Want to Come for Christmas?: Chapter 10: Bueno Barcelona

Sunday

We left Madrid on a sunny Sunday, and throughout that trip, we were very glad to have gotten the first class seats on the trains: lots of room, great views and a 3+ hour trip that seemed like a lot less. And it was a high speed train, so again, it was one in which we had to "look NOW" , or we wouldn't have seen 1) washing day 2) a house garden 3) a herd of goats. We were just flying along, and I swear, we went through Nebraska (rolling hills with farms and ranchlands), Nevada (arid, dry areas), California (hilly, cavernous areas) and finally, Northern Florida. Yes: this was all on the way to Barca.

We zipped into a taxi (they were yellow and black, as opposed to Madrid's white and red), and he declared we were there, at 439 Gran Via. Javier was there waiting for us and ushered us into a beautiful, modern (looked very manly) apartment on the 3rd floor of his 7story building (his mother lived on that floor.) The building had been in their family for many years, and the two apts that he showed us had been refurbished in the past few years. Excellent for Andy and me!

We did the things that we had done in Paris, Donostia, and Madrid: went out and bought some things for breakfast (and wine/beer time). We're getting so good at this. We also bought two five-day Metro tickets and were thrilled to see that the Rocafort stop was down at the corner, with an elevator (in case my legs got sore.) We then went in search of a corner place to have a little Sunday night dinner: Pura Brasa, which was like a sports bar with a huge TV in it: if Andy couldn't get basketball, maybe he'd be a little happy with futbol. (Not really). We DID meet a man sitting next to us who had lived in Washington DC, and had even taken his kids to Nags Head, many moons ago. He asked why we were here, and when we told him we had never been here before, he launched into a tale of the city. As part, he told us about a locals favorite, a restaurant called Barceloneta, down on the waterfront. We said we may enjoy that around New Years Day, and he said he may take his grand kids to Nags Head, since he had met us and we had renewed his interest.

Monday: Gaudi is Close to God

I'm just saying that when Gaudi builds a Cathedral, he goes ALL the way, not just half: we saw this in the first big building that we looked for in Barcelona. Let's take a step back, here, and tell you that EVERY time we went looking for a particular place, all we had to do is come out of the dark subway stop, look into the light, and voila! "The Place" was there! And so it was with la Sagrada Familia, exclusively pointed out at our Metro, and all we had to do was wait in line for about 50 minutes. It was beyond belief: not only the stunning stained glass windows - in all colors, like a rainbow, and changing every hour - but the architecture itself was incredible. As well, the thought that Gaudi (and the others Post-Gaudi) put into every door, window, altar, choir loft, arch, crypt and stairway (circular!) was a thought process that would have taken yours truly much more time and energy than this man obviously did in a very short amount of time. Andy was taking photo after photo (and wishing his cousin Ray was here with him, to advise him on the photographic process). When we left, we hated to go out the gate of the cathedral.

What I mean by the title of this missive is that Gaudi wants to put his faith very close to the eyes and arms of God in an extremely important cathedral, who's breadth and width and height wouldn't be finished in his lifetime, or even his children's, or his children's children. How do you do that: make a building who's construction outlives your lifetime? I guess all of the builders and architects of all these cathedrals we have found ourselves guests of were in the same boat, and if they weren't doing it for God, then what were they doing it for?

All deep-thinking aside, we found a 3pm place for lunch, and the took a siesta, and went out looking for another cathedral! We found one (it is t hard to do, here in Europe) and we were looking through The Cathedral de Barcelona, or the Barcelona Cathedral, built in the 13th through the 15th century. Very old, not very restored, but real cool choir area: again, these workmen and woodwrights were very good about making every seat different for thee people who sang the congregation into heaven (or as near as they could get.) We saw some ET men (that's what we began calling the Eiffel Tower men) in the square, shooting helicopters into the air that would rain down with blue and red lights ("2 Euros each".) After a brief stop at a place with a neat name - Petit Jet Lag - we were on the run, again. We wanted to see the Arch de Triumphe one more time. Not in France, not in Madrid, but in Barca. And it was right where the Metro said it was ("whoa! That's it! The Arch!") but there were only some young kids, doing tricks on bikes and skateboards around....not much excitement. So back we went to our apartment. Time for sleep.