Hola amigos, que tal?
I am back.
After a 120 kilometers marathon (I kept track) and with my camera bursting with1500 snapshots, I am back to my old stomping grounds.
On my unpaid sabbatical I went to Barcelona (Spain that is), a hilly city that requires some exertion.
If you take your car to go to the grocery store around the corner, this city might be a little challenging for you. It was for me and my calves are still sore, but on the plus side I lost at least six pounds.
Tourism you should know is not for the faint-hearted. It requires some stamina and mainly that outmoded thing that Americans used to do before Henry Ford sweet-talked them into using his confounded jalopy instead.
Nowadays I am a little weary of big cities but I couldn’t help falling head over heels for that marvelous urban municipality.
It has everything that American cities don’t have, namely green oases with various watering spots where the local population congregates and perorates late into the night.
Do we have anything close to that in Marin County or even San Francisco?
A sorry emphatic NO!
In America, we have lost our ways. As the French would say now it is mainly “metro, boulot, dodo” (subway/highway, work, sleep).
The Barcelonians also have a subway, but they spent most of their time in outdoor cafes.
If I would be running for president, I would skip the usual demagogic rubbish and promise a local plaza (with a least three Tapas spots) for every neighborhood. I would win the nomination hands down.
Back to subway… Most or all the stations in Barcelona have escalators, and elevators for handicapped people to boot. The subway also allows dogs, cumbersome baby carriages and bicycles. As a matter of fact, I have no idea what you cannot take into the Barcelona subway.
The curse of tourism is tourists. And Barcelona has millions of them. I think that the tourists outnumber the locals by at least 2 to 1.
Tourists, especially guided groups are the bane of vacationers. There are large, slow, mindless.
A good tourist is a childless (leave the brats at home), low-key, mute individual. He does not talk, doesn’t stop where he shouldn’t and speaks only when spoken to. And he absolutely should avoid carrying a selfie-stick.
I trekked of course, to all the holy sites: La Familia Sagrada (ugly outside, breathtaking inside), the Casa Battlo, the Mercato de La Boqueria, La Barceloneta, but my favorite spot was the Gothic Quarter where you can stroll leisurely through its narrow streets for hours.
What makes Barcelona so endearing is its human quality. It is a city made by people for people. It is also always in a festive mood. Drums and music can erupt anytime. Old, young, dogs mingle seamlessly.
When you sit in a cerveceria, nobody rushes you. You can sit for hours with a single beer or a small tapa without anybody hassling you.
Every American should go to at least once to Barcelona. They would learn to enjoy life instead of bearing with it.
Hasta luego chums!
Alain
PS: To look at photos of this event and listen to the accompanying background music, turn your computer’s sound on, and click on the link “My Photos” located on the right side of this page. For best viewing, go Full Screen.