Barcelona - 21 September 2011 (2)

Sagrada Familia

Sagrada Familia

Then I had my crazy idea for the trip and decided that the Sagrada Familia did not look that far away on the map and we could walk it.  We just needed to keep heading right and then left, one block at a time and we would find it.  We walked slowly, looking for the parrots which we could hear overhead and taking frequent rest stops whenever there was a seat.  By the time we hit some streets which were named on my map, we were nearer to our target than I had expected, almost being at Tetuan Square.

Sagrada Familia

Elevator on Sagrada Familia

We mostly succeeded in keeping out of the sun as the buildings cast shadows over the pavements and there were several tree lined avenues and squares.  This was definitely not the tourist area and, although there were cafés on every street, they didn’t seem welcoming. 

As we were crossing the Diagonal, a main street which lies diagonally to the main grid, we were very relieved to see the unmistakeable spires of the cathedral rising above the buildings.  We only had two more blocks to negotiate.  Just before the cathedral and back in the tourist zone, we found a decent café and went in for a much deserved and appreciated ice-cream.

Crane beside Sagrada Familia

Cranes by Sagrada Familia

Gaudi’s famous Sagrada Familia is known both for being decidedly original in design and for being unfinished.  It did not disappoint.  There seemed to be a lot of building going on.  The cranes were very active, swinging this way and that and lowering things in place.  Men were going up and down in the lifts and we happily took photos.  We didn’t go inside, but looked at the outside for a considerable time.

Sagrada Familia

When we had finally had our fill, I decided to be nice to my mum and try getting back on the Metro.  I got a T-10 ticket for €8.25, which the guide book said gave 10 rides and could be used by more than one person.  It was quite complicated getting to the correct Metro line, and involved walking along a platform, climbing stairs at the end walking a bit and then going back down to another platform.  Our first two rides were back to the Passeig de Gracia, where we emerged just down from our favourite bar where we had two freshly squeezed orange juices.

As we walked back to the hotel, we finally got good views of a parrot.  It was in the trees on the Plaça de Catalunya.  We called into the hotel for a brief rest and recovery and then headed off to eat.

Barcelona - 21 September 2011 (1)

I slept really well and didn’t get up until after 07.00.  We left the hotel after 09.00 and went for a coffee having eaten the last of our croissants for breakfast.  We found a very nice bar just a few doors down from where we had eaten breakfast on Monday.

After coffee, we walked down to the Picasso Museum.  There was a long queue but it went down fairly quickly.  My mum wanted to see a picture Picasso had painted of his mother when he was seventeen, but it wasn’t in the museum.  Lots of Picasso’s works are scattered around galleries and collections throughout the world and the museum can only offer a taste of the different styles he adopted throughout his life.

The paintings from Picasso’s first few years were very good but I felt it went downhill after that.  Call me a cultural peasant if you wish, but his drawings of doves in the later years reminded me of the birds in that unforgettable series “Rhoobarb and Custard”.  The last few rooms of the museum were entirely devoted to his version of the Goya painting of the Spanish Infantas.  I preferred the original.  We noticed how many of the paintings were displayed with Picasso’s sketchbooks to show how the paintings evolved.  I told my mum to keep her sketches as they could be worth a bit in the future.  The trouble is that my mum rarely sketches and gets the painting right first time.

We left the museum and found somewhere for a coffee.  I had a look in the guidebook and read that the Museum of the History of Barcelona had Roman ruins in the basement.  Not having had an adequate fix of ruins in Tarragona, this was a must-see, so off we went.

At the museum, I checked my rucksack into locker number 40 and we got the included audio tour.  This was better than the Picasso Museum where the audio tour would have been an extra €3 each.

The “time machine” which took us down to the ruins wasn’t nearly as much fun as the one in the Yorvik Museum in York.  It was just a lift with the date lit up which ran from 2011 to 12BC as we went down.

I’ve been in many Ancient Roman cities in my time, but never before have I strolled in a laundry, a garum and fish processing factory or a winery.  I have now and it was dead interesting.  I guess the museum had to make do with whatever happened to be underneath the building and they did it well.  In other sites, like Leptis Magna, Sabretha, Jerash or Dougga, similar establishments would be lying amongst all the rubble at the fringes of the site, never to be restored or included in the tours.

At the end of the site was the episcopal palace of AD600 and then we climbed to the mediaeval hall, where we had to return our audio guides.  After a comfort break, we were given the choice of the chapel or the exit.  We chose the exit but, big panic, it didn’t lead to the lockers.  Instead it led to a small square where they were erecting scaffolding for a concert for the fiesta.  We were right outside the museum.  Waving my locker keys, I asked a random security man for help and he escorted me to the museum entrance where I was happily reunited with my rucksack.

We then wandered off and found a small café with two courses for €10.90 and which had several vegetarian options.  We started with beetroot salmorejo as it is similar to gaspacho.  I loved it because it was so flavour packed that it made your eyes water.  My mother was not so impressed.  The soup was followed by hake for my mum and zucchini risotto for me.  Drink was included and I think deserts were too, but we didn’t have any.

Barcelona - 20 September 2011 (2)

When we finally got off the train at the Passeig de Gracia, they had opened a gate so we could go up out of the station straight from the platform.  We emerged off the beaten track and off the map, but I headed downhill and to the right and we soon reached a familiar junction on the main road.

Barcelona was having a book fair, so we walked down past a near continuous line of book stalls.  This would be a great idea for Parliament Street one week, especially as Borders is now closed.  There are quite a few second hand book shops in York so they could be given stalls as well and sellers from outside town.  Perhaps I might write and suggest it.

The pigeons were casting long shadows on the square as we walked across.  People sell food for them so they are very tame.  As we walked through the feathered crowds, they were unfazed and barely moved.  One even preened itself right in front of us.

As we got our key from reception, someone tried to get a room for the several nights.  I listened in with trepidation in case he was quoted a much lower rate than I had paid.  I was relieved to hear that they were fully booked from Wednesday evening.

Fountain in Placa de Catalunya

After dumping our stuff and when my mum had cooled down, we headed through the square and went back to the bar of the previous evening.  Instead of sitting outside, we sat at the bar.  My mum had a shandy which they call a “clara” and I enjoyed a freshly squeezed orange juice.  All the bocadillos were laid out on the bar, so we were tempted to order three: prawns and crab; smoked salmon and cheese; and asparagus, as well as two tapas: mushrooms and patatas bravas.  The barmen started off being quite chatty.  The main one working on our section introduced us to his daughters, who were still small.  One wanted to be a bank manager and the other a dancer.  They were eating with three women, one of which was his wife.  We had another drink and then got the bill.

Fountain in Placa de Catalunya

Blue lights were flashing and we saw our third demonstration in as many days as we walked home across the square.  It seemed a half-hearted affair with the demonstrators being outnumbered by the police vans, let alone the police.  We went to look at the fountains which were all illuminated and then sat on a bench.  There was an argument going on at the next bench, where one boy was talking very loudly and was being pushed back on the seat by three other boys whenever he tried to stand up.  He said sorry and complained that they were treating him badly, but none of his friends sitting next to him even appeared to notice.  So we moved on and went to a shoe shop where, thanks to my excellent mime, my mum bought a pair of inner soles to help her aching feet.  Then we went back to our hotel to recover sufficiently for a day of walking round the old town the next day.

Tarragona - 20 September 2011 (2)

The Bells!

First stop was a café for more drinks.  My mum and Ann caught up with the last five years and reminisced about when they met and the other characters at the night school.  I chatted to James who I had not met before.  At 12.00, it got very noisy as two sets of bells nearby started to ring.  We paid our bill and moved on swiftly.

Roman Wall in Placa del Forum, Tarragona

Fountain in Placa del Forum, Tarragona

We wandered slowly through the town, looking for somewhere to eat.  I liked the brightly painted houses and the Plaça del Forum, which included a freestanding part of a Roman wall and two interesting fountains.  We walked past the Cathedral of Santa Maria and found a square where there were two open air restaurants.

Cathedral of Santa Maria, Tarragona

Tarragona Old Town

We ignored the first and more expensive restaurant and sat down in the smaller one after the lady had assured us that they could cope with a vegetarian.  My mum tasted gaspacho for the first time and liked it which was very good news.  I also had omelette and chips and then Ann, my mum and I all had the ubiquitous flan.  Once again, it was my mum’s first taste and again, she enjoyed it.  James kept topping my glass up throughout the meal, so I had quite a lot of wine and water.  My mum and Ann talked and talked the whole time.  For all I hadn’t seen Ann since before I went to university, she did not seem to have changed much.

Decorated Bollard, Tarragona

Statue end Rambla Nova, Tarragona

We still had nearly two hours before Ann and James had to catch their train, so we slowly wandered around the town and eventually reached La Rambla Nova.  We stopped at the end for another coffee and then made our way down the steps.  I chatted to James and left the other two Ann(e)s to chat and chat.

My timetable said that there was a train at 16.58 but, when we reached the station, we found there was one at 15.53.  Ann and James's train was at 16.08, so it worked out well.  When it was time, we said our goodbyes and went to our platform.  It was very narrow with less clearance around the steps to the subway than we get beyond the yellow lines on UK platforms.  The drop from the platform to the rail below was small, which explained why the step up into the train was so high.

Tarragona Station

A young guy kindly gave his seat up for my mum and I perched on the end.  From there I could see Ann and James waiting on their platform, so we waved.  Eventually they saw us and waved back.  The train was ten minutes late.  We waved at each other again as the train pulled in, until we lost eye contact.

When the train came in, there was a mad crush to get on.  The same guy offered his seat to my mum, but we said thankyou but no as we thought we would get two seats together further in.  Some hope.  Fortunately, the train started to empty at the next station and we managed to get two facing seats.

Tarragona - 20 September 2011 (1)

Tarragona Amphitheatre

Tarragona station was very modern and clean but the ladies was shut.  We walked outside and headed to the right.  The grey haired man reappeared and asked where we were going.  He gave us instructions and showed us a map to explain them.  Tarragona is up a hill and so our walk began with climbing several fights of steps and then going up a steep slope and then yet another flight of steps.  There was a lot of rubbish everywhere and I had to watch where I was treading.  Not nice!  At the top of the steps was the main street – La Rambla Nova – and soon after we found the Hotel Husa Imperial, where we had arranged to meet my mum’s friends Ann and James.

My mum met Ann back in the 1970s at Italian evening classes and they have remained good friends ever since.  Unfortunately, they were reduced to the occasional phone call and email after Ann emigrated to Spain and this was why I had picked Barcelona as a destination for my mum’s birthday present.  Tarragona was agreed as a good place to meet because it was roughly halfway between Barcelona and where Ann and James lived and because of the Roman ruins there.

Tarragona Amphitheatre

We arrived early so went for a coffee.  We were not at all impressed with the service.  The young waiter just kept folding napkins and generally pottered about while his boss served some other people.  After we had waited for ages, his boss finally told him to serve us.  Even then, it was a while before we got our drinks.

Ann said she would be there at 10.30 but it was 10.50 before they arrived.  We thought that they would have come by car, but they had come by train too and then got a taxi up the hill because James couldn't climb.  This meant that we were unable to visit the Roman aqueduct, which is 4 miles out of town, but we were very near to the amphitheatre.

Tarragona Amphitheatre

So, after another coffee, we all walked down to the amphitheatre, which was just below the path we had walked along.  We didn’t go into the site, but could see most of it from the gardens above.  It gave a nice view of the sea, but wasn’t nearly as impressive as El Djem in Tunisia.  Ann said that there used to be lots of columns but they had all disappeared.  So, after looking at as much as possible, we made our way back to the old town.  We walked through the gardens and found a lift in the corner.  A sign said that it was only for disabled and elderly people, but two young girls got in with us, so this was obviously ignored.  At the top, we found ourselves right back at the hotel and proceeded into the Old Town, which was even higher up.

Barcelona - 20 September 2011 (1)

I slept really well but did get up to check the time at 4.00 as I could see a light reflected on the ceiling which came through the curtains.  It would have been a disaster if it had been daylight because it was still quite dark when we pulled the curtains at 7.00.

We left for the station at Passeig de Gracias and arrived well in time for the train.  The return tickets to Tarragona cost €24 in total, which was quite good.  We went through the ticket barrier and I had a moment’s panic because our train did not appear on the screen.  There was no one to help, so we continued and followed the signs to Tarragona.  Once on a platform, we stopped a grey haired man to check and he confirmed that this was the correct platform.  Eventually our train arrived and he looked back to make sure we were getting on.

The train was nearly empty, so we took over four seats.  At first, the train went underground.  Barcelona Sants station reminded me of Sunderland Station, but with more platforms and no diesel trains.

Eventually we broke through into fresh air, but the scenery was not that good with it being the industrial suburbs.  Things improved later when we reached the sea.  The train ran along with the sea to our left and hills to our right.  Ten minutes before we reached Tarragona, we stopped at a station but could not see its name.  Fortunately, I put my trust in the timetable and we stayed on.  Eventually, when we were moving again, we saw the name on a station building and were very glad we hadn't got off.

Barcelona - 19 September 2011 (4)

Once out of the hotel, I decided to turn left for a change.  There were lots of shops, especially shoe shops.  I found a nice pair of boots in one, reduced to €15, but decided not to buy because our suitcase was at the limit for weight.  One very stylish shop only seemed to sell clothes with a significant proportion of orange.  We turned left and passed a vegetarian restaurant.  Unfortunately, it seemed about to close and, having scanned the menu, it didn’t look as if it had anything my mum would have liked as everything seemed to be based on mushrooms and artichokes.  So we wondered on and found a patisserie where we finally had our coffee and some very naughty cakes.

We walked on and soon found ourselves in University Square.  We started to turn back but then took a left fork.  From there, I could see the building currently being restored at the top of the Plaça de Catalunya, so I turned left onto Gran Via Corts Catalanes.

On one corner was a nice tapas bar with seats outside.  We sat down, ordered some orange juice and watched the world go by, passing comments on the more notable people.  Several women must have visited the orange shop we saw earlier as we admired several burnt orange cardigans.  I was amazed by the way that people cycled on the pavements as if it were their right.  It might have been, but it seemed very dangerous in a place where there were so many pedestrians.  This annoys me in York too – it gives us cyclists a bad name.

A young man and woman walked up to the door in front of us with their dog.  They both had tattoos, especially the woman who had them all over her arms and legs and the shaved part of her head was dyed turquoise.  The guy disappeared inside the building and the dog waited for him eagerly.  He was clearly torn between waiting for his master and being with the woman, so he kept going back and forth, looking very alert.  When the guy reappeared, the dog ran to him, skidded on the tiled entrance and went straight between his legs!

We decided to order some patatas bravas instead of having a full meal.  This worked out very well.  Before it started to get dark, we walked back to the hotel, making a small diversion to look at the statues and fountains in the square.  Back in our room, we just chilled after all the walking we had done.  I caught up with my journal and read a lot.

Barcelona - 19 September 2011 (3)

Colon Monument

Columbus

We continued our stroll down Las Ramblas and, in a surprisingly short while, found ourselves by the Colon Monument and watching the cable cars.  Columbus points out to sea, standing on a high column, ornately decorated with statues and lions at the base.  Nearby is another tower, which is where the cable cars pass each other on their way between Montjuic and Barceloneta.  As it heads towards Montjuic, the cable car passes through an interesting hooped sculpture so we waited for the key moment to get a good shot.

Base of Colon Monument

Port House

We walked past the port house and reached a wooden bridge leading to a new port complex.  My mum was not up to walking across, so we just sat on a convenient seat at the start of the bridge.  There were a lot of fish swimming in the corner where the bridge met the land.  We couldn’t miss them as they were about 8” long.  There was obviously some food as they kept skimming the surface with their mouths wide open.  Occasionally one would jump over another and sometimes one would roll onto its side and flash white in the sunshine.

Cable Car Passing Point

Cable Car and Sculpture

A young boy came up and asked for someone to take his photo.  He posed in front of the boats in the marina but got so close to the edge of the bridge that we were worried that he would fall in.  We watched a mauve boat called Ventura start to manoeuvre out of dock.  They spent so long that I thought they were trying to get into another mooring bay, but they were only trying to execute a three-point turn.

Port House

Marina

Feeling rested, we continued on our way and walked along the bottom of the town.  We looked around a pretty square with a statue and lots of men sitting around on the many benches, chilling out in the sun, presumably while their wives were at work or busy at home.  It reminded me of my time in Peru where the men – and volunteers – liked to chill in the town square.  Perhaps I was being unkind and the men were on their extended lunch hour but unable to get home and back before work resumed.  We passed a military establishment which was holding an open day.  The sentry boxes were empty and locked, but there was one soldier standing by the gate.  I didn’t think that the open day was intended for tourists so we walked on until we reached the rather imposing Correos building.

Hungry Fish

Carrer del Bisbe

Turning left at the Correos, we walked up a very uninteresting street.  The narrow passageways to the left looked very old though, so I decided to take a risk and turn left.  We came to a very thick old wall and what seemed to be the remains of a moat.  We had hit the old town.  So we wondered round, looking for a café.  Unfortunately, there only appeared to be shops, especially tourist shops.  We passed Le Seu Cathedral and the Capella of St Lucia and several other old buildings which we intended to visit on Wednesday.  At one point, we found ourselves in the Carrer del Bisbe, which is spanned by an archway so we joined the throng of people taking photos.

Carrer del Bisbe

Not long after, we broke through into the familiar territory of Las Ramblas.  We called into a Carrefour supermarket to get croissants for breakfast and lots of water.  I was supposed to hand my rucksack into security, but I didn’t realise.  No one approached while I was in the store and the rucksack wasn’t checked on the way out either.  I wasn’t that impressed with the supermarket, but it is difficult to find things to buy when you don’t have any kitchen facilities, crockery or utensils – as I had discovered during our many “supermarket” stops in North Africa.  The hotel was nearby, so we popped in to leave our purchases rather than carrying them about.

Barcelona - 19 September 2011 (2)

It was getting warmer now, so we called into the hotel to leave our jackets.  We realised that the narrow corridor leading to the hotel reception was a watch shop.  It seemed to be doing a steady trade, despite some of the watches having huge faces.

Fountains in Placa de Catalunya

Then we set off down Las Ramblas again.  I could hear parrots overhead but couldn’t see any.  There were several painted people acting as moving statues.  The first one was Salvador Dali, with an upturned moustache.  A young girl had her picture taken with him.  He held up a frame so that it looked as if she were his painting.  Another “statue” was in black wearing wings and very long fingernails.  He had a photo taken while holding someone trapped in his wings.  Then there were two people dressed as Ganesh, the Hindu elephant god.  They were sitting suspended in mid-air.  I didn’t stop long enough to work out how they did it, but it did look good.

Fountain in Square & Our Hotel

There were lots of stalls down the central paved section of the street.  They were not all for the tourists by any means as the most eye-catching were the florists and there were also pet shops.  The first pet stall had budgies, lovebirds and canaries, plus chinchillas and some hamsters which were all asleep, crowded into a drinking bowl in the middle of the cage floor.  Another pet shop had the most tiny hamsters and some very small terrapins.

Eventually we reached the bit where there were pavement restaurants.  Before I got to Barcelona, I imagined that Las Ramblas would have many pavement cafés where we could sit with a cup of coffee or a glass of something and watch the world go by.  That would have saved my mum from too much walking.  Unfortunately, things were not as described in the books and there were no cafés, only restaurants where you were expected to eat.

It being lunchtime, we decided to stop at one which had a special offer on paella and tapas combined.  It was too good to be true.  When we got to ordering and it was too late to just walk off because we had been given our drink, he said that there was a choice of paella, but no choice of tapas.  I gritted my teeth and stressed that I was a vegetarian, which also meant no fish.  So they brought out sausage and moules!  When I pointed out that these were not vegetarian, he said that my mum wasn’t a veggie as she had ordered a seafood paella.  After a bit of complaining, he eventually changed them for olives and artichokes, so that wasn’t too bad, although patatas bravas would have been a lot better.  Then came the paellas, which were a huge disappointment.  By the time I had fished out the peppers, I was left with greasy, overcooked rice, a few peas and a single Brussel sprout.  I didn’t eat it all and felt distinctly queasy afterwards.  My mother’s paella was not much better with very little in the way of seafood.  With one ½ litre glass of orange juice, it all came to a massive €34.  BE VERY CAREFUL.  Although I believed European law require prices to be quoted including VAT, this is frequently not the case with restaurants in Barcelona.  We left in disgust, but not before we had loudly warned other diners not to order the paella.

Barcelona - 19 September 2011 (1)

After a leisurely start, we left the hotel after 0900.  The girl at reception had circled University Square on our map, saying that the information office was there and that we would need to get there by underground.  However, all the books and maps we had said that it was in the Plaça de Catalunya.  Looking out of our window, I could see a sign marked “I”, so I decided to check it out first.  When we got there, we saw some steps leading down and they led to the information office!  My mum hadn’t thought much of the girl in reception anyway as she looked like a neighbour of hers who she doesn’t like.  I know that you shouldn’t judge by appearances, but she did look very sulky.

There was a long queue inside the information office, but a guy was going down the queue and asking what people wanted.  When he found out that we wanted information on how to get to Tarragona, he pulled us out of the queue and showed us the station on the map.  He said that he went there quite often.  Most of the queue was for tickets for the hop on hop off bus, which had been strongly recommended.  But I thought it seemed very expensive at €45 each, so we decided not to get them.

Then we went for a late breakfast in a café in the road just off the top of Las Ramblas.  It was a modern café and obviously a chain, but breakfast was reasonable and only cost €6 for the two of us.

Casa Battlo

Casa Amattler

Then we headed off to check out the train for the next morning.  We walked up beside the square to the Passeig Gracia.  The RENFE station was not where it was shown on the map, but three blocks further on.  It was confusing as the first block did have a metro station which was also called the Passeig Gracia and I guess the two metro stations connected underground.  When we did find the access to the RENFE station, I left my mum at the top to save her having to do the stairs and went down alone.  It was quite a long walk underground, but I eventually found the right place.  The lady at the ticket office gave me a timetable but said that we would have to buy the tickets on the day of travel.

Casa Heo Morero

Casa Heo Morero

I came out of the station on the diagonally opposite side of the junction and walked across to find my mother again.  She had seen people taking photos of the houses across the road, so was doing the same.  By pure chance, we had stumbled across one of Barcelona’s landmarks; the Illa de la Discòrdia, renowned for its buildings in the modernist style. These buildings included the Casa Battló by Antoni Gaudí; the Casa Amattler, designed by Josep Puig I Cadafalch next door; and the Casa Heó Morero, designed by Lluis Domenech i Muntaner further down on the corner.

Ornate Lampost

Gaslight near Square

We arrived at the right time as there were no vehicles to block our view of the buildings.  Soon after, we realised why, when a small demonstration walked up the road, escorted by police and the press.  We couldn't work out what they were protesting about, but at least one of the protesters was very enthusiastic.  We walked back down to the square, stopping to take a photo of one of the ornate lampposts we had seen on the way up.

Barcelona - 18 September 2011 (2)

It didn’t take long before we could see our hotel – the Hotel Medium Monegal – in front of us as we walked across the square.  The hotel reception was very small and the counter was cut away to allow access to the lift.  I was much relieved to find that they had a copy of our booking.  Unfortunately, despite already being expensive, there was an extra charge for the room safe.  So I paid the bill in advance, which severely depleted my stock of euros, and we decided to use our money belts throughout the trip.

Placa de Catalunya from Hotel

Our room was a decent size and the bathroom was clean.  We had a small balcony which looked out onto the square, so we took a photo.  At first the traffic ran freely, but soon afterwards, the police closed the road to allow a demonstration.  The airport bus had to turn around, so we were pleased that we had timed our arrival well.

Once we had finished unpacking, we set off to explore.  The hotel could not have been in a better position as it was right at the top of Las Ramblas, the main tourist street.  Our aim was to find somewhere to buy some bottled water, somewhere to have a drink and then a decent restaurant for dinner.  We wandered quite a way, both along Las Ramblas and in side streets, before we found anywhere.  It did not help that it was Sunday evening and many places were shut.  Eventually we found a delicatessen selling bottled water.  We bought two bottles, but soon regretted it when we saw a mini-supermarket just a few doors down which would have been much cheaper.

We found ourselves in the rather splendid Plaça Reial before we found a bar where we could just sit outside and have a drink.  There were long queues outside two of the bars in the square, but we chose one with lots of spare seats, but prompt, efficient service.  My mum had a beer and I had a peach juice.  In the corner of my eye, I kept seeing a mauve light flickering high up against a building.  We later realised that some people were selling these illuminated spiral devices, which you catapult into the air and try to catch when they finally come down.  The light was a salesman demonstrating his wares.

After a leisurely drink, we continued our search for food.  There were lots of tapas bars, but they had few vegetarian options and you had to sit at the bar to get the tapas as the advertised prices.  We left the Plaça Reial by a small north-eastern exit and walked along a road towards the old town.  We were accosted by Evor, a young man who spoke excellent English having lived in Devon.  Despite that, his accent was more American than West Country.  He talked us into going into Sinatras, which was down a side road.

At the door, the girl said that there would be a five minute wait and told us to sit at the bar.  The barman poured us each a complimentary glass of cava while we waited and we both got bar stools to scramble up on when a nice guy moved for me.  Forty-five minutes later, when we had finished the cava, the girl came back and said that in five more minutes, she would have a table for us downstairs where we were sitting.  My mum was pleased as she didn’t have to climb the stairs.  Fifteen minutes later, we finally got our table.

Luckily, it didn’t take nearly so long for us to order our tapas or for them to arrive.  My mum had hoisin duck, which she said was very nice, and we also had patatas bravas, caprese, aubergine parmigiana and fried artichoke hearts.  The artichokes were very disappointing as they mostly tasted of fat which was well past its use-by date.  One had some choke left on it, so I had to dash into the loo to spit it out.  (The loo was very nice and clean, but there was only the one and it was unisex – there were probably more upstairs.)  All the rest of the food was very nice.  We also had a jug of sangria, so my mum was feeling decidedly squidgy by the time we finished it.  With one of their special coffees to finish, the meal came to just under €44, which was not cheap, but we had been warned that Barcelona prices were on a par with those in the UK.  The atmosphere had been good though.  They were showing Guys and Dolls with English subtitles on a large screen.  Luckily we did not have to hear Marlon Brando singing.  We said goodbye to the waitress and to Evor and headed back to our hotel.

The air-conditioning in our room made me feel quite cold and we couldn’t work out how to turn it off.  The downside of the central location and great view of the Plaça was the noise.  At one point someone started shouting very loudly and my mum got out of bed to have a look.  She said that an English guy was accusing a local guy of killing his friend and that more locals were gathering round in a menacing way.  I missed almost all that as I can sleep though nearly anything.  My mum said that the traffic went on all night, but I slept through until 0700.

Barcelona - 18 September 2011 (1)

Despite my concerns, things seemed to go to plan.  The train from Tonbridge was on time and we made the connection at Redhill with no problems.  As usual, we arrived at Gatwick long before the allocated check in time.  There were no queues – and at times no passengers – at the Easyjet counter and, despite the signs to the contrary, the Easyjet staff were happy to check us in.  To my huge relief, there was no problem with our bookings and our suitcase weighed exactly 20kg – the maximum permitted – so we were soon walking away with our boarding cards.

We picked the wrong queue for the security scan.  We were behind a large party of Indians, who all set off the alarm.  They had to call an extra female security guard to frisk the women.  As we waited, the security guard with the trays said that it was because they couldn’t take off their bracelets, which were put on when they were young.  When it was eventually our turn, we walked through with no alarms.

Despite the hold up, there was still a long wait before our flight, so we had lunch, bought some duty free and found a row of empty seats facing an information screen.  My mum noticed a Boots bag under the seat at the end of the row.  Inevitably, we asked ourselves whether it was left accidentally or whether there was something more sinister inside.  We suspected the former, so did nothing.  The cleaners came by and ignored it completely, so my mum took a look – it contained bottles of flavoured water.

Twenty minutes before the gate was due to open, the screen told us to proceed to gate 102.  Our walk there was quite interesting and included taking a very high up escalator, waking over the taxiway and then taking a steep down escalator down to the gates.

As we went through into the gate, an Italian girl was desperately trying to prove that her hand luggage was small enough to fit into the measuring guide.  The check in guy was not to be persuaded and insisted that she had to check it in.  With Easyjet charging for checked in luggage, it was not surprising that people were pushing the boundaries with the size of their hand luggage, much of which resembled suitcases.

We found a seat and were happy to see our case being loaded onto the plane.  Then there came a garbled announcement about speedy boarding and children under five, which provoked a rush.  Everyone stood up and started queuing to get on the plane.  I thought that boarding would be in waves like the last time I flew Easyjet and that we would be called early as we were checked in third and fourth.  No such luck, though they did hold back the people who arrived at the gate after the announcement.

Boarding was a slow process, probably because people found it difficult to get their large pieces of hand luggage in the overhead lockers.  After a false start, we found two seats near the back of the plane.

We didn’t talk to our neighbour until we were approaching the Pyrenees.  He was called Graham, lived in Cornwall and was a regular visitor to Barcelona.  We met up with him again as we were looking for the best exit from the terminal to catch the airport bus.  He took over as guide and led the way, although a sign pointing to the bus gave us a clue.  The stop included a machine to buy the ticket.  Graham started to use it, but stopped when it gave him no choice but to put in a credit card.  No one was able to use it after that.  Luckily we were able to pay on the bus - €5.30 each.  Graham pointed out terminal C as we drove past.  This is the stop for the Easyjet check in, which was useful to know for the return journey.

The drive into town was pleasant and quick.  Before we hit town, we saw a flock of cattle egrets enjoying a marshy patch of land.  The bus terminated at Plaça de Catalunya, where we said our goodbyes and got off.

Barcelona - Intro

First a word of warning:

IF PLANNING TO GO TO SPAIN, CHECK FIRST FOR FIESTAS

The first time I planned an independent travel holiday to Spain, I found myself in the middle of a big fiesta in Grenada, making it difficult to find a room, get into a restaurant or even just to force my way through the crowds of young people, determined to sink more drinks than the average off duty train crew.

I made the same mistake on planning my mum’s birthday trip to Barcelona.  After booking the flights and the hotel, I discovered that the last two days of the trip coincided with La Mercé holiday in Barcelona.  It would have been so much cheaper to have travelled the week before – each of the last two days hotel charges exceeded the charge for the first three days in total.

Next time, I will do all my research and if anyone knows a website which lists all the Spanish Fiestas, their dates and the cities affected, please let me know.
 

As well as kicking myself for not doing all my research before booking the trip, I felt decidedly uneasy in the days before setting off.  I had booked the flight and hotel on the internet and there is always the worry that someone would say that they had no record of a booking.  I still much prefer the old-fashioned method of talking to a real person.  I had gone back into the site in August to check that they had our passport details as required and was stunned to see that my mum and I were both in the system as being male.  I cannot believe that I had entered that information and worried that it might it might revert back to male after I changed it and logged out, making our flights invalid.  I don’t think I had ever worried more about a holiday.