Gaudi Afternoon (still haven't seen a morning)

Beautiful, isn't it?

Last night we went to La Ravalle for some Catalonian cuisine. I had a watermelon and cava soup, followed by pork with bananas and, um, ham. Delicious, although the same really couldn't be said for the house red. Dinner around here, by the way, doesn't start until after 9 pm. After dinner we met up with some Americans and Brits for deep philosophical discussions of language, music, and culture. Good times.

And when that broke up Ian and I, along with the few remaining drinkers (UK represent!), went back to the Plaza Real for more drinking and conversation. Bars seem to kinda sorta close around 3 here, and after we were shown the door our new friends went home, so Ian and I bought some more street beer (by the way, those of you paying attention may well wonder how a guy standing on the street illegally selling cans of beer manages to keep them so cold. I know I did. But this Scot tells me she's seen them pull a sixer out of the drain, as in the sewer, and that's how they do it. Go ahead and guess if that knowledge has stopped me from drinking it.), fought our way through the prostitutes, and finally made it back to the flat to debate moral relativism. (Which is the nice way to say it. My sponsors have been expressing difficulties with the candor of my work. But rest assured, dear reader, I would never sacrifice my journalistic integrity for someone else's reputation. Now mine, on the other hand...)

I'm starting to come to the realization that Barcelona is really a destination kind of town, with Europeans from all over headed down every weekend of the summer for sun and fun. Which is cool, but it just doesn't have the same quiet calm of the Whit Stillman movie of the same name. I guess because of the Olympics.

So today I leaped out of bed at the crack of 2, hopped in the cold shower (Ah, Europe!) and we headed out to see the masterpiece.



It really is quite remarkable. La Sagrada Familia was designed by Gaudi and he spent a good forty years working on it. When he died in 1926, they were still working on it. Evidently, they've been working on it ever since, and continue to be finishing it, planning (hoping) to be done by 2026, though as Gaudi once joked, "My client is not in a hurry." We didn't go inside because of all the construction, but check out these hyperboloids!



Like living sinews, aren't they?

Anyways, no picture I could take is going to do it justice, you just have to experience it for yourself. What struck me was how I could look away and look back over and over again and still see something new each time. The detail is just incredible, and I was really into his human forms. Go see it. It's worth it.



Ian, in one of Barcelona's many sidewalk cafes, no doubt enjoying my witty repartee as much as his atún salad.

After brinner, Ian had some work to do so I headed north to check out Parc Güell, the public park designed by...class? That's right, Antonin Gaudi! Gold stars all around. It's all windy walking trails and breathtaking vistas, although the weather could have been better.



Hey, what's that crazy building in the middle there?

So I got a little lost wandering around the park, but eventually I followed the crowds and found the Gaudi house, where he had lived and is now a museum. I didn't go in, but the place is littered with his sculptures and designs.



Walking around the grounds I caught these two old Spaniards discussing the construction of this viaduct.



Nice place!


The porter's cottage of the house, and in fact many of the fountains and rooftops in Gaudi's work, use this technique of broken ceramic mosaics, called trencadís.



Here's another example on the salamander fountain, one of BCN's adopted symbols.



It's pretty cool, check out the tiles around this window:



And in detail:



Anyways, enough gaudiness, no? Time for tapas!



This place is called La Vasa de Oro, and it's wonderful. Tiny yet filling plates of all kinds of goodies, tall beers and a staff that whips around behind the bar, cooking and slicing and yelling at each other...Fantastico!



And some of them wear epaulets, for some reason. Maybe tapa chef is a rank in the Spanish Army.

Now we're back home, making it an early night (it's only one!) as we have big plans for tomorrow (Mont-Juic, funiculae, Miró, beaches, barbecue) and it will be our last full day here.



Is this some/thing?