Previously on A Vacation Story: I recounted visits made by weirdobserver or his friends to 7 cities including London, Nice, Monaco and Paris.
–This narration is dedicated to my numerous Spanish speaking friends, which interestingly includes no Spaniard.
‘Muchas Gracias por las pocos clases de español.’–
Whoever said ‘see paris and die’, alongside whoever abides by it, must either not have been to Barcelona or even heard of the city, or be suffering from an acute case of reality disorder. – Toluwalope Ige
A Gaudi Lizard from Parc Guëll
I know I have referenced the phrase ‘see Paris and die’ out of context here from the origin of the phrase, but you’ll agree with me that Paris is often referred to as the place to go to. To begin with, Paris is a beautiful place as I expressed in the last episode, and absolutely worth visiting. The quote merely suggests that, if you happen to see Paris before Barcelona, don’t even think of dying, at least wait to see Barcelona.
As I stepped onto the ‘Plaça de Catalunya’, the central square of Catalonia (of which Barcelona is a major part) and absorbed the environment around me, the thoughts of the cost of this vacation, which had occupied my mind through the bus ride from the airport to the city centre, quickly vanished to a corner of my brain never to be recalled till I got back home and checked my account balance. Behold, I was finally in Barcelona and saddled with the task of discovering as much of this city as I can in four days.
The first signs that struck me as I looked around were, ‘Here lives football, the home of Barcelona FC’ and ‘Messi is here’. North, South, East, West of me, I could see people wearing the Barcelona and Argentinean jerseys with no other name written at the back than, MESSI 10. Well, there were a few Neymar and Suarez. The Welcome.
Two things I had heard so much about before this trip were the ‘Las Ramblas’ road and ‘Gaudi’ – works of Antoni Gaudi. There shall be no delay. Quickly, after absorbing the Plaça de Catalunya, I set out for the closest work of Gaudi via the Las Ramblas. The Casa Batilló – fantastical Gaudi designed apartments, as Google puts it; a brilliant show of Catalan heritage architecture as I put it. This isn’t even close to his most famous work. The yet to be completed ‘Sagrada Familia’ catholic church located in another part of town stands out as his most famous. Gazing at the beautiful exterior of the Sagrada, though partly covered with cranes and construction scaffolds, one can’t but wonder about the capacity of the human mind to put together millions of little intricate pieces into one styled awe-inspiring structure. With a queue of hundreds at the entrance waiting to get in, I decided to pass on viewing the interior of this masterpiece. From what I hear, it is ‘heavenly’. Other noteworthy Gaudi sites I was at were the Parc Guëll and the Casa Milà which was sadly covered up at the time. Importantly, Gaudi and the Catalan architecture aren’t the only significant buildings in Barcelona. One modern day structure that caught my attention was the crystalline egg building, Agbar Tower. This 38-storey building, similar to the Gherkin in London, stands out in the city as one to behold, and is rightly sited in a manner, as to be visible from different parts of Barcelona, such as to call one to it. The Architecture.
With the northwards stroll along the Las Ramblas completed, I headed southwards to the more busy half of the road, and towards my accommodation. This half bustled with street performances of all sorts from different types of artists, painters, caricaturists, and the best performance of ‘peeps that dress up (paint up) as famous real or fairytale personalities’ I have seen so far. The whole stretch of the 300m or so walk had some excitement in it, ending up at the monument of Christopher Columbus, one of many monuments spread all over Barcelona. We know who Chris is right? He discovered America…bla bla bla. Yeah right. Barcelona makes a good environment to just walk around and observe – lots of parks and green areas and people doing interesting stuff at them. Fortune would have me walk in right in time to the Monjuic for the Magic Fountain show. It’s normally on a schedule, however, today’s was special. The 2000 or so people who stood with agaze eyes would also agree with me that it was. It was for some sort of centenary celebration and the fountain was synced to a live music performance rather than a playback. The best fountain show ever. The Ambience.
My Favourite: Chris
By actual choice and not by lack of a cheaper or closer option I chose to stay in a hostel right beside the beach. I mean, considering I’ve ascribed hydrophobia with my personality . Well, that was the only way I was going to get myself to go to the wonderful Barcelona beach. Oh dear, ‘la plage était vraiment et absolument très belle’. (I just had to say that in french for emphasis). Though it was crowded, it was with loads of beautiful ‘sexy’ (for lack of a more appropriate word) people, but of course, less can’t be expected from a good beach in peak summer. It was a vast expanse of 100s of square metres of smooth sand, with the waves of the warm waters gently reaching the shores creating the best atmosphere for swimming, sunbathing, beach volleyball and football, jogging, and even showoff body building and of course not forgetting people watching (my favourite). The beach was the place where the young gathered for daytime fun. The fun.
Next up to look into was the culture. What mainly represents the culture in Barcelona? Flamenco? I went for a show. It was pretty expensive, but it was worth it. It really was. Art – Museums? Well, I visited the museum of the great Picasso, and I kept asking myself what exactly made this guy acclaimed as great. I guess I don’t have eyes for art. Alas! Football? In Barcelona, football isn’t just fun, it’s a culture; it’s the blood of the city. It bears life and Camp Nou is the heart of this. As much as I’m a Barcelona FC + Messi + Neymar + Suarez hater, and previously a Sanchez hater (not anymore though), I had to pay homage to this heart. The cultural centre where the non-citizen Messi is honoured as if his ancestors are Catalans and the homeboy Fabregas is booed. If I were a Barcelona – Messi lover, I’d have used really positive words here to describe the experience, but I can’t do that; I have real beef. The Culture.
Subsequently, I wondered into Religion. Barcelona is historically Catholic, however what concerned me wasn’t the catholic history or present but rather the monumental Monastery of Montserrat – Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey. A tourist attracting abbey built high up on a mountain nearly 1,000m above sea level, where lies the statue of the Black Madonna – la morenata, the patron saint of Catalonia and one of the most celebrated images in Spain, historically dating back to pre-eight century. Apart from the statue, two other things bring people to the abbey. Firstly, it is the home of the world acclaimed Escolania boys choir, who sing the ‘Virolai’ at noon each day (unfortunately, no one told me the boys had gone on summer holidays before I went there). Secondly, is the mountain climbing thrill and the opportunity to stand 1,200m above sea level to have a panoramic view of Catalonia, with the encouragement of the mysteries of the rosary for the climb. Religious or not, Mountain lover or not, if one has a day or at least half a day, Montserrat is a should go. The Religion.
Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey
Not left out in Barcelona is the drive to preserve flora and fauna particularly through the zoo dedicated to the preservation of threatened animal species. Sadly, a number of the animals I went to see found a way of hiding or being off display at the time of my visit, particularly the tiger and dolphin. So till date, I’ve still not seen either. Oh yeah, and snowflake, the albino gorilla had been dead since 2003. The preservation
Just as you might have enjoyed this piece so much that you’ve not realised how much time you have spent reading it, such was my appreciation of Barcelona that I lost track of time in catching my plane out. I had to do a sprint from the train station, through customs to the boarding gate. I was dripping with sweat and panting like Bingo when I got there. Good thing I made it. Missed a flight one too many times. Me and my lateness.
Barcelona may not be the best city to visit, but it tops my list, and I’ll place it above Paris today, tomorrow and the day after.
And to wrap it up, guess what? Spanish has now become my 4th language. ¡Hasta luego!
Next on A Vacation Story: From Madrid with Love.
WeirdObserver 