Beautiful Barcelona

DAY ONE – THURSDAY, February 11, 2010



It amazes me how many details to attend to whenever I leave the comfort of my day-to-day life for an adventure elsewhere, whether it is for a weekend or a week long trip. Bills to pay, people to notify, pets to care for, emergencies to anticipate and have remedies ready… not counting the minutiae of the travel itinerary itself.

We make it on time to JFK, which by itself is quite a feat, only to be told upon our arrival that even though our ticket is bought through Delta, and paid to Delta, the flight confirmations given by Delta, the flight itself is administered by Air France and that as such, we have to go to a different terminal, on the other side. Can air travel get any more complicated? And, so much for the perfect timing… Upon seeing my expression of utter disbelief, since we are carrying the laptop, the guitar, a suitcase of Levi’s jeans and Abercrombie clothes for our European friends, travel books, our own attires and the like, she manages to get us a Delta shuttle van that will pick us up and drop us at the right gate.

Relieved, we drop off our luggage, pass through security, and get to the gate, where 500 people are waiting “in line” to board the Airbus A380-800, which is the world's first twin-deck, twin-aisle ten-row seat airliner. It is the largest passenger airliner in the world and looks like a two-story hotel with wings. We finally depart 1.5 hour late, a bit anxious as we had only one hour between our first flight to our connecting flight… but so be it. Que sera, sera. The gargantuan metal bird takes flight, smoothly and I am in awe, again, as to how much weight can take flight and climb seamlessnessly to 40,000', navigate at temps -70 F, while we are pretending to be in a living room, watching one movie after another.

The very cheery stewardess offers us a meal consisting of a Middle Eastern-style seven-grain salad with sautéed chicken that is actually true to its word and absolutely delightful, a choice of a main course of sautéed beef with chasseur sauce accompanied by mixed vegetables and mashed potatoes or cheese ravioli with aurora sauce and shrimp. Naomi picked the former, I choose the latter, and we do not regret it. Following Emental cheese with baguette bread, the desert is a coffee-chocolate chip cake accompanied with an entremets pudding...

Since I do not want coffee or tea, for I had the delusional wish to actually sleep, I ask if they have any herbal tea. “Bien sure, je vous apporte une tisane. Est-ce que tilleul ca vous va?” This “airline” meal is served with a complimentary glass of red (or white) wine that is paired perfectly with the meal. I am very happy flying Air France right now. The menu of movies, TV shows, games, radio stations, and the like is so extended that I actually forego my idea to sleep after a brief but nevertheless honest attempt, and brainlessly entertain myself silly all night long watching three movies in a row, intercepted with some very depressing world news. Cloudy with a Change of Meatballs wins as my favorite, shamelessly competing with Ice Age III and Hangover, which definitively comes in last.



DAY TWO – FRIDAY


The aircraft is outfitted with a web cam on its tail, nose and underbelly. It is very cool and I really love flying with Air France right now. Rich and I watch a glorious and luminous sunrise over Europe, and then as the plane does its slow decent, watch the landscape beneath us. Turns out France has more snow than our home in the Hudson Valley.

We land at Charles de Gaulle (GDG) airport, run to our connecting flight, which thankfully is also late as we would have missed it. GDG is huge! And after passing customs, security, and walking what seems like about 1.5 miles of hallways, we manage to get to the gate where everyone is still waiting to board. We are all sweaty but swept with relief.

We are all able to take a short snooze and finally land. After picking up our luggage, Pauline, who has arrived from Paris just a couple of hours earlier, greets us. We jump in a taxi and head to beautiful Barcelona.

Barcelona! As a rather hot item on my pretty extensive bucket list, which I have decided to seriously tackle, I am extremely excited to be here. We find the apartment, on an ancient pedestrian-only alley in the Ciutat Viella quartier. Our very welcoming and warm host, Marc, German born and also raised by a French mother, speaks impeccable English and Spanish, like a true European, and shows us our rooms and the common areas. The girls get the big room with the large windows; we get the smaller room with the private bathroom. Everyone is happy. We are also introduced to Christian, an Italian student renting a room here, who also speaks several languages.

Soon thereafter, we decide to go for a walk. The most touristic street, La Rambla, reminds me of Old Montreal, with its restaurants, bars, street artists and performers. We quickly move away from this strip and venture in the Barrio Gotico quarter, making one turn after another in medieval lanes, going into shops, and stumble upon the First Church of Gaudi which holds the crypt of the much celebrated martyr of Barcelona, Saint Eulàlia. We also come across the Museu d'Història de la Ciutat de Barcelona, and visit the true foundations of ancient Barcelona, set by Romans over 2,000 years ago. I feel quite humbled by witnessing such long history.

Utterly lost by now, we somewhat begin to venture back towards a restaurant that is supposed to cater true authentic Catalan food. By some sort of miraculous feat of bad Spanish-speaking, instruction-asking including variations on the question ¿Dónde estamos en este mapa?, and some group map-reading, we make it to Bodega Vasconia, a truly small gem where the owner, who speaks no English, explains every item available to us from his display case. Between the four of us, we pick 14 dishes, and get to sample a red and a white Spanish wine. The red, from the Rioja region, wins the taste test and supplements well our tapa dishes of calmar, stuffed and stir fried sliced octopus, hot sausages, potato-garlic, mushrooms, meatball, blood-versed rice, hot saussages, and other appetizers difficult to describe.

We find our home, stumble in bed, satisfied, and descent into dreamland.

DAY THREE – SATURDAY

Very slowly we emerge from a 12-hour night that feels like just a few hours. We decide to let the girls sleep some more and get some breakfast makings, some café con leche and fresh bread from the open air Boqueria Mercat, just a few blocks away. Once there, our jaws drop, as hundreds of small shops sell their fresh fares of fruits and vegetables, meats, cheeses, nuts, olives, breads, pastries… just name it, they have it all, fresh. Absolutely dumb struck, we decide it is best to stick to our plans to get just a few items and come back once we have more time to stroll, unhurried.

Once back at home, we rouse Naomi and Pauline up. After breakfast, we decide to play tourists and take one of the town’s bus tours. We get to see landmarks we want to go back to and watch other go by that we are glad we do not have to do a special trip to see. Along the way, we can hop on and off and we decide to stop at the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, and beeline to the modern art wing. Modern art, in this museum, is the last 300 years. All things are relative, I am reminded, and one’s view of history is not different. We then visit the utterly colorful Miró Museum, one of my favorite modern visual artists, and as I walk from one exhibit room to the other, witnessing the span of his lifetime’s work, I smile ear to ear. His art conveys such wonderful spontaneity, youthful, and joyful emotion.

Debarking from the tour bus, we stumble upon a sculpture, Barcelona Head, by Roy Lichtenstein.

We have built quite an appetite by now (again!) and decide to eat right around the corner of our flat, as Marc calls it, curious as to why there was a line out the door earlier for lunch at La Fonda. Our delicious meal begins with a spinach-stuffed canenoli and a platter of roasted vegetables appetizers, followed by authentic paella. Sadly, after this meal, I will never be able to fully appreciate paella wanna-be…

Uninterested in our plans to go to a Spanish guitar recital to finish the evening, the girls decide to head back home. We finish our meal and go out only to discover that the misty drizzle of the afternoon has turned into pouring rain. And the girls have the umbrellas that were in our bags, of course…

I mistaken Carrer Dels Escudellers for Passatge Dels Escudellers, (doesn’t help that these medieval streets are all narrow and look the same! Rich thinks we need a compass...) and we head east instead of north and get mildly lost. I eventually find my bearings and we find the romantic Iglesia Santa Maria del Pi, and sit, dripping wet, with just a few seconds to spare before the guitarist Xavier Coll comes in.

He begins by playing a Vihuela from the 17th century. He then moves on to the Guitarra Barroca, from the XVII-XVIII era. His third instrument is the Guitarra Romantica, built around XIX. He concludes his program playing una Guitarra Moderna. The pieces, all by Spanish composers, are impeccable. He surprises us in his last encore piece by also singing, with a smooth tenor voice while playing the guitar.

We walk back home just a few minutes away, climb the five flights of stairs, completely satisfied by our day. I take my soaked clothes off and jump into a hot bubbly bath. Barcelona!



DAY FOUR – SUNDAY

Getting everyone out of bed early is quite a challenge, but we manage to have a great breakfast and head out to walk in the El Borne quarter, stop by the "closed while renovations" Iglesia Santa Maria Del Mar, with our destination the Picasso Museu. Aside from a wonderful retrospective of his life’s work, there is a special exhibit on his lifelong interest in Japanese erotic art, which I knew nothing about. Later in his life, he incorporated this influence in very erotic, cubanistic-inspired, rarely seen or even published, work.

As this town dictates us to eat every two hours as a result of its depth and breadth of gastronomical choices, we go to Neyras for lunch, where we order two delightful dishes: grilled calamari and mussels in white wine sauce.

To stick with the spirit of Picasso’s exhibit, and since it is Valentine’s day, we decide to visit the Museu de l'Erotica and corrupt the 16 and 17 year old young women that accompany us. (Actually, it was their idea…) Albeit small, this exhibit displays various culture’s view of eroticism during different ages.

As we stroll down La Rambla, we hop in and out of shops and witness not one, but two processions of carnavals that we have yet to identify. We change our minds to go see Flamenco and decide instead to go eat at a restaurant recommended by our host. Even though it is past most American’s dinner time, it is quite early for Barcelonians and the restaurant, Los Caracoles, whose 60+ tables are all reserved for a busy night, is currently empty. In operation since 1835, it has five small different rooms on three floors, which creates an ambiance difficult to duplicate.

Making a meal out of appetizers, we order stuffed canenoli and snails which they prepare on coal fired - really hot - stoves. Fresh snails… juicy and tender snails that make me wonder how in the world I have been dupped in eating the canned variety as the real thing…

Another great day in beautiful Barcelona...


DAY FIVE - MONDAY


We rouse at a time that finally seems reasonable given our jet lag and head out for an all-Gaudí day. After a couple of metro stops, we come out and see the Casa Bastllo. Gaudí did not build the structure, but renovated it to its current state. Round forms and light defines this beautiful six-story building.

We then walk a few blocks north and visit La Pedrera. Albeit more subdued and traditional than the Casa Bastllo, his imagination was let completely loose on the rooftop terrace, adorned by giant sculptures doubling as air vents. Again, sensual curves and natural lighting predominate his creation.

It has already been four hours since our breakfast, which is a record since we got here, and we head to La Gramola restaurant, found on a website called Spotted by Locals - Barcelona. For 9 Euros, we eat an appetizer big enough to be a meal by itself, a main course, desert and ¼ liter of wine: a pretty good deal.

Our next stop is the Sagrada Familia, but unfortunately, the towers are closed due to the weather. We decide to do a rain check and come back some other day. We walk down to the Museu of Musica, where hundreds of instruments from all over the world are beautifully displayed.

The girls want to go to El Cortes Ingles to do some shopping and we part our separate ways in this gigantic center. Once done, a short metro ride brings us back home, where we are welcomed by Marc’s fabulous assortment of cheeses, meats, breads from the market, and sauteed sweet peppers with sea salt which he prepared for us.

We share life stories and also learn about Spain’s current economic woes, which dwarf our American credit, housing bubble bust, and unemployment issues. Later in the evening, Naomi is dumbfounded by my very energetic response of her suggestion to go out again at what is normally by bedtime hour. By Marc’s recommendation, we go to a small bar in the Placa Reial, just a block away.

Pauline asks for a Martini and upon repeating our order, given the cute waiter’s delivery of the “r” in Martini, we figure he must be fluent in French as well. When he comes back with our drinks, we tell him our assumption and he replies with his perfect French, that yes, his girlfriend is from Paris and he speaks that language all the time now. He grew up in Italy, learned English there, then moved to Spain where he learned Spanish and Catalan. Rich notices his long nails on one hand and adds that he also “speaks” guitar… at this point, the poor cute waiter blushes and asks what else did we deduct from our brief encounter… Rich adds that he is also left handed…

We ditch the idea of going dancing for another night and head home, collapse in a bubble bath and then bed.


DAY SIX - TUESDAY

Sunny Barcelona is not quite living up to its reputation since our arrival as it has been quite grey with occasional rain and today is no exception. We rouse later than we wanted, but head out and decide to do a museum-centric day because of the rain. We first start with the Museu Maritim, just a few blocks away. The main exhibit is a very old row boat with over hundred seats on each side. I can only imagine what the effort it took to move this over the ocean, by hand.

We cross the street and venture on the Rambla De Mar, in Port Viel, and go to the aquarium. We watch penguins (in Barcelona!) and sharks and other mean and amazing beasts of the wild deep... By the time we get out, we have already built a new appetite with all this sightseeing and walk towards la Barcelonetta, another old quarter right next to the Mediterranean. We walk by a surfer in a dry suit heading back to his apartment and enter a small corner street restaurant, the Segons Mercat, and order an assortment of tapas. We eat a delectable feast of hard goat cheese and olive oil, a salad of tomatoes, tuna and pine nuts, roasted potatoes with garlic and melted cheese, roasted peppers with aubergines and melted soft goat cheese, roasted asparagus with sea salt topped with roasted soft goat cheese, accompanied with bread with olive oil and fresh tomato juice spread… We have been eating very well since our arrival, but this meal is the best thus far.

Rich feels brave enough to venture out on his own and visit a Luther in another part of town and the girls and I head out to the Museu de Xocolata, adjacent to a chocolate culinary school. After the exhibit, which covers the history of cocoa and its manufacturing methodologies across time and the continents, we watch the chefs-to-be learn the art of chocolate sculpture-making and then drink a hot chocolate, creating a true surprise to our taste buds’ expectation.

Stomachs full, we end up on the sidewalk, look left, then right, and decide to cross the street and go into a small bamboo furniture shop, Naomi and Pauline thus launching another shopping spree over several blocks, as we slowly wander our way towards the Arc the Triomf, just as the sun is setting. Once back at the apartment, we all reunite and take a moment to relax and then decide to go watch some Flamenco at a nearby bar, Tarantos, along the Placa Reial, just a couple of blocks away. A half hour long, this performance has a trio playing Spanish guitar, singing, hand clapping, and percussion, while a couple is dancing, intensely.

Thereafter, we head towards La Crema Canela, around the corner of our show, which Marc highly recommended. It feels like our meals are getting better and better… as much as the lunch seemed truly amazing, the dinner is even more stunning… roasted salmon, chicken brochettes with rose-flavored basmati rice with raisins, Mediterranean salads, roasted calmar, and heavenly desserts.

My bad Spanish is getting better as I am always surprised to be understood and moreover, really stunned when answered at Mac IV speed, where I have to make a decision to pretend I actually understand their reply or give them a dumbstruck look, in the hope they will either s-l-o-w down or realize I actually have no clue what they are talking about…



DAY SEVEN, WEDNESDAY


We decide to forego our Montserrat day trip and just have a slow day in town. The girls want to sleep in and we decide to go to the market the instant we get up. Once there, still mildly sleepy and ready for breakfast, the rainbow of colors is magic to the eyes. We find a small shop where we are served excellent cappuccinos and a what looks like a vegetable omelet. We then stroll and explore each alleys of the market where the displays are beautiful and plentiful. It is a foodie’s peep show. We get cured olives, sundried tomatoes, fresh fruits, and dates and plan to go back for more.

The girls get up and are greeted by warm chocolate croissants and astonishingly red, fresh, juicy and gigantic strawberries. Marc comments that he would like to travel with me, as he likes how I set the table for the girls in the morning. I reply that it would be fine, but I that would forego the few minutes of cuddling in bed...

The sun comes out, a sight unseen until now, and we are set to finally visit La Sagrada Familia, a true spiritual and architectural still-to-be finished Gaudí masterpiece. At the top of the 300' tower, we can view the Mediterranean Sea and the city of Barcelona, below.

We then head to Park Guell, another Gaudí jewel. The visit ends with a tour of Gaudí's home, Casa Museu, a very modest and somewhat uninspiring stucture, given everything we have seen thus far created by him.

In the ride back by taxi, I ask the driver if he knows of a good restaurant, and after explaining in details the differences between Catalan cuisine and traditional Spanish cooking, he drops us off at Irati, a nice Basque tapas bar, where we watch local workers come to take one or two appetizers with their glass of wine before heading back home. Stomachs full of roasted asparagus, salmon, onion with goat cheese and amazing bread, we go take some night photos of the Pedrera and Casa Batllo (shown above). We then go to another guitar recital. In the same small chapel as the concert we previously heard, Manuel Gonzalez charms us with true virtuoso, playing one Spanish piece after the other, flawless. Rich buys the CD.

Once home, we share some good wine and fun conversations with Christian and crash...


DAY EIGHT - THURSDAY

Rich and I get up early and set out to stroll the streets with sunglasses on our noses as it is nice out, for a change. We go have a wonderful breakfast on the sunny terrace at Ra, where we can only imagine the beauty of the terrace once all the vines are green with leaves comes spring.
Every cafe and restaurant where we had coffee up until now give us a customized sugar packet which Rich has collected all week, and Ra is not different. These cute little packages of all colors and shapes, whether they are long, square, flat or chubby, with the logo of the restaurant, give a distinct signature and personality to each location.
Once our really great coffees are done, we take loads of photos at the market, walk around and head back home.

We rouse the girls and while they get ready, we go visit Casa Guell, another of Gaudí's work, just a few minutes away. Once the girls are good to go, we take the train to Sitges. We spend the afternoon walking in this small coastal town, see and feel the Mediterranean Sea, which I am told takes 300 years for the water to fully circulate and change.

We have a nice lunch next to the beach, where I eat the biggest and sweetest mussells I have ever seen, and then walk some more before we take the train back to Barcelona.

Once back at the flat, we are invited by our host, Marc, to join him at an authentic Basque bar to sample Spanish wine and tapas, that are absolutely beautiful to the eye and even better to the palate. We then go pick up the girls and head out for some salad, vegetable lasagna, and decadent chocolate desserts... dreams are plentiful that night.


DAY NINE - FRIDAY

While Rich returns to visit the Luthier, I head out and show the market to Naomi and Pauline. We then head out to have some tapas in a basque resto and do a little shopping. The girls then go to a flea market while I go meet Rich at the Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona. The architecture of the museum is more interesting than the exhibits it hosts, despite its un-Gaudí blandness, minimalism and unimaginative lines, except for one very temporary exhibit: Black IN White. This special exhibit features Richie (dressed in black) attempting to chimney his body up some walls (in white) of the museum. I take a picture. He stops before getting caught by security. Laughing, we leave and walk the Medieval streets of El Raval and then El Borne, trying to take it all in as this is our last day...

We finish our afternoon at the market where we buy olives, cheeses, breads, wines, seafood, salad, and other goodies. We go to the award-winning La Pasteleria Escriba for some exquisite desserts to bring back home and share with everyone.

Many delicious bites and perhaps a bit too much wine later, we end our last evening with Marc and Christian and go for what amounts to a short nap before getting up for our flights...


DAY TEN - SATURDAY


Today we head back home... ending a very fulfilling and truly inspiring cultural, architectural, historical, and culinary week in beautiful Barcelona...

© 2010-2012 Myriam