Hilltop Celebrity

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This morning we've booked a guided tour of Park Guell. We arrive very early, so we walk around the streets near the entrance to try to kill some time. Issy says that she has heartburn, so we need to find a chemist. She's a bit worried that she might not be able to explain to the chemist what's wrong with her. I tell her that I think I know the Spanish words for "heart" and "hot" and that the chemist should be able to work out "heartburn" from that. I get the look; she tells me that if she says that the chemist will probably think that she's having a heart attack. The chemist is a very friendly lady, and we ask her if she speaks English. She says only a little bit, but then tells us that she can tell from our accents that we're from Australia. This is a bit like me hearing a few words from someone in Spanish and then telling them that I can tell that they come from Venezuela.

Our guide tells us that Eusebi Guell originally bought the rocky outcrop that the park now stands on to develop as a housing estate. The housing development was a massive failure as he couldn't attract any buyers, and only two houses were ever built. Guell managed to convince Gaudi to buy one of the houses, Guell lived in the other one, and together they developed the park. It's now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It comprises large gardens surrounding a central formal area containing the Gaudi dragon statue for which the park is famous, a large terrace fringed by Gaudi sculpture seats, a temple-like structure under the terrace, and a formal staircase leading up to the temple. Two small distinctive Gaudi style houses flank either side of the park entrance.

I ask Issy if she's feeling alright after drinking her whiskey with not a lot of coke in a very large glass last night. She says she's feeling fine. She tells me that I'd better not have written anything about that in the blog. I tell her that I just wrote that she looked happy. She says that I had better have written that I felt happy too given that I had drunk a beer out of what could only be described as a bucket. I tell her that I had omitted that particular detail, and that this is my prerogative as the author of the blog. I think I might be in trouble later.

Next stop is Tibidabo, which is a 500 metre high hill overlooking Barcelona. Getting there proves to be a complex process. We get off the metro and queue to get on what we hear is Barcelona's famous blue tram. This looks very similar to the old green trams in Melbourne, only blue. It takes us a couple of kilometres up the hill and we then transfer to a funicular railway for the rest of the climb. On top is a restaurant, a small amusement park and the Sagrat Cor church. The church is spectacular and can be seen from all over Barcelona. We walk up to the crypt. I thought crypts were normally underground, so it feels a bit odd to be walking up to get to one, but the ever reliable Google machine tells me for a building to qualify to be a crypt, it just needs to be under the main church. We climb up to the top of the church tower. It's very hazy, but the view is still spectacular and we can see all over Barcelona to the sea.

Issy tells me over lunch that she saw a lady near the amusement park who looked just like Sarah Jessica Parker. We usually have very different opinions about whether or not people in the street look like a particular celebrity, so I didn't take a lot of notice. I told her earlier today that I thought a Spanish politician on a billboard looked like Joe Hockey, and she looked at me as if I had two heads. While we're wandering around she sees the lady again. She certainly does look a lot like Sarah Jessica Parker. We get quite close to her and we hear her speak to the young child who is with her. She not only looks like Sarah Jessica Parker, she is Sarah Jessica Parker. She looks to be here with a child who is probably her daughter, and one other person. She doesn't have an entourage and looks just like an every day mother taking her child to an amusement park. No one other than us seems to be staring at her. Maybe Spaniards are more polite than we are, or perhaps Sex and the City never quite took off here. I hope she doesn't have to go as far away as Spain for her holidays just so she can get some privacy, but I've got a nasty feeling that that might be exactly the case.

We catch the funicular back down the hill, but decide to skip the blue tram and walk the rest of the way trip back to the apartment. I need exercise. I'm suffering from tapas overload; they're irresistible. I've had something called patatas bravas three times now and could happily live on it forever.

Issy's been hanging out for a dose of raw fish since we left home. She had a Japanese restaurant in Barcelona recommended to her by a friend and it seems that it's not too far from the apartment. We therefore decide to break with tradition tonight and not eat local food. We decide to walk to the restaurant as we always seems to get lost when we come out of one of the seemingly endless number of different exits from the metro. We've noticed that it seems to be quite hazardous being a pedestrian in Barcelona. It appears to be optional for drivers to stop at red lights to let pedestrians cross the road. Also the time between the pedestrian lights flashing to tell pedestrians not to start to cross, and the traffic lights turning green to let traffic through, seems to assume that all pedestrians are Olympic sprinters. We've had a couple of close calls already.

Issy eagerly scans the menu; raw fish is noticeably absent. She looks shattered. She puts on a brave face and tells me that she thinks she'll survive. There's whiskey on the menu, so she says she'll drown her sorrows with some of that. She orders a scotch and coke. A few minutes later the waitress comes back to tell her that unfortunately they've run out of scotch. She now looks totally distraught. I'm beginning to think we should have stuck to tapas, but despite the lack of raw fish and Issy's desired brew the meal turns to be excellent.

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Comments

[Clayts]

Hey Dave, Loving these posts. Definitely giving me a few giggles. Your boys tried hard against the eagles the other day but just weren't quite good enough. You'd have been ok with it though I think. Went to Whitten Oval with Josh to watch
Casey play Footscray. Was an unseasonably warm day but with a howling breeze. Something like 150 points scored at one end (the Geelong Rd end) and 13 points at the other. We led by 2 points after 31 minutes in the last quarter against the breeze (after leading by 5 goals at the last change) and kicked it out on the full from two consecutive kick ins). They kicked 2 points form the resultant free kicks and the siren went. Typical. Anyway there's your VFL update cos I know you'd be really interested. Carry on, Clayts

[COG]

very pretty and interesting, I want to go there.