I was so excited about my first morning in Barcelona that I woke up on Thursday at 9:30, having only gotten a handful of hours of sleep. I walked across the street to the little market to pick up some food for breakfast and dinner before walking down the street in search of a little coffee shop.
Kind of obsessed with this notebook...
Let me paint a picture of the Sagrada Familia neighborhood around 11 am: workers already at their jobs, but families are out and about. Now, it’s vacation time in Europe and things would be quiet, if not for the tourists. It’s already warm, but not unbearably hot, and people are walking their dogs and everyone seems to know each other as they wave “Bon dia” to the people on the streets. These little pockets over wonderful hidden away in a big city grid make me feel like I already belong in this peaceful city brimming with life. I am utterly content with my café con leche and my Moleskin journal. I felt like a regular Hemingway scribbling away in my journal, minus the abundance of alcohol.
At this point, I’m brimming with ideas of things to do and feeling rather ambitious. After consulting my map, I hop on the metro to go to the Sagrada Família.
Words, unfortunately, cannot describe all that is the Sagrada Família. It is Antoni Gaudí’s most ambitious work and has still not been completed. Monstrous towers shoot toward the sky, religious images tower above, and the ornate detail derived from nature overwhelms the senses. It is a building that makes jaws drop, the kind that you can see a thousand pictures of and still remain in awe when seeing it in person.
Here you can see the difference between the new and old stone
More construction
Tip tops of the towers
Other entrance to the Sagrada Familia
Crazy sculptures of the New Testament and the Passion
Gaudí’s work in general is very difficult to grasp and I certainly had a difficult time. It’s massive form, intricate details, and unique architecture is utterly mind boggling. However, with a bit of explanation, it starts to come together and it becomes really quite beautiful.
So, here I am feeling rather accomplished, having gotten myself around quite well and taking some great pictures. I learned some very important skills, including but not limited to:
- Memorizing street names and metro stops like a beast
- Walking like a beast
- Adjusting to my orthotics and taped ankle like a beast
- Holding onto my purse while taking pictures like a beast
- Not walking over the metro vents while wearing a skirt
Placa Catalunya, the city center
My guide book suggested I get off the metro at Plaça Cataluyna, the center of the city. I walked around a bit and took some pictures before remembering that the museum was in a different plaza. In all fairness, plazas are exciting. Well, at least they were exciting at the time before I managed to locate most of the plazas in the old city with the exception of the Plaça del Rei.
I love plazas. It is one of the amazing things that the States utterly lacks. The US is built for cars, but Europe is built for people. It’s rather hard to miss the larger plazas. These open spaces are perfect for walking, lounging, and catching up with friends. They are the anti-cities of cities from a US perspective because open space is the last thing one would expect to find in somewhere like New York. However, the Catalans like their space. When the old city was expanded (called L’Eixample, aka “The Enlargement”), they planned to keep terraces with green space and cut every street corner at a 45 degree angle to allow more like in the middle of street intersections. It opens up everything and makes the city feel wide.
Some plaza... not the right plaza, but a plaza nonetheless
Since I managed to get myself to the wrong plaza, I find a tourist office and they pointed me the way. So, I hopped back on the metro, got off, walking a few blocks in each direction and… no plaza. So, it’s back to the map and I realize I can take one more metro stop to get myself closer. So, I find myself getting off the Jaume I metro stop in the old city around one in the afternoon. It’s hot and I’m running out of water, but I figure I can re-fill my water bottle in the museum and grab a baguette and fruit for lunch afterward.
But, the best laid plans of mice and men and foreign exchange students often go awry.
Even now I’m not exactly sure where I went. Needless to say, my map was utterly useless. While the new city (L’Eixample) is constructed of neat square grids, the roads of the old city are winding, diagonal, narrow pathways that jet out in arbitrary directions. There are about a million plazas and not enough signs. My map did not have enough details to zoom in on the city to help me navigate, so I was at the mercy of random street signs that vaguely pointed in a general direction.
Needless to say, I got rather lost. Then again, perhaps lost is not the right word because I constantly had myself oriented with the metro station. I just couldn’t find “the damn plaza,” which became my nickname for the Plaça del Rei.
In hindsight, the old city was quite lovely. The windy roads are actually quaint and interesting because there is a surprise around every corner, whether it be old buildings or intriguing botigues (“shops” in Catalán). On the bright side, I managed to find every other plaza in the city. However at the time, I was without water, exhausted from walking around for 3 hours, and rather hungry. My ankle was not particularly happy with me, so I sucked it up and marched myself into a tourist office for directions. As it turns out, the museum was only a few blocks behind the metro stop in the one direction I had not walked before.
Pretty streets... I am so lost.
Clothes hanging on a balcony... how very European.
The museum was really interesting had I not been about to drop dead. There was no water allowed in the museum, so I languished about in the air conditioning. I did take a few pictures, but we were not allowed to use our flash. Because the museum was mostly underground to reveal the ancient Iberian ruins, the quality of the pictures aren’t the best, but here are some better ones:
Barcelona was actually called "Barcin" or "Barcino" in ye old days.
Lots of cool rocks and ruins
These giant pots held wine or fish mush
Bowls from ye old days
Chapel outside of the museum
Alter and artwork of the chapel
By the time I took the metro home, it was a little before 5 pm. The supermarket across the street had closed for siesta from 3 to 5, so I waited for it to open back up and get some lunch. Never before has a mini-baguette, a nectarine, yogurt, and water tasted so good.
After such an exhausting Thursday, I was definitely ready to relax. Instead, I went to Grácia. And then I went back the next night. And then I went back the next night. So, Grácia is a story in and of itself.
Next post: observations on hostel life and my first and second nights in Grácia!
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