Barcelona 2010
( First Posted 23 Aug 2010 )
Only an hour’s flight separates Barcelona from Paris, a distance of some 830 km. It was interesting to observe what people carry in their hand luggage. In the queue just ahead of us at Charles de Gaulle Airport, a young lady carried her pet pomeranian with its furry head and wet tongue peeking out of her handbag. Have doggie will travel. This gives new meaning to the term “doggie-bag”
We were headed for Barcelona after G finished his INSEAD course, a well-earned holiday break after all that hard work. Imagine, classes went on as normal on Bastille Day, a public holiday, one would think, for all, but not for INSEAD students. Travelling within the EU is such a breeze – we walked right out of the airport without having to clear immigration or customs requirements of any sort.
Arriving in Barcelona
A short but costly 30- minute taxi ride from the airport brought us to our hotel at Abbas Sant. It was to be our one and only cab ride ever.
The hotel is merely a hop away from the train station. ( highly recommended ) Barcelona has a system of metro travel that allows you to buy one stored value ticket valid for 10 journeys within the city zone, and up to 10 people can share that one ticket. Cool.
Since there are 4 of us, it takes one person to station himself at the gantry, insert the ticket, wait for the gantry to open, retrieve the ticket, repeat this 4 times until the last person goes across. This city may not be as green as Paris, but it does play a small role in saving some trees, as far as this goes.
Barcelona has an easy, relaxed atmosphere. Almost everyone is dressed in casual tops ( read – tshirts ) and flip-flops. One almost has the feeling of being back in Singapore again, as far as the dressing goes. The air is different too – I can breathe easier inside the trains. Back in Paris, being of a certain height puts you right under the armpits of some commuters with one arm outstretched, holding on to the rails and this can severely restrict breathing functions, as I have encountered time and again.
We spent our first evening strolling the quaint streets of the Rambla ( Old Barcelona ) where my primal urge to shop was fulfilled by Desigual, Bershka, Stravinsky, Massimo Dutti, Zara, Promod, all calling my name. I gravitated to Desigual, mostly ( one has to exercise some discetion and control ) and added some colours to the existing wardrobe. Bargain shopping is such sweet pleasure!
After dinner, we made our way up to Montjuic (” Hill of the Jews” in Medieval Catalan language ) to check out their Magic Fountain. A funicular ride up a steep incline brought us to the foot of the Hill. From there, it was a long walk ( what’s new? ) to the fountain. Along the way, we were greeted by spectators spilling out of the Olympic Stadium after a match. Incidentally, both the Stadium and the Fountain were both built in 1929. The Magic Fountain was a sight and sound experience. For that evening, we were typical tourists, lapping it all in, an almost romantic interlude, with the soft rays of light falling on the Gothic Art Museum in the background, reflecting a surreal blue hue.
Barcelona is about Gaudi – his house, his monuments, his unfinished “Sagrada Familia” project – 100 years in the making and still under construction. Very little is documented about the man and his family, while his genius is apparent in his art. We can only speculate about what’s unsaid which may be more telling than what’s said.
Eating out
Tapas is a popular choice. It is otherwise another fancy name for finger food, serve in very minute portions, so you will have to order about 8 – 10 different types at one go. Sadly, there is no equivalent of “carafe d’eau” here. I unabashedly asked for tap water at a restaurant only to be told that “tap water is not good to drink here.” Have to take their word for it and pay 5 Euro for a bottle of mineral water. Ouch! Pastries are good here. Breakfast consists of a pastry and coffee, under 2Euro. Quite a bargain. Do not skip breakfast, or else wait till 1.30 pm before the restaurant owners open their doors to serve lunch.
Shopping and Siesta
Bring plenty of Euros. Credit cards not accepted here.
Not on a Sunday, and not during 2 pm to 4 pm on any other day when the shop owners take their siesta. When in Spain, do as the Spaniards do – head back to hotel for siesta. With shopping out of the equation, sleep is a good alternative.
Travelling with S and S
We were joined by a dear couple, S and S ( yes, they have the same initials, cheesy as it sounds ) who are close buddies of ours. Travelling with friends take on greater dimensions than travelling with just your family. For instance, I can scoot off with my girlfriend to do the girl stuff, while leaving the kids with G and the other S, who can bond over guy stuff. The kids find their own entertainment, usually bugging G to buy them gelatos in their favourite flavours. It also means you can order up to 20 different kinds of Tapas to share
Whilst I was experiencing some museum fatigue after the jaunt in Paris. S and S were practical people – when tired, skip the visit. So it was that my planned itinerary of Barcelona was cut down by half, and was twice as enjoyable. They operated at a different pace and I liked that!S and S also made sleeping arrangements much easier for us. You see, the hotels here consider D, who is 14, an adult. Any hotel room takes up to a max of 3 people only, so we had a slight hiccup with the 4 of us. We did the unspeakable – alright, I confess. Reservations with the hotels were made for 2 rooms with an extra bed, making a total of 6 guests – 3 in each room. We transported the extra mattress from their room to our room for A, upon check-in and did the return journey for the mattress upon check-out. Either that, or an extra room for a week. Do the math. We are not alone!
Day Trips
Apart from Gaudi monuments and strolling along the shopping streets in Barcelona, there was not much else to do. Barcelona is much smaller than Paris, with a lot less museums and crowds. It was time to go further afield. We ventured out to Sitgues ( a gay,seaside town), Figueres ( home of the Dali museum ) and Girona, a charming medieval city, with fortifications still intact from days gone by.
Beware of Pickpockets
While waiting for our train to the airport, we saw the same gang of 3 waiting to strike again – same modus operandi – the fat lady was pushing her way past other passengers to try to get onto the train. When she saw us, she quickly moved away to another carriage.
Street Performers and bric-a-brac stalls
Lingering Thoughts
Barcelona – altogether a wonderful place to unwind. Next stop – Madrid, perhaps. I’ll definitely be back in Spain, soon.
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