The Western European Blitz: Day 5 - Barcelona beyond
September 25 2019
We have nothing planned today! Shall we roam? Another jham and double creamy brei sandwich with a Coke a Cola to go. Gracías Marga y Josep!
We are going to mosey the 45 minutes or so down to the Gothic district through a different route than yesterday.
Our first stop is The Museu d’història de Barcelona, but before we get there we pass The Cathedral de Barcelona. It truly is quite magnificent. Another famous piece of Goudy’s Legacy in the city. I’m sure the interior would blow us away, but it’s not in the cards today so we simply dazzle from the outside for a bit.
It only takes three times around the building to find the correct street the Museum is on. Then we only mistake libraries and shops for the entrance twice and pass the actual entrance just once. It’s what you call progress.
The museum starts us at the beginning of Barcelona 2,000 years ago when the Romans founded Barcino. Through a series of underground walkways, we are shown the actual remains of Roman infrastructure. The descriptions of the society and how it played out in the structures right in front of us were fascinating. For instance, there were still remains of the sewage draining system and large round clay spheres where they would treat and dry fish.
It’s a long tour through the Roman underground streets. From there they show us similar remnants, but from centuries later. In parts you can actually see the layers of civilization through the construction of different buildings on the same exact plot over several hundred years!
Barcelona’s history is so rampant that after an hour we are spent. We’ve made it to mid evil times and the museum only covers time periods up until about 1500 AD. So, we quickly do a walk-through of the mid-teen centuries and catch a glimpse at swords and lords then set out for a café.
A few blocks through the Gothic quarter and we spill out into a plaza with a table waiting for us outside a café. Let’s try the mussels! A local favorite. Bad idea. They are in a can and just no bueno. Cervesas and empanadas washes them down just fine, kinda. Ingrid comments how the dogs are all so well trained. A lot are off leash and sticking by their human. The café is dog friendly so there are more than a few roaming around. Miles would be 10 feet in the air right now. Coincidentally we are sent a photo from the dog sitter. Miles is leaping for plain old American dogs, but seems to be handling our absence well enough .
Just then a couple month old puppy, a chocolate lab, comes barreling into the table next to us with a toddler in chase not far behind. The young boy grabs the puppy by the harness trying to lift him up. The boy’s mother comes by and calmly dissolves the situation. T’was a fine lunch.
Picasso is 2 minutes around the corner. Two minutes and 4 narrow winding streets until we are in the ticket line. It’s busy. We get the audio guide and start to follow the numbers through. It’s interesting. The big news item for me was just how young Picasso was with that much talent. His more early portrait work was when he was 13 or 14 years old!
The museum has A TON of his work. It’s another hour until our tipping point. Three museums in, the patterns are beginning to coagulate. An hour is all we can handle. At the end is his modern impressionism stuff that is what you think of when someone says Picasso. Again, It’s all Interesting. I’m glad we went. Where’s the next tapa?
We actually end up aimlessly stumbling into El Borne. It’s a section of the Gothic district that has a permanent exhibit surrounding more ancient ruins. A lap in there then back on the street to find some bikes for the journey home.
Bikes are a fail. We are in Las Ramblas flailing around, darting back and forth between bike racks trying to get ole Donkey Republic to snap into shape. No go.
We have a 7pm dinner date with Julia, Marga and Josep’s daughter, so we got to get moving. We power walk through El Raval, the one neighborhood we were told to avoid. It’s not that bad. Looks like a lot of young people doing young people stuff. I mean the suns out and we are working hard to move through with no intention of going back, but it seems fine. We snag a cab.
Julia greets us in la plaza de Virreinawith with a big hug and a double kiss on the cheeks. Around the corner we meet her husband, Herman and her daughter, Paolo. Paolo is an adorable little two-year-old clung to her dad’s leg. (Herman aint bad himself, but I’m not giving him adorable.) Paolo comes bounding to her mom with the unsteady steps of a toddler and giant smile. It’s the cutest thing this city has to offer at the moment.
We roll through Julia and Herman’s neighborhood chatting and getting to know each other a little better. It’s a different side to Barcelona than we’ve seen so far. The streets remind me of Madrid in that they are narrow and brick. No cars rolling by. An occasional motorbike, but it’s quiet mostly. Until you reach the next plaza where a couple of cafés are at work.
Herman heads home with Paolo while Ingrid, Julia, and I walk for a bit longer. It’s 7:45 and Julia is trying to burn some time to get us to a somewhat respectable Spanish dinner time. We only make it until 8pm. She’s not hungry, but she’s polite. We eat.
Julia picks a casual seafood place (Lluritu) and we sit at the bar. Mussels, knives (a long shelled rubbery seafood), Spanish scallops (Zamburiña), clams, pan con tomato, and a bottle of wine.
Our conversation revolves around culture, food, beer, bedtimes, work, travel. I ask Julia how long she normally would spend at a place like this for dinner? Hours. She says they have a Spanish word for the time after dinner which means basically sit around and shoot the shit forever. I forgot the word after talking for several more hours
Julia’s got one more trick up her sleeve. Craft beer bar. Hallelujah! Julia has quickly become a favorite of mine. We grab a handful of IPAs, Stouts, and Saisons all from either Catalon or Barcelona with one Norwegian Stout as the outlier. Apparently, Herman is very into craft beer. Their visit to Vermont this past summer was a game changer. So, I am able to wax poetic about the wonderful world of craft beer with someone who is actually interested. Fantastico! After bending her ear for quite a while we realize mid night is fast approaching. Julia has work in the morning. Which is like 1 out of the 10 days she actually does have to work with her FIVE months of holiday and 24 vacation days! Freaking Europe. We are not doing any of this “work” life right.
We say our goodbye’s to Julia with promises to keep in touch.
It’s a slice of Pizza at an empty little spot around the corner before Ingrid and I grab a cab ride home. The woman who hands us the slices informs us the night is just beginning. There is a Disco close by and when it empties out she will be mobbed. This is intriguing. Never been to a European Disco.
“What time does such a disco get rolling and when will we all be spilling out for a 4th meal pizza slice?”
“Usually it gets going heavy between 1am - 3am.”
“We’ll just take the slices to go. Please and thank you.”
Another full day in the books. We’re getting the hang of this minus the 3am disco thing. We’re not there yet. Feels more like a German vacation.
Tomorrow we travel to Monseratt!