BARCELONA on the FLY

As we banked in over Barcelona and made our sweeping final approach from the sea there was hardly any traffic on the major highways below or activity at the port where many tankers sat at anchor.  It was eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning and there didn’t seem to be any rush hour underway by land or by water.

We had made a three night booking over the Internet at a place called Hostal Live   http://www.hostallivebarcelona.comlocated along one of the city’s busiest boulevards, Gran Via Corts de Catalones, with its stately sycamores and bike trails.  It was an outstanding choice and I recommend it highly – great location, near restaurants, landmarks, the Metro, Ramblas, the Old City – and the staff couldn’t be nicer or more knowledgeable.

The bus dropped us off a few blocks from our hotel and after checking into the brand new Hostal Live, and getting directions from our English speaking and very hip daytime manager, Adriena, we sleep-walked over to the Placa de Catalunyo, where a giant fountain adorned a beautiful square filled with locals, touristas, and pigeons.  This is where you can purchase tickets for the on-off tour bus known as the Barcelona Bus Turistic.  We bought a two day pass for $46€ each.  On-off busses are always the best way to get a good overview and perspective when trying to figure out a new city.

After being warned repeatedly about pickpockets, I managed to drop my wallet on the ground as I was fumbling in my “travel vest of a million pockets” and the nice people in line behind us picked it up and handed it back to me.  So much for pickpockets.  Many tourists have been scared into wearing their day packs on the front like they are carrying a baby.  Now, I’m not saying you should go around oblivious to your surroundings, exposing your valuables to the world, but you don’t need to obsess.  And you probably could get jacked up in Baltimore just as easily as you could in Barcelona.  It also helps to take a little nap after flying all night and landing in a foreign country before you venture out for some sightseeing.  Everything goes better when your brain is working properly.

Barcelona is a City of Balconies – wrought iron like in New Orleans, stone, wooden, they come in all shapes and materials, and almost every home has one.  Most balconies are adorned with plants, and many have either the Spanish or Catalonian flags which are both yellow and red and look pretty much the same.

Everywhere you look there are scooters, bikes, skate boards, electric bikes, Segways, kids scooters, and roller blades constantly zipping by.  And the bicyclists and scooters haul ass.  Spanish life may be slow, but put a Spaniard on anything with wheels and they are off to the races.  You really have to pay attention to where you are at all times so you don’t get flattened.  I have never seen a place where skateboards are actually a popular form of transit.  People of all ages are foot pumping around the city on their long boards – even some in business suits and carrying brief cases on their way to work.

There are as many bikes as cars in Barcelona and the red and white bicingbike share bikes are parked in large computerized racks everywhere you go.  They are super popular and used by people of all ages.  A yearly pass only costs 40€, making it the most convenient form of transportation around.

You see helmeted businessmen in suits and women dressed to the nines, riding scooters.  As in all metro areas, parking is at a premium, but most of the parking spaces, and even sections of sidewalk, are taken up by scooters, not cars.  And watching the traffic flow is a total hoot.  The scooters all bunch together at each traffic light and when the light turns green they all burst forward in a mad dash, jockeying for position like little water bugs.  And contrary to what you might have heard, most of the scooters are not loud and noisy.

The Metro is spotless and efficient.  We bought the T-10 pass which gave us 10 trips for 10€, and it was definitely the way to go.  They had the neatest thing I have ever seen on a subway to help you figure out where you are going.  There is a panel in each car that lights up at each station when you arrive so you know where you are without having to get your audio cues from the conductor, who you usually can’t understand.  And while the underground train has individual cars, there are no interior doors, so you can easily walk through to the adjoining car if the one you got on is too crowded.

Like the city streets, the Metro stations are amazingly clean, mainly because they have plastic hanging bags on attractive wire frames for trash in order to eliminate odors and stains.  And, of course, attendants are always sweeping and mopping.

Barcelona is divided into neighborhood sections, and each can take days to truly see.  One of the premiere areas to visit, and the only place we just had to get off the bus to check out that first day, was Montjuic, which means the Mountain of the Jews.  It got its name because of the large Jewish cemetery along its crest.  Montjuic is like a candy store of neat places to visit, including the Olympic Stadium and St. George’s Palace indoor sports complex, the Pueblo Espanol (Spanish Village), the Juan Miro Museum, the Ethnological Museum, the Archaeology Museum of Catalonia, the Montjuic Castle, the National Palace (Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya), the Magic Fountain (with colorful light shows each evening), expansive gardens and trails, and a funicular that runs from the top of the mountain all the way down to the harbor.

                 Lluis Domenech I Montanar’s Casa Lleo-Morera

                  Joseph Puig I Cadafalch’s Casa Amatler

                          Enric Sagnier’s Casa Mulleras

                 Marcel-li Coquillat iLiofrui’s Casa Bonet

And Barcelona’s – dare I say the earth’s – most audacious architect, Antoni Gaudi’s Casa Batlo and “La Pedrera” Espal Gaudi.  The word gaudy, which means too bright or heavily decorated, derives from this flamboyant Spanish architect who to this day stands as a beacon to nonconformity.  And given that he spent most of his time working in Barcelona, his treasures dot the city like bright jewels.  The audacious buildings along the Block of Discord represent different modernistic approaches from the early 1900s, and clash with one another like dueling sculptures or crazed works of art, often appearing to be melting into surreal shapes that defy description – or gravity.

While checking out the splendid architecture and the finely decorated balconies we happened upon what we came to affectionately refer to as “Tapas Street” at the upper end of the world famous Ramblas pedestrian byway.  It was a tree-lined street with a linear park running down the middle where people strolled in the twilight.  Barcas come out to play when the sun goes down and walking the dog and socializing is a big part of the evening ritual.  Women and lovers walk arm-in-arm and young parents push strollers while seniors sit on benches sharing the latest juicy gossip.

The first two nights of our stay, we ate tapas (small plates featuring local delicacies like anchovies and all things pork) at several of a zillion outdoor cafes that lined the leafy boulevard.  A dinner for two cost about $50.  Good wine was $5 a glass and a bottle of San Miquel beer about the same.  Sangria was $21 a pitcher. 

Food is more expensive in Barcelona because waiters are paid a fair wage and are not dependent on tips.  And Barcas seemed to take genuine pride in their work no matter how menial.  There are very few immigrants, so the Spanish aren’t dependent on cheap foreign labor to do their dirty work.  They pay more for what they get, but in the end, I think they get more than they pay for.