Barcelona, buildings, blisters and breakfast calimari

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Why should I go to Barcelona?
When I studied art at college I learned about Antoni Gaudi’s amazing designs and I have wanted to visit Barcelona ever since. It took me many years to live out that dream but it was well worth the wait. Barcelona isn't just about architecture though, there are about eight miles of beaches, some great designer shops, a vibrant nightlife and they have a pretty good football team too.

It was late afternoon when we landed at Barcelona Airport after a pleasant one and three quarter hour flight with Easyjet out of Gatwick. The sun was still shining and it was almost disappointing to get into the rather stylish transfer car with its smoked glass windows provided by the 3 star Minotel Ciutat del Prat.

What is there to see and do in Barcelona?

Once we had checked in and unpacked we went straight back out to explore, find somewhere to eat and grab as much sun as we could. El Prat de Llobregat, commonly called just El Prat, is a little city on the right bank of the Llobregat river taken up mostly by Barcelona Airport. Apart from a beach and small nature reserve famed for its blue-legged chickens (none of which we saw), it has a pleasant shopping area with a wealth of cafes, bars and restaurants plus a train station connecting to the metro and the centre of Barcelona. With so many eating-places to pick from including Chinese, Italian, and the usual hamburger joints, we were spoilt for choice but determined to try something typically Spanish. We strolled along the wide streets until we came to a little precinct that was bustling with life and, as the sun began to go down we settled at a table outside the Cerveceria Cataluña.

The menu was in Spanish and Catalan with no English translation, which is only to be expected in such a small city. Although the waiter, Hassan, spoke no English, he came originally from the Western Sahara and his French was excellent. He recommended Lomo jamõn pais which turned out to be a huge slice of bread toasted and spread with tomato and olive oil, topped with ham, cheese and baked green peppers. It was delicious and very filling. We washed it down with a glass of the local beer and settled back to soak up the atmosphere. Even well after eleven the place was buzzing with youths, families and young children wandering past, playing football in the street and generally relaxing on a Saturday night.

After a few wrong turns we managed to find the way back to our hotel where we finished the evening with a nightcap at the bar. Reubin, the barman spoke perfect English (although he swore he knew just a few words) and was very friendly and helpful. He persuaded us to try Cigaló (carajillo in Spanish), which he told us was coffee with a dash of brandy or whiskey (we chose brandy). The dash turned out to be a huge splash, more than a normal English measure, in a tiny cup of espresso. It was delicious and a great way to round off a nice evening.

As our first full day was Sunday, we weren’t sure what would be open especially as Spain is a predominantly Catholic country. We decided we’d head towards the centre of Barcelona and do a bit of sightseeing. If everything was shut we would simply head for the beach. Fuelled by a rather strange breakfast including chocolate covered donuts (delicious) and calamari (a breakfast first!) and armed with directions and a map from Danka at the hotel reception we set off for the train station.

It was another lovely hot day and it took just ten minutes to find the station. Had I been alone I might have been tempted to take a taxi as the streets were quiet and much of the walk was though a fairly industrial area. The lady in the ticket office said she spoke ‘un poquito’ (a tiny bit) of English but again this turned out to mean she was fairly fluent. She helped us buy our T10 tickets, directed us to the right platform for the train to Barcelona and even told us how many stops it was to Passeig de Gràcia which she said was the best place to start for sightseeing.

The station impressed us by being extremely clean with spotless seats and clear displays showing when the train was due. Unlike English trains, ours arrived exactly when it was supposed to and it too was squeaky clean and looked brand new. In next to no time we stepped out of the metro station into bright sunshine feeling quite disorientated and unsure exactly where we were.

We knew we were in Passeig de Gràcia in the Eixample district but a glance at our map told us that this was a very long avenue running through the centre of the city. It is a busy thoroughfare packed with people and lined by covered stalls selling books. We walked along slowly, looking around desperately, for a street sign or one of those big maps you see with an arrow saying You Are Here. Before we could find one Dave said, ‘Look at that building. Isn’t it one of the Gaudi ones?’ and sure enough we were standing right outside Casa Batlló. I was so excited by my first view of one of the most impressive of Gaudi’s buildings I almost jumped up and down with glee. The only thing that stopped me was the look I got from Dave that said ‘don’t you dare embarrass me.’

With its façade of coloured tiles, skull shaped balconies, seed pod like windows and bone like frames it is a truly original and outstanding structure. It’s hard to believe that it was built as long ago as 1877 and remodelled in the early 1900’s by Gaudi and Josep Maria Jujol. The Art Nouveau concept was so ahead of its time that it still seems modern and unusual. The local name for it is Casa dels ossos (House of Bones), which is understandable given its skeletal look. I was hoping to get the chance to look inside but, even on a Sunday morning, the queues were almost round the block. We decided to give it a miss and try again later if we had the time. It made perfect sense as we could have spent the whole morning queueing and missed the chance to see so many other things so, reluctantly, I dragged my self away.

Looking down I noticed the tiles that clothe the pavements all along Passeig de Gràcia. The tiles tessellate and make a pattern that looks like a fossil of an ammonite with flowers all around. Unsurprisingly these tiles were designed by Gaudi for Casa Batlló and adapted for these pavements in the 1970’s, another example of the mark this incredible architect made all over the city of Barcelona.

Next door to Casa Batlló is Casa Amatlier built by Puig for Antoni Amatlier the chocolate maker. With its geometric tiling, stepped roof and ornate windows and doors, anywhere else it would be remarkable but next to Casa Batlló it does lose some of its glory. This section is often called the block of discord in honour of these two modernist buildings and the third, at the end, Casa Lleó Morera which is now a Loewe store. It was designed by Lluís Domènech i Montaner and decorated by sculptor Eusebi Arnau with lions (lleó) and mulberry trees (morera). Many of the original sculptures were destroyed during the Spanish Civil War, luckily some were rescued by a porter and one of these is now in the Dali museum.

By now we were feeling in need of a coffee and a chance to sit down and plan our next move. We found a nice place to sit on the street in the sun outside Café de la Radio just off of Passeig de Gràcia on Carrer de Casp. They spoke English, the coffee was wonderful and we took advantage of the facilities and used the toilets. This is a good idea whenever you stop for food or drink as public toilets are few and far between in Barcelona. In my whole time there I saw two, one a booth afair on the street and the other in the train station at El Prat, the latter was pretty grim and I didn’t use the former.

As we only had two full days in Barcelona we had to make the best use of our time and some of the things we would have liked to see and do had to go by the wayside. At least it gives me a good excuse to return so it’s not all bad. Number one on the ‘must do’ list was Sagrada Familila. It isn’t my favourite Gaudi building but it is the symbol of Barcelona and the biggest project of his life. We pored over our map as we drank our coffee and decided that, rather than take the metro to the Sagrada Familia station, we would walk up Gran Via De Les Corts Catalanes, then turn left at Carrier de Sardenya. Although it was quite a long walk, it was too sunny to be underground and we thought we would see more of the city that way.

I am so glad we decided to walk. For a start we would never have seen the best bit of marketing in the world, a Fiat 500 embedded in the front window of a shop complete with simulated broken glass. A work of genius, I wish I’d thought of it myself. How many adverts get people to stop in the street and take photos, me included? I know I am in danger of sounding like an architectural geek but even without the Gaudi creations; there are some lovely buildings in Barcelona. One in particular struck me, a big apartment block, unremarkable, except for the huge roof and balcony gardens overflowing with greenery and even quite large trees. It must be wonderful to stand on those balconies and look out over the city.

We stopped for a while at Placa de Tetuán, a kind of roundabout with a park in the middle. In the centre of the park there is a monument to Dr Bartholomew Robert a one-time mayor of Barcelona. The word Tetuán comes from an Arabic word meaning the eyes or the origins. Looking at the map Placa de Tetuán with the network of roads surrounding it really do look like an eye, so perhaps that is where the name came from.

On Carrier de Sardenya we found that even the petrol stations in Barcelona are quirky and different. Like a building with a roof but no front, the driver has to drive off the road and into the ‘building’ to the pumps. Not long after this we crossed Avinguda Diagonal and saw our first glimpse of the spires of Sagrada Familias.

The building is impressive, despite all the scaffolding and cranes and has to be seen to be believed. Each side is different and our first view was of the face depicting the crucifiction. This was also where we got our first glimpse of the queue to get inside. Walking round into Carrer de Provença, we stared up at the mass of spires then turned into Carrer de la Marina to gawp at the astonishingly intricate nativity scene built by Gaudi himself. Turning into Carrer de Mallorca, we found most of the building ensconced in scaffolding. Then we were back where we started staring at a very big queue.

Given the size of the queues, the fact that it was well past midday and our breakfast calamari seemed a long, long time ago we decided to grab a quick burger in the MacDonalds that Dave had noticed on Carrer de Provença to sustain us for the long wait. Only in Barcelona could the inside of a fast food restaurant be a work of art, with a huge mosaic covering one whole wall.

Luckily the massive queue moved quite quickly and we soon found ourselves inside the gate, €22 lighter and starting up at the crucifiction scene. This is the side of the building I prefer, even though it wasn't Gaudi’s own work. Everyone has their own opinion on this and their own favourite bit, some, like George Orwell, hate it with a passion others love it. One thing is certain, no one can ignore it. It can be appreciated, if not loved, on many different levels. I look at it and admire the design and the artistry that went to create it, Dave looks at it with an engineering eye and wonders at the way such a building was made, others I’m sure appreciate its religious symbolism.

Once inside we marvelled at the beauty of the two large stained glass windows and then again at the massive queue for the lift to go up into the spires. We decided we would try to find some stairs. Neither of us minds walking and I for one could always do with the exercise. Although we found some stairs they were for people coming down only. The only other stairs we saw were half built, like so much else. The inside of the building is littered with building materials and much of it is impassable which is to be expected. Eventually we found another lift on the far side with a slightly shorter queue which we joined. The little lift only took between four and six people and the queue moved agonisingly slowly. There is a charge of €2.50 for the lifts but it is well worth the extra money.

As we crept towards the lift we looked at the stonework and the array of little circular windows. Intriguingly out of the dozens and dozens of little plain glass circles there was one circle filled with beautiful stained glass. I’m not sure why this should be, perhaps they will all be like that one day and they are replacing plain glass with stained glass one window at a time. I do hope so because it will be truly breathtaking if they do. Just before we got the the huge wooden door which stood about half way between the start of the queue and the lift we were saddened to see graffiti scratched into the stone of the wall. It wasn’t the last we saw and it seems such a shame that someone should want to deface such a great work of art.

We were told as we stepped into the lift that the only way down was using the stairs and that there were 230 of them. We had been warned! At the top we started our slow decent down ther spiral stair case, looking through the gaps every so often as we went and wondering if it was worth the wait and the money. When we came to the bridge we understood that it was most definitely worth it. The views over Barcelona were spectacular to say the least as were the close up views of the details at the tops of the towers. The stairs themselves were a work of art, spiraling down in an ammonite like pattern. It was a long way down but nothing we couldn’t handle and nothing we regretted for a second.

Gaudi began work on Sagrada Familia in 1883 and worked on it until his death in 1926, spending the last months of his life actually living in his workshop inside the church. After he died his body was buried in the crypt so in a way he is still a part of it. From the outset Gaudi knew the project was too ambitious to be completed in one lifetime and that he would never see it finished. I wonder if he realised that 127 years on it would still be surrounded by scaffolding with no end in sight? Some say it will be finally finished by 2026, (the 100th anniversary of Gaudi’s death) but others say it is unlikely. Who knows? It would be nice to think that I could return to Barcelona one day and see the finished article but I won’t be holding my breath.

The next thing on our list was Casa Milà' known as La Pedrera or the stone quarry because of the way it looks. This was the last building Gaudi worked on before he devoted all his time to Sagrada Familia. Built as rental flats for Pere Milà Camps it is now the property of Caxia de Catalunya. There is an exhibition of Gaudi and his works on the upper floors but sadly we had no time to see it. Some of the flats are now privately owned. How wonderful it must be to own and live in such a magnificent building.

We walked from Sagrada Familia down Carrer Provença to the corner of Passeig de Gràcia. Before long we were looking up at this astonishing building with its undulating pale stone façade contrasting with the strange dark wrought iron balconies. When it was built there was much controversy and Gaudi had many run-ins with the planning office. It really is a thing of beauty though and well worth our long walk.

Just around the corner we found a lovely little café called Farggi Tubs & Ice Cream. There were tables with umbrellas on the street and a great view of La Pedrara. We sat, grateful to be off our feet and looked at the menu. What a choice and all so mouth watering it was hard to decide. Dave said we should stick to coffee or we wouldn't enjoy the tapas we planned to have later. With a last regretful look at the menu I agreed. The waiters were wonderful, very friendly, they spoke perfect English and our coffee arrived very quickly. Next to us an Australian lady, hearing us speak asked where we came from. Like us, she only had two days in Barcelona and had taken the Tourist bus. She said it was a great way to see all the sights in a short time. I rubbed my throbbing feet and wished I’d thought of that at the beginning of the day.

By now we’d had enough of craning our necks to stare up at buildings and being Sunday shopping was out of the question as the only shops open are cafes, bars, restaurants and big shopping centres. We decided we would round off our day with a few hours relaxation at the beach so we consulted our maps again. We took the metro from Passeig De Gràcia to Estacio de Franca and decided to walk from there rather than change trains.

Not long after we started our slow stroll along Passeig de Circumval Lacio around the outside of Parc de la Ciutadlla we realised that getting away from mind bending buildings was an impossible feat in Barcelona. The first to set our cameras clicking again was a lofty glass construction with several horizontal limbs that seemed to hang in the air with no visible means of support. The walls of glass acted as a mirror for the blue sky and fluffy clouds and, as we passed, the various parts of the building were reflected in each other creating a strange mirage effect with an enormous butterfly perched bizarrely at the top. A little further down the road there was an odd crescent shaped structure that appeared to be made from twisted copper wire. At the edge of the park we came across a sculpture that made us smile, an incredibly long pair of shapely bronze legs culminating in a shapely behind. I must admit that we took a little detour to see what she looked like from the other side only to find that this particular lady was perfectly symmetrical, all backside and no front.

We continued on to Carrer de la Marina until we came to a huge fountain surrounded by jets of water so fine they looked like little white puffs of cloud hovering above the ground. I was tempted to stop right there and dip my aching feet in. Another strange sculpture overlooked the fountain, a kind of Picasso face suspended in the air. By now we could almost smell the sea and my feet were begging to be paddled in the cool salt water. I almost ran the rest of the way, past the less than attractive Hotel Arts (a building that looks like it is covered with white scaffolding - but what do I know?) ignoring the beachfront restaurants and across the little decking bridge.

As soon as we reached the sand I whipped off my shoes and padded down to the sea. I’m sure my hot feet hissed as they hit the cold water. It was bliss. The beach was clean and not too crowded and we spent a happy hour or so with the cool salt water lapping at our toes until hunger got the better of us and we thought we’d better find somewhere to eat.

We considered all the beachfront restaurants, offering so many tempting treats from oriental to traditional Spanish food. Most were crowded and, looking at the menus displayed outside, they looked quite pricey so reluctantly I put my shoes back on and we walked back towards the park. On Carrer de la Marina we found a little parade of shops and restaurants quite out of the way and almost hidden from the road. This looked more like our kind of place, not too showy, more like somewhere the locals would eat. There were tables with parasols outside El Rey de Tapas Bar Restaurant so we decided to take a seat and try our luck.

The waitress was great and not at all phased by our appalling Spanish and the tapas menu was mouth watering. The only problem we had was choosing. Eventually we narrowed it down to Bombas Picantes (big spicy breadcrumb covered meat and potato balls), Tapa Sal Chichon (Catalan Salami), Pinchos de Morruno (shish kebabs), Tapa Champinonos (amazing garlicy mushrooms that melt in the mouth), and Tapa Tortillia Patatas (potato omelettes) plus some garlic and sun dried tomato bread. I would have liked some calamari but Dave isn’t keen so it seemed greedy to have something we couldn’t share (I will have to take my son Declan with me next time as he adores sea food so we will be able to fill our boots with octopus, squid and fish). To wash it all down we had very welcome jug of Sangria.

It was wonderful sitting on the street in the sun, relaxing and watching the world pass by. Not long after our last dish arrived I felt a few spots of rain but, as the sun was still shining, I wasn’t too concerned. After a long day in the hot sun a little shower seemed quite a welcome thing. When the shower turned to drizzle and then to a downpour the waitress came out to ask if we wanted to move inside. She shrugged her shoulders in bemusement when we said no, after all we were under a huge umbrella and, as we explained, we are English so we're used to the rain. I guess it’s no surprise the world thinks the English are mad sitting under a parasol in the pouring rain eating tapas!

After our meal and a lovely cappuccino topped with lashings of cream the rain showed no sign of stopping. Reluctantly we left the shelter of our parasol and squelched off towards Parc de la Ciutadlla on our way back to Estacio de Franca. Wearing just our t-shirts and short trousers we stood out from the locals who had all miraculously produced umbrellas and raincoats from somewhere. Luckily it was still warm so although we were soaked to the skin we weren’t at all cold.

We made it to the park and decided to walk through it to get a little bit of shelter from the trees. This turned out to be a great idea as we stumbled upon a metro station, Ciutadella Vila Olimpica so we dashed inside dripping and got out our metro map. We saw that we could get a train to Passeig De Gràcia but would have to get out there and change to the train station to get back to El Prat. Still the rain would have stopped by then wouldn’t it?

The dark clouds had made it like dusk when we left the park, even though it was only late afternoon. By the time we stumbled back out onto Passeig De Gràcia it was as dark as night and the rain was torrential. Dodging the crowds and the opportunist North Africans trying to sell us umbrellas for €5 we managed to make it to the station dripping wet but still warm and laughing. At El Prat station we peered out at the dark and tried to will the rain to stop. If anything it seemed to be getting worse, not only was it still pouring down but now dramatic lightning and thunder had joined the rain. The umbrellas I’d refused on Passeig De Gràcia and the little fold up one I’d taken out of my handbag to make room for my make up bag back in the UK haunted me. It’s a good ten-minute walk from El Prat station to Minotel Ciutat del Prat and it looked like it was going to be a very wet one.

Despite the fact my shoes were full of water and I could feel rain running down my back inside my clothes the walk through the dark, deserted streets back to the hotel was exhilarating. The storm was so spectacular we kept stopping to look between the buildings at the lightning forking across the sky like a huge free fireworks display. We were almost disappointed to find ourselves back outside the hotel.

By Monday morning the rain was gone and we looked out onto a clear blue sky once more. The Camp Nou stadium was our first objective of the day. Dave and I both love football and regularly go to watch our local team, Southampton, play so we thought we’d take the opportunity to have a look at the largest stadium in Europe and see how it compared to our own humble St Mary’s. We took the train to Sants Estacio and then hopped on the metro to Les Corts, which, according to our map was the closest to Camp Nou.

We didn’t need the map for long because, after walking a short distance, the stadium was easily visible and we just walked towards it. It really was an impressive sight. With a capacity of 98,787 it is the eleventh largest stadium in the world and dwarfs even the impressive Cardiff Millennium Stadium and the new Wembley Stadium (which, being a Southampton supporter I have yet to see). Apparently there are plans afoot to increase the seating by another 13,000 to make it the largest in the world. I can’t imagine how they fill it but it must be a stirring sight, not to mention deafening.

Although it was free to go inside and have a look around away from the pitch, tours of the stadium cost €17 (a great deal more than the £6 we had paid to tour St Mary’s a few years ago). I was content to stop for a drink in the café and let Dave take the tour, after all €34 is a bit steep and it’s not as if I haven’t seen a football stadium before. The pictures he took were enough for me. Although he found the sheer size staggering (especially when viewed from the press box right at the top) and liked the interactive glasses that gave a presentation about the stadium, the tour itself was unguided, a kind of follow the arrows affair, so not as informative as our St Mary’s tour with no chance to see the cells or the hospitality suites. Having said that, the facilities are second to none, with a museum, trophy room and chapel. Personally I found the prices in the café a bit high and the staff quite off hand and unfriendly. I suppose with a club as big as Barcelona the personal touch is a bit much to expect though.

Next on our list was a visit to the old town. Everything I’d read warned to be on guard against pickpockets here so it was with some trepidation that we took the metro to Parallel and stepped out onto the corner of Carrer Nou de la Rambla. This is a narrow road filled with traffic and run down looking little shops and restaurants leading to La Rambla. The closer we got to La Rambla the more interesting the buildings became culminating in Palau Guell, a town mansion designed by Gaudi with huge wrought iron gates that carriages used to enter. It is possible to go inside but, yet again, time was against us. I guess it is one more reason for us to return to Barcelona in the future though so it’s not all bad news.

La Rambla is without doubt one of the most famous streets in the world for wandering along and people watching, two of my favourite pastimes. We emerged into a pleasant street with a teaming central pedestrian reservation filled with café tables, flower stalls and the famous living statues. We settled down at a table belonging to Pizzeria Ideal Restaurant, ordered a pizza and coffee and sat back to appreciate the parade of people, street art and general hustle and bustle.

Suitably refreshed we set off to look at the shops, stopping off at a little food market to admire the colourful wares. We wandered up and down and then headed off towards the maze of little streets that make up the Barri Gothic and Born. Before long we were hopelessly lost and not really sure which district we were in but it was fun nonetheless poking round the little shops, looking at the buildings and the people. When the shops began to close for the siesta which lasts from 2 until about 5 we began to work our way back to La Rambla and, more by luck than by judgement, we eventually found ourselves back where we had begun, outside the Parallel metro a few Euros lighter and laden with a couple of extra bags.

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Comments

[Eric]

I enjoyed your Spain post. I have always wanted to go to Africa. My blog is looking for travel photos. If you have the time check us out at www.dirty-hippies.blogspot.com Continued fun on your travels, Eric