travelogues: Spain 2007
Ah, back in Barcelona! Back in the land of street signs and
decaffeination! We were here just 6 months ago, so it feels pretty familiar, and that's nice in a city where you don't speak either of the languages. Barcelona is like Quebec province in that it is almost an autonomous country within a country. Residents speak Catalan as well as Spanish and there’s a fierce matter of "national" pride.
One thing I learned last time I was here, but didn't think much of, was that locals have become fond of putting small stickers on their cars with a silhouette of either a bull or a donkey. The bull, of course, is the national symbol of Spain. The donkey, of the Catalans. So there are a lot of donkeys. With my recent enlightenment courtesy of Ireland's Donkey Sanctuary, I am particularly sensitive on this visit to the donkey v bull tally.
Our apartment is in the Ravel, about a half mile west of where we were last time. Last time I complained about a 4th-floor walk up; this time we're on the 6th floor. Another benefit of having been here recently is the fun of seeing construction finished; for example the retail space under "our" old apartment was a complete disaster in May, but now it's a posh store selling everything "olive".
I've really enjoyed going back to my old haunts, even though there's still so much I haven't seen in the city. I spent more time in the Parc de la Ciutadella, noting that this time the parrots in the palms (like ours in SF) are industriously making nests. In November? I discovered the "Cascade" in the northeast corner of the park, which needs a much more magnificent name because it is a monumental & glorious structure with cascades, yes, but also sweeping marble staircases, balconies, and capped by a cupola that is sadly closed for renovation.
I tried to befriend one of the feral park cats, a cute little tiger-stripe, but he took refuge amongst the ferns in a big vase sculpted into the staircase. On another visit I met one of the army of women who take care of the cats; there was a metal-thrash band playing in the park & we commiserated about how much it obviously disturbed the animals. [I didn't admit that I thought the band was pretty good; I really did feel sorry for the cats.]
I also returned to the city's cathedral, to
check on the geese kept in the cloisters (who didn't look all that great & were certainly begging more than I recall). I still haven't made it into the actual cathedral; the cloisters are a big enough treat. I was there at dusk & most of the light came from the candles burning in the many chapels. Later I joined the crowds of families visiting the Christmas creche display in the garden, which is normally off-limits. The geese seemed very put off that there was something competing with them for attention and honked madly!
Despite still not having seen many of Gaudi's buildings in the city, I made my way back out to the
Park Guell. I was dreading the walk up the hill to the park, which I remembered vividly from earlier, but stumbled upon a sequence of about 10 open-air escalators that take you to the very top of the park with very little effort. So this time, I entered through a back door, and wound my way down into the part of the park developed by Gaudi [before the developer pulled the plug], taking in some breathtaking vistas of the city along the way. At times I was completely alone, having my own little adventure, because there were so many fewer people here off-season.
I discovered a new park, Parc de Carles I, just southeast of the Parc de la Ciutadella. It's a bit run-down now but must have been magnificent after it was constructed for the '92 Olympics, right next to a huge complex of apartments originally built for the athletes. In one area, there are some very innovative playground pieces made on a large scale of huge timbers, tires, and heavy duty chain. Most are some combination of levers & swings, and invite multiple players. When I was there, about 20 teenagers who I assumed were hoodlums were having a grand time goofing around on the equipment, not -- to my amazement -- destroying it.
I also indulged in a show I missed the last time I was
here: Opera y Flamenco is a show of traditional flamenco music &
dance (geared for tourists, of course) with 8 musicians (pianist, cellist,
2 guitarists, 2 violins, 1 percussionist, & singer), plus a male & female
opera singer, and a matched set of flamenco dancers. It was fantastic.
I hadn't seen any flamenco really since my friend Erin practiced it in
high school. I'd forgotten how heart-poundingly thrilling it is.
No castanets, which I found curious.
After much hemming & hawing ["is it really worth it?"], we went ahead with our whirlwind trip to Bilbao, in Spain's northern corner, &
Frank Gehry's Guggenheim museum
[a
video of us there]. A 20-hour day; this from the couple who sometimes don't even make it through a 12-hour day on this trip! (It does get dark awfully early...)
But catching that 6:45 am flight was worth it when we got to see the Guggenheim just as the sky was getting light, with only commuting pedestrians rushing around. It's built right along the river that bisects the city, which itself is tucked in on the flanks of a valley with beautiful crags all around. The building slips under the biggest bridge in the city & pops up again on the other side. It's truly stunning.
I adored "Maman", a
30'-high bronze spider sculpture carrying marble eggs created by the
French artist Louise Borgeois to honor her mom. This is one of only a few pieces installed outside the museum. Another is "Puppy" by Jeff Koons, a 30'-tall pansy-covered, uh, puppy. He was supposed to be there just for the opening 10 years ago, but the Bilboans loved him & lobbied for him to be permanent, so the museum bought him. They had some excellent exhibits inside the museum, including, ironically, a retrospective on American art, but my favorite pieces are both part of the permanent collection (and both by Americans). Richard Serra created "The Matter of Time" which is a monumental series of 7 metal ellipses, toruses, waves & spheres again about 30'-high that you walk through, getting thoroughly disoriented. Another is a series of 40' high vertical LED banners that run messages in Spanish, Basque & English -- red on one side, blue on the other. It's very simple but stunning in implementation, and the artist, Jenny Holzer, designed it to fit a very specific space in the museum (which has, as you might imagine, some very uniquely shaped spaces.)
After our fill of the museum, we trooped across the Calatrava bridge, took the funicular up one of the valley walls, and wandered through parts of the old city that haven't quite been gentrified (like the very promising but currently
slightly creepy 1929 Mercado de la Ribera, which is supposed to be one of if not the largest indoor marketplace in Europe.)
We bought chestnuts roasted on the street in a cart that looked for all the world like a choo-choo, then settled in to a bar as dark fell to work on the NYT crossword puzzle. Dinner, then back to the airport for our 11 pm flight. Worth it? YES.
I really miss the dogs; I decided that I had become a "pet-ophile" in Barcelona because I would try to love up every dog that we passed! And Barcelona has a lot of GSDs so I really had to restrain myself. When I was there in the spring I taught myself how to say, "Excuse me, may I pet your dog?" but I left my Spanish dictionary at home this trip.
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