old gothic statues and museums, streets lined with tropical trees, red dirt paths occupied by smiling people enjoying the outdoors, an Arc de Triumph Barcelona style, art deco light posts and builds covering the land all the way to far away mountain ridge.

Taking it all in we spotted a beacon of light on top of the distant mountain range. Too small to make out its purpose, but too big to be nothing, we decided that getting to the top of the mountain and getting to that...thing, was something we needed to do. Looking over the city, from all the way up there would be like nothing we had seen
My early morning sanctuary My early morning sanctuary My early morning sanctuary

This must be as peaceful as the city gets.
before. Oh and we also saw a golden statue shinning in the sun, just over the tree-line to our left. For the time being that was a much more realistic goal to reach, the...thing on top of the mountain would require some serious planning for it was a ways off.

Weaving our way through runners, people walking their dogs, dogs walking their people, couples getting a little too comfy in public, and other explores like ourselves, we came upon the golden statue. It was much more than just a statue, it was a fountain like none I had ever seen. Dragons spitting water were clearing the way for a goddess of some sort, who was clearing the way for a golden Greek god riding a golden chariot as he thundered through the park towards the ocean. They obviously weren't moving but with some imagination it was terrifying awesome. Barcelona was quickly racking up points as coolest city in Europe. Brittany and I decided that we would need to get a guide book or something, all the unnamed characters scattered around town would mean a lot more if we knew their names and their purpose.

After our fountain find,
Market La Boqueria  Market La Boqueria  Market La Boqueria

Open its doors in 1217
we sauntered through the medieval streets of el Born, Ciutat Vella (the gothic quarter), then crossed over La Rambla (pick pocket central) and finally into el Raval taking in the sights, the smells, the noises, and the feeling of uneven cobble stones beneath our feet, on a beautiful summer night. Getting lost, not only in the city, but in conversation, we were suddenly on the other side of the city rather far from where we started. A drink was in need if we were going to make it home, without dying of thirst. Finding a pleasant looking square, we plopped down at a cafe and were about to order two glasses of wine for about ten euros a pieceā€¦ Wait I thought Barcelona was supposed to be cheap! Trying to figure this mystery, I spotted the size listed next to the price in fine print. It all made sense, the red wine was sold by the bottle, not by the glass. If we had order two bottles of wine, the walk home would have been nearly impossible through the endless turns and side streets.

Losing track of time while polishing off our bottle, our friendly waiter informed us that
Fresh fruitsFresh fruitsFresh fruits

I had never seen so much fresh food in all my life.
it was time we head home. A bit confused, we asked why. Apparently we were not in the best of neighborhoods. Ah, yes it was time to get moving. The red wine taking its drowsy toll after a long day of traveling and walking, we found bright and busy roads to get back safely. Wallets, purse, backpack, and passports all in check, deep sleep came easy.

Waking up to a beautiful sunny Saturday morning, I was looking forward to a day of excessive walking and the exploration of Barcelona. Our only goal was to go and see that...thing looming on top of the mountains just north of the city. Whatever fell in between here and there would only add to our delight. As we walked along the port, we passed mega yachts (the ones that look like cruise ships), snack bars selling crepes and waffles (I thought that was a French and Belgian thing), and a nice looking man balancing at the top of a 200-Ft poll. This was the statue of the world famous Christopher Columbus. Map in one hand, and an out stretched finger with the other, I thought he was giving the new world he discovered
Live fish! Live fish! Live fish!

Some of these bad boys were still flapping their fins, probably just trying to keep warm while laying on a bed of ice.
a shout out. But he was actually pointing home towards his alleged home of Genoa.

As we passed Mr. Columbus, a growing green mountain, casting a shadow over the neighborhoods near by was getting closer and closer. Delicately placed on top of this green mountain was a castle guarding over the Mediterranean Sea and the city. Deciding that the long trudge up a billion stairs, and dirt paths winding up the side of the mountain, would be worth the sight. So we spent the next, rather warm, hour walking to the top of Montijiuc. Breathing heavily, a sense of pride was shared once we saw other (lazy) tourists stepping out of air conditioned buses and trams carrying numerous sight seers to the top. We conquered the mountain the old fashioned way, and we also conjured up an appetite.

Sitting on the walls of Castle de Montijiuc, we ate our sandwiches and drank our Cokes, looking out over the sea and busy industrial port of Barcelona. The previous night, before sleep took over, I downloaded Fodor's City Guide on Barcelona, so we would at least have some information on some of the attractions we came across. According to this
Barcelona Cathedral Barcelona Cathedral Barcelona Cathedral

Beautiful gothic structure
handy app, the fortress that was acting as the worlds biggest bench for us, was build in 1640. Unlike the fancy castles in France, where royalty lived the high life, this castle has a dark history. During the Spanish Civil War, many political prisoners were housed within the its walls, but were never to be seen again. We wouldn't let the dark past of the castle dampen our bright spirits, so we left it at that.

While soaking up the mid-afternoon sun and enjoying our sandwiches, we realized that the weekend crowd had arrived. A pact was then made, stating that if we saw mass crowds of people, we would go the other way.

Before making our trek back down the hill, we sat and observed the city from the mountain top. The scene before us was simply stunning. The city flooded the entire valley, its natural borders of green mountains and the sea was absolutely beautiful. The high altitude also made for a nice preview of sights that caught our eye down below. There were a few cool looking buildings that we would pass on our way down. Making mental notes of what the buildings look like
Gaudi Cascada Gaudi Cascada Gaudi Cascada

Dan and myself posing in front of the awesome fountain.
from above, we headed back towards the city.

As we descended the mountain top, we just wondered in the general direction of, what looked like a palace. The closer we got, the more we realized that it wasn't just a palace, but a grand palace. The lush green gardens, fountains, and little ponds that bordered the palace were very nice as they cancelled out the noise of tourist buses whizzing by. Then straight ahead towering above us, we found, the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. This elaborate building had to be filled with some pretty cool. Buying tickets, the overwhelming museum had too many corridors to visit in one day. It was broken up into separate times and styles of art, Romanesque art, Gothic art, Renaissance and Baroque art, Modern art, and drawings, prints and posters. Talk about a wide range of art. It was a wonderful but overwhelming museum. There was also a small problem, all the information listed below the paintings, statues, wood carvings and photographs was in Catalonian. This made it a little difficult to understand the biblical murals we were seeing depicting the life and times of a saint that ruled over Barcelona in the
Barri Gothic Barri Gothic Barri Gothic

Easiest place to get lost in time.
fifth century (what?). Although the air conditioned building was a nice escape from the growing heat outside. Trying to despiser what each article in the museum meant was pressing, so a siesta was called for.

Doing some research on my Fodor's app, before my nap, I found the name of the...thing towering over Barcelona-Tibidabo. Tibidabo is translated in English to "To Thee I Will Give." According Catalan legend, on top of this dominating hill, Christ was tempted by Satan with all of the riches of the world. Whoa, we HAD to see that! I then wrote down all of the public transit routes we needed to take on the mountain. After our long day of walking, there was no way we could make the journey on foot. The sun was beginning to get low, and if we timed it perfectly we would be able to watch the final rays of the Barcelona sun sink behind the distant mountains showering the city with golden light. That would be something neither of us would ever forget.

Buses 24 and 22 to Pl. Kennedy, then at Tibidabo, catch Tramvia Blau (Blue Trolley) which connects with funicular to summit, Barcelona, Catalonia. **Take
Nice looking cafe Nice looking cafe Nice looking cafe

Right behind us in a small cathedral, a wedding was taking place.
note! This is exactly what the Fodor's app said**

That was our plan, well my plan, Brittany had faith in me... She shouldn't have. The next hour became an upward spiral leading to disaster.

Plaza de Catalunya, is pretty much the center of Barcelona. Here just about all public transits have a stop, including one for bus route 24. (Refer to the previous paragraph, that is correct right? Yep, bus 24 and 22, they go to the same place). We bought our tickets for two euros, and somehow found two empty seats on a packed bus. Excitement was pouring over me. Every once and awhile, I caught sight of our destination looking down on us, willing us to come and visit. We were going to make it! The bus took us higher and higher, and my smile was getting bigger and bigger. The crowded bus began to shed its passengers. Next thing we knew, Brittany an I were the only two passengers left. Uhhh, had we missed the stop? Turning around, the bus driver said something that neither of understood in the least bit. Uh-oh. We just smiled at him and nodded. A minute later, he stopped the
Thanks for being... earnest Thanks for being... earnest Thanks for being... earnest

I seem to find myself in numerous places that Mr. Hemingway traveled too. (Paris, Barcelona, Up North, Sun Valley, Key West, Chicago) What's next? Kansas City or Africa?
bus, opened the doors, and stepped out to light a cigarette. I don't even know if there is a big enough word for the uh-oh that would be appropriate for what came next. We got out of the bus and there stood our Tibidabo...on the complete other side of a valley we had never seen before! Not only that, the bus was obviously not going that way anytime soon. It was also safe to say, that we were not exactly in the safest of places. Dogs barking, deserted streets, and not another tourist within yelling distance. All I could think was "you really did it this time Dyl."

This called for some back up. I had to turn on my cellular data to open up a map and see exactly where we were. Sorry Dad, that may show up on my bill next month. Survival instincts kicking in, I decided we should walk towards a park, that had some, what looked to be fairly large roads running by it. I got us into this mess and by golly I would get us out! Putting on stern, determined faces, we made it to the park without conflict. To our dismay that beautiful golden sun light was drying up and darkness was quickly taking over. But once we were inside the park, we came across families, and even a runner who was oblivious to the outside world with his headphones blaring. We took that as a welcoming sign that the park couldn't be too dangerous. It turned out to be rather pleasant. We were in the safe arms of Antoni Gaudi, who designed this famous park; Park Guell. With a sigh of relief, we even got a beautiful view looking over Barcelona at night. Our quest to see the city, at night, on top of a hill, was fulfilled... It just didn't play out the way we thought it would.

Making it home safely, and with our first full day in Barcelona behind us, we were exhausted. To my delight (probably to Brittany's fright), we still had another full day of walking through Barcelona, on the horizon.

One of the purposes of my trip to Barcelona was to meet up with a long time buddy of mine, Dan. Dan was studying in Madrid for the summer and we decided that we were over due for a weekend together. He had planned to come down on Friday night with a buddy, hence the large apartment I had rented out for the weekend. But I guess I am not the only one who was having traveling troubles. Dan texted me late Friday afternoon saying he would be in Barcelona around 7pm. A little later, I received another text saying that they had missed the train and would be there around 11:30pm, not big deal. But then one more text came in about an hour later, they would not be arriving until 7:30am the next day. As I have said so many times before, things rarely go as planned, but hey, it shakes things up!

7:15 Saturday morning, my alarm went off and I snuck out of the apartment to meet Dan and Chase at Pl. de Catalunya. Rather groggy, I stumbled toward the busiest place in Barcelona. However when I got there, I was in for a surprise. Besides pigeons searching for scraps of last nights food, not a soul was in the square. I sat on a bench watching the sun come up over the buildings to the East. I wondered how many people get to enjoy such a peaceful Barcelona? It was something that I had never experienced before. All I could think about, was that in just a few hours, this part of the city would be jam packed with people from around the globe, but for the time being, it was my private sanctuary.

Even through all their troubles of getting to Barcelona, Dan and Chase finally showed up with a smile on their faces. I showed them to the apartment where they dropped off their bags, and then the three of us (Brittany didn't wake up at 7:15 like myself, and was still sleeping) went to a little cafe across the street. Over Spanish omelets and coffee, we caught up over the past few months, laughed about our travels, and then discussed what we wanted to do for the day. The early morning clouds were beginning to fade as the sun grew higher, so we packed our things, got Brittany, and were ready to seize the day.

La Rambla was our first stop. The street was packed with the Saturday morning crowd. My private Barcelona early morning hour, was long gone. We meandered along the endless street vendors trying selling everything from vegetable seeds to mittens and hats (why someone was trying to sell warm clothing in Barcelona, in July is beyond me). We then stumbled into Market La Boqueria. This market has been selling fresh fruit, vegetables and meat since 1217. On this day, the market was filled with camera waving tourists who were trying to fight of the locals, who were just buying their daily portion of food, for the perfect picture. The mix of vibrant colors, the pungent smells and deafening noise was incredible. The beautiful mess was a roller coster for the senses.

It was a miracle that the four of use made it out of the market without having lost one another. It was an even bigger miracle that we had not been the target of a sticky fingered pick pocket. To give thanks, we headed down towards Barcelona Cathedral, in Barri Gotic. The previous day, Brittany and I had found the cathedral, but were unwilling to pay the six euros to enter. Luckily, when the four of us came up the to cathedral it was during the free hours! We had to go in, when traveling abroad free things are few and fare between and you have to take all you can get. The cathedral was breathtaking, it was unlike anything I had seen before. The gothic cathedral is massive, and pays homage to the patron saint of Barcelona, Saint Eulalia whose story is fascinating but rather graphic. If you have some spear time (you probably don't after this long blog) look her up.

For the next couple of hours, Brittany headed for the beach to relax, while Dan, Chase and I carried on the exploration through the city. Every which way we turned there was a new highlight. We passed Palau de la Musica Catalana, the Picasso museum (but didn't go in, it was fourteen euros), another market named Santa Caterina, a woolly mammoth museum (that caught our eye for its randomness, but upon walking into the entrance lobby it looked like Barcelona's worst museum), found the beautiful Gaudii Cascada again, and then had a delicious lunch by the old el Born market, before retiring the beach ourselves.

For those of you who know anything about European beaches, this was one of those beaches. Topless sun bathers was not only for the men, and bikini bottoms were not only for the woman, which created an atmosphere too much bare, burned skin. Sparing all unpleasantries, I will avoid a detailed description of a beach full of half nude individuals. After baking in the sun for an hour or so, we decided it was time for our siesta, so we made the long walk back to the apartment where cold air conditioning was waiting us.

We awoke from our siesta around six that evening, and all agreed to have a fiesta. A fiesta after the siesta, as we liked to call it. Dan, Chase, Brittany and myself ventured into a grocery store, split up and after half an hour of shopping we had more food then we knew what to do with. Making bets on the cost, no one was even close. Eighteen euros, split four ways, for a feast of royal proportions was just what my dwindling budget needed. Chicken, sausage, pasta, marina sauce, two loaves of bread, potatoes, and most importantly, wine. With these ingredients we would prepare for the greatest traditional (traditional in a Spanish/Italian/American sort of way) feast ever made by four American college students in Barcelona!

A few bottles of wine, and two hours later we were finally sitting down and ready to eat. As we stuffed our selves we talked about everything under the sun. With the windows open, music playing, hot food, and cheap wine, the meal was enjoyed by all. Our stomachs satisfied, and our supply wine gone, we went down to a local bar for a few drinks. With jazz playing softly in the background, a Cuban bartender serving us his famous rum, we reminisced on the perfect day. But our trip would have to come to an end, Brittany and I had a flight at 7am the next morning, while Dan and Chase were to leave the following evening. No one was ready to go home. As we ordered our last drink, there was a moments pause. Delighted to be in the company of new and old friends, satisfied from a great meal, warm from the rum and soothed by the jazz, there was only one word that could be said at a time like this. With warm smiles the four of us raised our glasses;

"Salut"

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