A PERFECT DAY IN BARCELONA

Deb and I had decided that on this trip we would do our best to avoid running around crazy trying to do and see everything.  On our first day in Barcelona  we managed to do just that.

As we lug our bags up the steps of the  the metro, we leave the cool darkened underground  behind.  We blink in the mid-day  sun plunging into the hustle and swirl of La Rambla, the main pedestrian artery of  Barcelona.  Googlemaps chirps from  my phone, “You have arrived at your destination”.  For once, Googlemaps is right...I look up a side street to see Rene waving at us from a second floor wrought iron balcony.   

We climb the stairs to a modern three bedroom flat which is to be our home for the next five days. We drop our bags and relax for a few minutes before hunger drives us out the door in search of a late lunch.  We wander through  narrow lanes of dark stone in search of a place not just to eat, but to dine; hopefully in the grand style of the Catalunyans.  Our path is through El Gotic, the old city of Barcelona. Tourist shops with t-shirts flapping in the breeze are intermingled with stout, elaborately  carved wooden doorways. Small balconies  bracketed with light sconces protrude over our heads.  Limestone, polished by millions of footsteps over hundreds of years is luminous in the late afternoon light. 

After several twists, turns and false starts, we spy an elevated terrace shaded by large deciduous trees.  Following the signs around the building we find the entrance and a maître d who guides us up to a terrace above the Placa Nova.  We peruse the menu.  The prices shock us after two weeks in Portugal but we put it in perspective…it is still much cheaper than California and to be frank, at this point we really don’t care because we are sitting on a terrace on a perfect 70 degree day, we are starving, we are in one of my favorite cities in the world, and  we have come half way around the world to meet up with Mike and Rene (Deb’s brother and his girlfriend) for what is to be a great reunion.  We have not seen them for several months and we have a lot of catching up to do.  In short, life right here, right now, is absolutely perfect. 

   

Thirsty and starving we order what seems like half the menu along with a bottle of Cava to celebrate, and several beers to quench our thirst. Over the next few hours we dine in traditional Catalunyan style tasting course after course of vegetables, meat, seafood and paella.   Feeling like  fat lizards on a hot rock in the midday sun, we order espresso to gain some semblance of coherence and stagger out into the street.


 

Disoriented and somewhat inebriated, we wander off into the narrow back streets of the quarter hoping to find our way back to the apartment.  As is often the case at times like these, we stumble (did I mention the streets were uneven cobblestones?) upon the city cathedral. We gaze at the  soaring spires of the high-gothic architecture of the church. Lacy stone buttresses, brackets and accents that seem to defy physics and gravity tower above our heads. (Oh, the power of faith and engineering) After the obligatory photos we find our way back to our apartment for a much needed siesta.  (I said we were working on our Catalunyan style) 

 

Los tres amigos

Hangin' with Betty

We wake up logy from the travel, the food and the wine. After stumbling around the apartment for awhile, I look at the clock; 10:30 PM.  After a bit of fuzzy deliberation, we decide to hit the streets for a walk before  going back to bed.  I suggest that we take a walk down La Rambla, toward the harbor to bid the statue of Christopher Columbus a good night.  When we get there he is already in the dark, and gone to bed.  (They turn off his lights at midnight).





 So we retrace our steps back up La Rambla.   Rene announces she is a bit hungry and we all agree we could use a snack (even though after our prolonged lunch we all had agreed we would not eat again).   We step off the Rambla down a narrow side street. It is after midnight and it soon becomes apparent we are late for dinner even by Catalunian standards.  Most of the restaurants are closed or closing.  Almost in despair, we are about to turn back to the  the Rambla which never seems to sleep, when Mike spots a large market umbrella down an alley.  We walk quickly down the narrow lane which opens out into the Placa Real to find a fairyland of sidewalk cafes huddled under giant market umbrellas lit with twinkle lights and vibrating with people.  (It is an Alice through the rabbit hole experience).  In the center of the grand square street lights, designed by Antonio Gaudi, throw pools of light on the cobbled square. 




We cruise by a few restaurants and find a menu that appeals to us and we settle into chairs at the edge of the square for a midnight nosh.  Fried anchovies, crisp green salads and gazpacho washed down by fresh white wine provide a light and traditional Catalunyan repast that seems appropriate for the late hour.

We walk back through through quiet streets through  balmy night air to find our apartment and fall into our soft beds to sleep and perhaps to dream of our perfect day in Barcelona.