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on February 3rd, 2010•
We are home. Back to reality. We left Barcelona in early January heading by train for Marseilles via Montpellier. From Marseilles we travelled through the French countryside to Paris, across to London and up to Ipswich. The snow was everywhere, especially in England where the temperature was -20C in places. We had prepaid accommodation booked in Dublin but flights were cancelled. It seems to arrange for a refund on the tickets that we can’t use from the cancelled flights we must pay almost the same amount. We didn’t want to pay for more accommodation in a frozen London so we headed for home via Los Angeles earlier than planned, staying at Santa Monica beach. This thawed us out and prepared us for a return to a New Zealand summer. And then there was the little adventure of a lost passport …
Blog, Travel•
on December 31st, 2009•
30th December. Almost the end of 2009. Looks like we are changing plans … again. We had decided to head for Basque territory – a town called San Sebastian at the western base of the Pyrenees – just for a day trip, but in light of the latest news we are having more than second thoughts http://www.stuff.co.nz/world/europe/3199365/Spain-raises-terror-alert
Yesterday we went up Montjuic to the castle – a fortification to protect the city of Barcelona in the event of an attack from the sea. Nowadays one gets there via funicular and then cable car. It is a stone structure built like a stockade, now-waterless moat (saves using taxpayers funds to clean the thing), draw-bridge and all. It is certainly built for battle with its canons, ramparts, outer walls and inner walls, and windows sloped ready to pour boiling oil down on those who would climb the walls. It looks the part yet there is something about it that makes me wonder how old it is really … and whether it’s just a good tourist attraction. It lacks something … character? Heart? It’s easy to see the outer walls are recently built. I almost get the feeling that the rest of it is not so old either, yet the brickwork seems authentic….
Evening – and a visit to Barcelona’s oldest pub, Casa Almirall, which is reputed to be a hotbed of radical left-wing politics. Unfortunately we couldn’t understand a word spoken … which just left some of us having a beer. As a pub it had a great atmosphere and old-time decor. We then headed into the El Ravell area lookinjg for some live music. We were probably too early at 10.30 pm since nothing much gets going before midnight so headed home to our apartment in Esquerra de l’Eixample.
Today the flea market. We came out empty-handed, not even a flea. Everything imaginable for sale, origins and quality all dubious. There were a few interesting items, particularly old toys. We puddle about today, some shopping, tram rides, a planning day.
Blog, Travel•
on December 29th, 2009•
28th December. The Ramblas is Barcelona’s most famous street that used to link the harbour to the old town. It is lined with cafes, shops and restaurants and also the famous Boqueria food market and the Liceu Opera House. The main part of the street through the middle is for pedestrians, largely tourists, and the traffic gets a narrow strip down each side of it. The middle section also has artists displaying their works for sale or drawing a person’s portrait while they wait, newspaper kiosks selling postcards, key rings and fridge magnets, and stalls selling jewellery, leather goods, hats, scarves, and other items. The jewellery is unique and usually made by the stall-holder. There are rabbits, goldfish and canaries for sale. Every few metres, human statues come alive when you walk near or put money in the bucket. Some of them are very clever, using facial epressions to tell a story.
We went into the Boqueria food market – a crush of people all looking, some buying . Every food one could imagine is for sale. Large hams hang barely above my head, cheeses by the hundreds, and many types of fruits and vegetables that I have never seen before.
Blog, Travel•
on December 28th, 2009•
December 27th. Today Madrid. The distance between Barcelona and Madrid is … kms, further than the distance between Auckland and Wellington, but we went there for the day, and back again, on a high speed train. The journey to Madrid is over a lot of stony, arid ground, some covered in low scrub. Other parts of the journey were over cultivated land, vineyards, or land covered in trees. And it occurred to me … I hadn’t seen a single animal in a field. Not one. Not on any of our trips to Valencia or El Vendrell nor in all the travel we did through France. France is colder, but the temperatures in Spain are not so different than New Zealand. Are all their animals kept indoors?
Barcelona beats Madrid hands down as a destination. Our opinion may have been influenced by a small number of things, Madrid’s inadequate and unkempt toilets facilities, and a fleet of old hop-on hop-off buses called Madrid Vision, where the sound system doesn’t work (so we couldn’t find out just what we were looking at). We flagged the whole exercise away. Bored and freezing cold, we were rescued by spotting a green leaf in a window. We retired to the James Joyce Irish pub for the next couple of hours. The decor and atmosphere is welcoming and suitably Irish, the staff incredibly helpful and friendly with information on a variety matters www.jamesjoycemadrid.com
Blog, Travel•
on December 27th, 2009•
27th December, 4.30 a.m. Over the last few days, apart from Christmas shopping and Christmas Day here in Barcelona, we have had a couple of excursions out of town. On the Tuesday we took a day trip on the train to Valencia. Three hours on the train heading down the coastline of Spain and we were there. As is our habit, we took the hop-on hop-off bus to see the sights of the city. For part of the trip we missed the historic buildings, we were too busy watching to make sure the mad bus driver hadn’t run down the people of pedestrian crossings etc. A couple of close calls with other vehicles as well.
Yesterday we took a couple more train trips. The first was to Tibidabo where we took the cable car to the top to see Barcelona spread below us. A magnificent view. The finicular goes higher but wasn’t working today, but we wonder how the view could possibly be improved by going higher anyway. We thought then we would go to Tarragona to enjoy an afternoon at the beach but the train apparently was to stop just before that at St Vicenc de Calders so we thought we would head for there. But the train kept going and going, and we wondered just how far it would go so we got off at a town called El Vendrell. It felt like something of an adventure just taking a spur of the moment punt and getting off the train in an unknown town. We discovered El Vendrell is considered something of a tourist town but we can’t quite work out why, exactly. It turned out we were only another 5 minutes train ride from our intended destination.
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on December 26th, 2009•
25th December. Merry Christmas. As in many parts of the world Christmas here is a family time. For Christmas dinner (1.30 pm) we found a restaurant that was quite some distance away that was open for Christmas, and booked. Turned out to be an Italian restaurant, just their regular menu on offer, and we had a hard job picking anything we fancied. Later we went for a walk and enjoyed watching the people of Barcelona enjoy the holiday mood in the streets. Then this evening we found a tiny tapas bar a few steps from the apartment – and found it opens out at the back and had a special Christmas menu on offer as well as the regular menu – anything from traditional Barcelona fare to roast lamb. But of course having had our main meal at 1.30 this afternoon a very small nibble this evening, plus a glass of wine/beer was all we wanted.
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on December 22nd, 2009•
December 21st. Let me tell you about our Barcelona apartment, our home away from home. To get to the apartment one must travel up in a one-person-at-a-time lift to the 6th floor. It is also a one-suitcase-at-a-time lift. You open the outer door, open the inner doors, then shut the outer door, then shut the inner doors. Nothing is automatic. When I step in, I step to the back, especially if I am stepping in at the 6th floor. The floor is soft and it feels like it is giving way underneath me at the spot in the front where everyone steps in. It feels like you take your life in your hands every time you go in the thing. The locals use the stairs a lot in this building.
There seems to be four apartments on each level but we can’t be sure as, for example, we share an outer door with another apartment, then we have an inner door to lock as well. There is also a gate that is locked at night for the whole block of apartments, so we feel very secure. There is even a grill on the bathroom window in case someone tries sliding across a piece of 6 x 2 and clambering across from a neighbouring building. Other windows have a wooden window which we can open, then a glass window behind that which we can open. The side where the washing is hung is six floors straight up, so no extra security needed there.
We have two double bedrooms (as in, a double bed just fits in each) plus a good-sized bathroom and a good-sized kitchen/dining room. There is also a tiny alcove off the dining area that is perfect for a mini-office. We have a microwave and two elements but no oven, a toaster and sandwich maker but no electric jug. We have a fridge and a washing machine.
When we arrived the apartment was freezing and took a lot of warming up. There are two pipes with a mesh over them to allow lots of fresh air in, no doubt an indication of hot summers. Once we had blocked these the place warmed up a bit (heat pump & fan heater but no electric blanket). A work diary wedged with a little stool makes a good hole-blocker.
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on December 21st, 2009•
December 20th. Barcelona. For two days we went on the Barcelona hop-on hop-off bus. It’s a chance to get a good overview of the city and plan what we would like to see, so we didn’t hop-on or off as such. Then today we went to Montserrat, about an hour’s train ride out of Barcelona. What a stunning day out – the best day since our time away. It was clear and cold (-2 C).
Montserrat is a more than 1,000 year old Monastery 3,000 feet up from the valley floor in an unusual formation of mountains. More accurately, after Napoleon had destroyed the monastery and plundered its assets in the 19th Century the monastery had to be reconstructed, and then more reconstruction was required as a result of the Spanish Civil War. Much of the monastery is closed to the public but the basilica is open, and this is well worth seeing. Smaller than constructions such as Notre Dame, it has a presence about it that makes one aware of the link to more than just us.
The surrounding mountains are what make this monastery so amazing, their jagged and column-like shapes. We wonder how the monastery was able to be built in this rugged environment, and how the railway leading up to it was built. The scenery is breathtaking.
Take the train from Barcelona. You then have a choice between the rack railway and the cable car to complete the journey – we took the rack railway. From the monastery you can take the funicular railway up higher and then walk (or climb) to greater heights so that you are looking down a thousand feet or more onto the monastery.
Anyone coming to Barcelona this is a must do, must see. Our video of the rack railway descent is too long for You Tube so check out someone else’s video from You Tube, it will give you an idea of the scenery, though their day is not as clear as ours was
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PErGKM-b60
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on December 20th, 2009•
December 19th. Joie de vivre! Joy of living! This may have been an expression invented by the French but it is practiced by the Spanish. The people of Barcelona seem to live life fully. They laugh and cry and argue, then laugh some more. They appear very happy, even when they are in the middle of a heated discussion.
It is interesting being an outsider observing how people behave. French children, including teens, are happy and well-behaved. Spanish children are happy, noisy and somewhat unruly at times. Young French women wrinkle up their noses and physically shrink from anything they consider unappealing, and this especially includes finding themselves beside a larger person on public transport, yet they don’t seem to even notice the amount of doggy do on the footpaths around Paris. More mature French women look pinched, cold, and dissatisfied with life. French men seem aggressive and demanding (perhaps this is why French women look the way they do).
Spanish women of all ages, on the other hand, seem to live, love and laugh much, and generally live life with gusto. Spanish men also seem to enjoy life in the moment, although a little more quietly than the women. Even Police in uniform can be seen wandering up the street chatting away to a colleague with a cigarette in one hand.
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on December 18th, 2009•
December 17th. Washing day.
But a washing day with a difference as we do it the way it’s done here. I don’t have to beat my washing upon a rock, there is a washing machine. But then to dry it we get to hang out the window and peg it to the clothes line on the outside wall – six stories up! If we drop anything it’s straight down – we won’t see it again as we have no way to reach it. I generously decided to let Ernie peg his stuff out first.