Another scam attempt, skater bar and at Jesus' feet

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There's not many places were it is socially acceptable to sleep in public, but the beach is one. This thought struck me as I passed three lads fully dressed and curled up with their luggage as pillows on Barceloneta Beach. It was late afternoon and I guess they'd had to check out before noon, but were too battered to go sight-seeing before their homeward flights. Having gotten up very early again, I could have joined them and had previously dozed off on the over heated L7 (the metro line, not the band).

We need not have bothered getting up early as like most Brits, Barcelona doesn't seem to wake up much until 11am on a Sunday. There was one guy early in the morning at Catalunya Metro, who tried to stop me to give him change for his euro. I guessed he needed it for his train ticket, but my purse was locked away and I thought better of helping him and thought nothing of it until later....

We rode the train right until the end of the L7 line to Avinguda del Tribidado, from where we got the bus part way up the Tribidado, Barcelona's highest mountain. Looking at cyclists and hikers who were traipsing upwards in the morning sun, I vaguely considered hiking to the top, but given our track record of getting lost on mountains, decided to wait for the funicular. It was 10am by this time and the funicular didn't open until 11am. So after a stop at a barely open cafe, we left the sun at the base of the funicular and rose into the cloud shrouded mountain.

At the top is an antique fairground plus a modern one that opens at noon. We've been on many insane rollercoasters in the USA, so the rides here seemed tame. However the rickety metal baskets either end of a long rotating lever of the 95 year old Talaia that lifted us even higher off the mountain attracted me, and it was only two euros each. It was a bit wobbly, windy and cold.

We were going to ride the jittery old plane, but the wind put a stop to that, so instead we queued for ages to go on a ferris wheel through the cloud.

Upon the summit of the mountain is the Temple Expiatori del Sagrat Cor that is crowned with a Jesus sculpture that was often lost in the swirling cloud that the wind was buffeting. For 2.5 euros we could get a lift up, then take the stairs to get as close to Jesus as I will ever get. Were it sunny, the view would be good - but I could just about see where I think Mediterranean was, as cloud reduced visibility.

There didn't seem much point hanging about after that. We'd seen the ultimate view from the feet of Jesus and the rest of the park was very small-child orientated. So we funiculared back down, walked through a park, then down past very fancy and expensive looking buildings to the metro.

I'd been keeping my eye out for cats as I always do when on holiday, but Barcelona so far is sadly lacking. It seems to favour very small yappy dogs or the other canine extreme that is the size of a horse. No cats, but we saw some food left out for strays.

We headed to Barceloneta as Eyewitness Travel promised "A portside warren of narrow streets and small squares in a traditional neighbourhood of fishermen and elderly folk who sit outside on chairs and gossip". This is a terrible lie. It is in fact a very touristy area with not one pensioner on a chair. The streets are narrow, with the usual washing hanging from all windows, but populated with tourists and surfers. The main street was pricey but we did find a nice place to stop for a cheap sangria and coffee.

The beach was full of people and not everyone was asleep. There were a few guys making sand sculptures that were unusual in that they utililised water features and fire. I went for a paddle in the med and it was cool - not freezing as expected.

We went to a restaurant in that area, mainly because I was bursting for the loo and there are no public toilets. After which we walked down Passieg de Colom, and up the Rambla. It was dark by now and the trees were brightly lit - I don't know if this is for Christmas or the norm. I was looking for the Nevermind bar as researched previously online. We ended up in a dodgy maze of dark sidestreets that Jack the Ripper would be at home in. When we did find the bar, it was not open yet. Sigh.

But literally around the corner, was the Place Retat which was full of expensive looking restaurants, a fountain and lots of light - the complete opposite. The alleyway to the Nevermind bar was unnoticeable from the centre of the square, and you would never find it if you didn't know. We popped back for a couple of drinks. It was very much like the Bollocks bar that we were in last night, except the music was more grungy that rock. There were sneakers hanging from the ceiling, the shelves made of old skateboards and I believe we were sitting on an old skateboard ramp. It was very dim and laid back, and because of happy hour, my beer was cheaper that Glyn's coke.

Afterwards we rambled down the Rambla, buying a few gifts and souvenirs, then headed back to our hostel before people started asking us if we like football - yes we have been informed that the event on Friday is a classic pick-pocketing strategy. And at Catalunya Metro was still the same guy from 12 hours ago, still trying to get change for his euro. Hmm, I guess the plan was for him or an accomplice to steal my purse after I get it out. Or just maybe the poor guy is still stuck after a day, trying to get home? He needs to start walking!

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Comments

[Stacey]

Pretty and scary
Wow, sounds like a lot of thieves to be on guard. Be safe! Pictures are very pretty