Days: 17-19 (21 March 2017 – 23 March 2017)

Total distance travelled: 20,618.05 kilometres (12,806.20 miles)

We felt like a pair of hobos!

I’m sure it was intended as a bit of treat and it was mighty generous, but it certainly wasn’t our normal scene.

That was how we felt as we wandered through the revolving doors and into the W Hotel, apparently one of Barcelona’s best, the only hotel on the water and for us a gift from Sarah’s boss who insisted that it was there we stayed whilst in the city.

People were being chauffeured to the door, or at least arrived by taxi. Suited and decked out in fashion wear.

We walked our way there, several kilometres along the waterfront, and strode through those doors in our by now well worn puffer coats and laden with our faded and dirtied backpacks.

Not their normal guests I’m sure!

Despite it being a relatively sunny day, the breeze had been up and the air cold, so were a slightly bedraggled pair that checked in, where they decided to offer us an upgrade on our room.

We were no wiser, but I’ve a feeling we lost some sea views in the process of this ‘upgrade’, but at this stage the afternoon was getting on and all that was on my mind was lunch, albeit a late lunch.

As such, once we dumped our things in the room without ceremony, we retraced our steps to a few eateries we’d passed on our way in, a couple of serves of Paella and little vino warming the cockles and feeling our empty stomachs!

By the time we were done (having both checked in and filled our stomachs), the grey sky better matched the temperature, especially by the harbour which we skirted as we made our way towards the city proper.

As much as it was a lovely gesture for this hotel to have been booked for us, already it was very apparent we were a long way from anywhere interesting (unless you like staring at huge, over sized luxury motor yachts?), and a walk was always going to be necessary to get anywhere… not that we mind walking, but there’s also something to be said for atmosphere!

Immediately, once the opportunity presented, we abandoned the waterfront and began to wind our way through the maze of narrow streets, eventually getting the start (or is the finish) of one of the most famous streets in the world (also rather famous for its thriving pick-pocket trade as well), La Rambla.

At this time of year, the illegal street traders (hawking fake watches, sunglasses and t-shirts from blankets laid across the pavement, the blankets apparently so it can all be snatched up quickly when they need to bolt from the authorities) were few, as were the diners taking advantage of the many cafes, bars and eateries that front this tree lined promenade.

We explored a few of it’s side branches that led to courtyards sporting a combination of shops, fountains and apartments (even the odd embassy), but it was the revisions to the tourist signs that caught our attention the most.

In cities everywhere we’d seen them, pointing the way to locations of interest, usually noting the distance or approximate time to walk there (or both).

Here however, someone had taken the effort to cover the majority, rendering them mostly useless.

I’d certainly heard of local disenchantment in places like Venice and indeed here due to over tourism, but this was the first time we’d seen this dissatisfaction manifest into something physical.

Back on La Rambla, and a little further on we caught something very much of interest and made a hard left turn.

This was the Mercat de Sant Josep (or the Mercado de la Boqueria, take your pick), and, well, you know we’re both suckers for a good market!

There was plenty of good looking stuff. Lovely cured jamon, dried nuts, fruits and preserves, sweet treats and organic beers.

Which makes it seem a bit odd that not long afterwards we could be found in a small supermarket purchasing a 1 litre box of their finest Don Garcia vino tinto (red wine) for 63 euro cents.

Hey, you can’t argue with that price (incidentally, it was actually a bit of a joke for us to be shared with our friend Marcus when he next came to stay with us)!

Our walking took us on a bit of a rough, but large block, past the buses and bustle of the Plaza Catalunya, across to take a few snaps of Barcelona’s own Arc de Triomf (not quite as famous as that one in Paris), before we wandered through the park, back to the water and ultimately back to our hotel.

Come morning, the sun was back and the day looked positively glorious!

We had some big plans for the day, so it was wonderful to wake to such a cracker of a day as we hustled our across the city.

It seems somewhat oxymoronic that we’d be making haste towards one of the slowest burning construction projects of all time (almost 140 years in the making and still not yet finished), but such is the appeal of La Sagrada Familia that it was a necessity if we wanted to try and get ahead of the queues.

Popular as it is, we shouldn’t have been surprised when we found ourselves most clearly not ahead of any queue, indeed a very small part of it (such was its length) when we did arrive some 40 or so minutes after leaving our hotel.

Even on a cool, albeit sunny edge of winter morning, this place seemed quite the place to be indeed.

From the outside, one could easily treat the exterior like a Where’s Wally (Waldo) book, such are the sheer number of small details that might intrigue an interested looker.

For the record, our favourite was a small dog looking lovingly up at their humans!

Long, tendril like buttresses snaked upwards, looking like human muscle or sinew, possibly functional, or just as likely, purely aesthetical.

Once within, the sense of connection to some sort of creature remained, with a skeleton like series of columns supporting the vast ceiling, however the injection of colour was the overwhelming first impact.

The combination of natural and artificial light makes the place pop like few others (the Iglesia El Rosario in San Salvador does spring to mind).

We also made the ascent to the heights of the rooftop, where it was a real lucky dip of views. From some windows or directions, you’d get lovely views over the city, or an up close peek at one of the exterior features adorning the cathedral.

From others, you might get a face full of scaffolding, or some other section in various states of completion.

It really is a most impressive thing (it was the parts designed by Antoni Gaudi that earned the site it’s UNESCO World Heritage status), for something that has remained unfinished for almost a hundred and fifty years…

After I salivated through the windows of a closed Tintin store that sat nearby,  we did some salivating and appetite saying of a different kind.

Back within the warren of narrow streets was a place that was certainly a favourite of ours. A delicious and cheap pasta bar where we lunched with a mid sized bottle of vino.

Think the kind of place where you can pick your pasta, select your sauce and also choose from a selection of other ingredients which all gets whipped together and served hot and fresh.

We thought we’d kick on with our Gaudi fix that afternoon, paying our way inside Casa Batlló.

Those some, bonelike lines and curves again obvious features of what is considered one of his finest masterpieces (another similar facade stands across the intersection)!

With the straightest sections being the floors upon which we stood, it was another fascinating experience. We even (if you know us, you’d understand we’re often disappointed by them) found the audio tour quite an interesting affair!

The whole core of the building was an open atrium. A tiled lightwell that allowed natural light into the structure where it reflected off its polished, tiled walls.

Coloured in blue, and with what looked like small seashells clinging at certain points, even in this duller, afternoon light, it was beautiful to look at (it just didn’t seem to photograph as well).

Working our way upwards, we eventually found ourselves upon the rooftop, a place of more wavy lines, plenty of tiled mosaic and some lovely views across the city.

The cool, edge of winter air, starting to really to really make itself noticed, we were soon bak indoors, taking in a bit more of the house before we moved along.

We’d a rendezvous planned.

A gentleman who hails originally from Salamanca (where we’d already been), who we’d met in Iran back in 2016, and now lives here in this beautiful city, Dani.

Waiting at a venue of his suggesting (he was after all the local), we sat and waited as he made his way to us after the working day.

A few beers and a few morsels of food (he was far hungrier than us after our late lunch), we had a bit of a chuckle when the MTV tunes playing on the screen threw to an old school (by old school, I mean he peaked in the 80’s) Australian artist, John Farnham!

It was certainly great to catch up, but we were certainly mindful he was still a working man, so it was never going to be a late night.

Also unsurprising, was how quiet the streets were on our walk home (okay, so not home, rather back to the hotel) for that very same reason.

We did notice, moored in the harbour near the hotel, a huge behemoth of a yacht. I snapped a couple of pictures, but they weren’t so great in the dull light.

The following morning was another stunner. Again, not too warm, a reflection on the time of year, but enough blue sky for it to feel good.

It also turns out bright sunshine makes it much easier to take a photo of a huge motor yacht. The Dilbar, in a horrible beige or off white colour, belongs to Russian oligarch and multi-billionaire Alisher Usmanov. I knew little of the boat on site, but good old Wikipedia gave us a little info.

On the opposite shore, we ran into our old friend Cristóbal Colón who obviously impacted our larger adventures through Latin America, and we also rubbed shoulders with in Sevilla.

Today, our plan was to visit another UNESCO site, the Palau de la Musica Catalania, the Palace of Music, a stunning concert hall that if I hadn’t been told otherwise, I’d have assumed it too was a Gaudi work (this one was designed by Lluís Domènech i Montaner).

We bought our tickets, however, we weren’t able to enter until a set time, so had to do some further wandering before our tour commenced.

Things got a little louder, as we passed a workers union on the march

Through the old Gothic quarter we wandered, but it did seem that whenever we hit a main thoroughfare, the protestors were present.

We’d seen signs elsewhere, but there were clear reminders of the Spanish Civil War here. Bomb scarred stone from when the combined Italian/Spanish Nationalist’s bombed the undefended city (indiscriminately) back in 1938.

Actual numbers vary, but consensus seems to be that over a thousand people died over the two days of bombardment.

All around Plaça de Sant Felip Neri, the scars were apparent, a real sobering reminder of the countries troubled past.

Back at the music hall, it was immediately an impressive place. A grandiose entrance foyer, with a grand staircase, tesselated ceiling, stained glass atop already ornate windows.

Some of the staircase columns were even iron filigree encased in amber glass!

Colourful mosaic again abounded, cladding many of the exterior and interior surfaces, however, it was within the theatre itself, that we fell in love.

Possibly the most impressive piece of stained glass, or lead light artwork, anywhere in the world!

Certainly the most amazing we’d seen.

Not only was it huge in its size, the fact that it actually descended from the ceiling space into the concert hall, and remained a beautiful, colourful feature… just wow!

Words truly don’t do it justice, but hopefully some of the images can.

It seems hard to even write about the other impressive aspects of the concert hall as well, but even without that incredible roof, it would have been impressive.

A huge organ sat atop the stage. Every internal column was a myriad of coloured mosaic. Smaller windows, also a riot of colour allowed plenty of light in. Behind the stage, the walls were covered in amazing plaster figures.

To hear music hear, would really seem like a distraction from the real piece of art!

That evening, we dined on a delicious plate of cured meats (although one that was almost like a 50/50 cured meat/fat was less to our liking) before enjoying some more of the city lighting budget for what was to be our last night spent in Spain.

Our flight the following day was not until the evening, but the weather, after several days of sunshine took a turn, and it was a rather drizzly affair.

As such, we were in little rush to check out, and when we did venture out, we really only did so to indulge in another delicious Paella lunch.

The wet day, did see the streets relatively empty, so from that perspective, it was nice to see a usually busy city, quiet.

After two weeks on the Iberian Peninsula, we felt a little regretful.

We’d had some good times, but we really didn’t feel into it, which suggests it just wasn’t the right time for us to head back to the Spanish speaking world.

With the evening still wet, 21:25 saw us boarding our flight to Doha, for our first transit on the long journey home…

 

Notes:

* Our Eurail 2 country passes allowing 6 days of travel within 2 months cost us $96.00AUD per person (a special travel agents rate).

* Entrance to La Sagrada Familia cost us €17.00 per person, inclusive of access to the towers.

* It cost us €5.50 each to enter Gaudi’s Casa Batlló.

* Our tickets for Palau de la Musica Catalania cost us €18.00 each

* (2019 update) That box of Don Garcia was left to ‘mature’ quite nicely (okay, it was largely forgotten), not being shared with our friend until 2019..!