Barcelona

We just spent a lovely long weekend in Barcelona with my family. And now, as usual, I'm suffering from post-Spain depression.

Thursday, November 22

After a full day of work, Dave and I came home, scooped up our luggage, and headed for the airport. The strikes still had most of the trains out, and I'd heard that the train to the airport was completely down. So we had no choice but to drive (or take a taxi, I suppose), and we were worried that strike traffic was going to make us late.

In the end, the traffic was pretty normal, which is not to say light, and we got there a good two hours early. So we took advantage of the extra time and had dinner in the airport. I had a glass of sangria, which sadly, turned out to be my only sangria for the weekend.

Anyway, we landed in Barcelona late, then took a series of buses, metros, and finally a taxi to the main post office, where we had agreed to meet Grant. He popped out of a gyro shop right on time and led us down a network of narrow pedestrian streets to the apartment.

Grant had stayed in the apartment a few years earlier and made all the arrangements for our stay. It was an incredible place, just next door to ancient Roman ruins, a few blocks from the Barcelona port, and in the heart of a hip shopping district. The building was between a cafe and a bar, and people were constantly peering or walking in our front door, thinking it was a bar.

The apartment itself was beautiful, with 20 foot ceilings, a loft, a funky semi-outdoor bathroom, and loads of charm. The bathroom was definitely a conversation piece. I don't know how they got permission to do this, but the bathroom was integrated into the courtyard of the building. The toilet and shower were covered, but the sink area was exposed to the elements. We could look up and see the sky, along with all the neighbors' laundry, when we washed our hands. Whoever was in the bathroom last always walked back into the apartment with the weather report.

Anyway, once we got over running around and exploring the apartment, we crashed for the night.

Friday, November 23

Dave and I woke up before the rest of my jet-lagged family and took a walk around the area to find some breakfast. We brought back pastries and juice and kicked around waiting for the others.

Finally around 11:30 they were all roused and we decided to visit the local market to find food for Thanksgiving dinner. Of course, this was a day after Thanksgiving, but that was a minor detail, we were all together.

On the way out, we stopped by my brother's favorite candy shop, (which is saying a lot, considering my brother doesn't like candy), Papabubble. Papabubble hand-makes all of their candy right out in the front part of the shop, and we watched them make a fun batch while we took photos and asked questions. I love watching people make food, and I was literally a kid in a candy shop.

After Papabubble we walked down the famous La Rambla street to the La Boqueria market. Grant and my mom went on a serious food-finding expedition, and Dave and I wandered around taking photos and using Sesame Street-level Spanish to buy some fruit and sausage.

By then it was late afternoon and I was grumpy because we hadn't seen any Gaudi yet. So we dropped off the food at the apartment and took the metro to La Pedrera, or Casa Mila, one of Gaudi's famous buildings.

The building was fascinating, but the attic and the roof were the best part. We made it to the roof just before sunset and had a great view.

After this we went back to the apartment for my mom and Grant to start the big feast. Grant invited a friend and his family, who happened to be staying in Barcelona as well, and we shared an excellent Thanksgiving dinner of ham, potatoes, green bean casserole, and a pumpkin roll my mom carried all the way from Michigan, no joke.

Adam arrived just before dessert, and despite my mom's best efforts refused anything more then a bit of pumpkin roll. We sat around, finishing the bottle of wine, and finally decided to leave my parents with the dishes (oxox) and go out to the bar.

Grant had long promised us a pirate bar, and we were fired up. "Hook" was indeed decked out with loads of pirate stuff, but also celebrity photos of Tina Turner and Bette Davis. And instead of "Blow the Man Down", they were playing disco. ABBA, if I remember right. Maybe pirate music would have been a bit over the top, but at least we said "YAR!" with every toast.

Dave barters for a mug o' grog

After Hook we hit another bar, and then I got bored and went back to the apartment while the boys continued. It must have been around 5 a.m. when Dave finally flopped into bed. And the next morning while I was scrounging around the kitchen I noticed that the drunks had cleaned out all the leftovers. I'm sure my mom was pleased.

Saturday, November 24

Everyone was up a bit earlier on Saturday, and we started the day with La Sagrada Familia. I can confidently say that La Sagrada Familia is my favorite cathedral/temple/church, whatever you want to call it. I love it because it's so unconventional. Instead of the classic style of the Notre Dame and just about every other Catholic cathedral out there, La Sagrada Familia is modern and completely unexpected. Just looking at it makes you think "Gaudi was surely a madman".

Adam cozies up with a Gaudi turtle

And they haven't even started the tallest towers. I guess we'll have to come back in 2026 to see the finished result.

Next we walked north to Parc Güell, another Gaudi creation. Here we visited his house and took in some of the more famous park landmarks, like the tiled lizard. We spent the rest of the late afternoon shopping in the trendy area close to the apartment. Here are some things that Spain does really really well and what I recommend buying if you ever get a chance to visit:

1. Olives

2. Almonds

3. Ham

4. Shoes

I don't, however, recommend buying any of those things in the Barcelona airport. Anyway, I saw about 10 pairs of shoes I wanted, a coat, and countless other great things. Again I was amazed by how affordable everything was compared to Paris. I guess a few years in France could numb me from sticker shock for the rest of my life.

I didn't buy any of the shoes or the coat, but I did walk away with some small happy reminders of Spain and a few gifts for friends.

Sunday, November 25

After breakfast and packing, we didn't have a lot of time left before our flight. But we managed to take a walk to the Barcelona part and enjoy a few last moments of sunshine. We passed the statue of Christopher Columbus and sat on the dock, watching the fish and seagulls, fantasizing about leaving France for Spain.

We returned to the apartment and said our goodbyes to my family and Adam, then grabbed a cab back to the airport.

No paella this time, and no sangria, but Spain never lets us down. A great Thanksgiving.