Barcelona, Day 2

Sagrada Familia, which my Uncle Tom tells me is a prime example of the architectural style of "melting sandcastle."

June 6, 2009

We decided to try the breakfast at the hotel today. Now, we are staying at this hotel by virtue of points from my Visa Signature card. It’s a very nice hotel and we probably should have known that the restaurant would be pricey. Luckily we had no idea during breakfast what the bill held in store for us, so I enjoyed the hearty breakfast immensely. Tomatoes baked with cheese, tortillas (omelettes), jamon serrano. Then we got the check for 50 euros, which with the current exchange rate, I approximate is about one semester of law school tuition.

Tummies full and wallet a little lighter, we headed out to our self-guided tour of Gaudi’s Barcelona. We started off at a church by his teacher. Then we made our way over to Barcelona’s crown jewel, the Sagrada Familia. When we first got there, we couldn’t find the entrance and wound up in the parishoners-only perpetual adoration room. Oops! I pretended to be sorry but secretly I was happy I got to see it. After circling the rest of the ginormous building, we got our tickets and went into the main cathedral. Despite all the scaffolding and construction equipment, it was amazing. The style, or blend of styles, is so unique and walking through the work in progress, you really feel like you’re seeing history being made.

Next up we made our way to Casa de les Punxes, a cool red brick turreted building. Then we saw Casa Mila, with its famous abstract wrought-iron balconies. Finally we hit Casa Battlo which we thought looked like it belonged in Atlantis.

One Spanish tradition Dean embraces fully is the siesta. He took a nap in the hotel room while I lay out by the bright-blue tiled pool on a padded chaise lounge overlooking the ocean. I didn’t expect to see palm trees in Barcelona, but sure enough, the beach is lined with them. It was a beautiful, relaxing afternoon.

After we got ourselves re-situated, we headed back out. We followed strains of music until we wound up at a street fair. There was a band, lots of people, many different crafts, and my personal favorite, food. While I try to stumble along with my limited Spanish (not even technically spoken here), Dean’s method of transacting is pointing at what he wants and then thrusting euros at people. I have to admit it is effective, as he bought us a bite of heaven in the form of puffy pastry filled with gooey chocolate to enjoy as we strolled up and down the tents looking at all the wares.

Then we made our way down to the beach by way of a park so I could dip my toes in the Mediterranean. As we walked along the dark sand arm in arm, we saw children playing soccer and men setting up their fishing lines. I think it was our first sunset walk on a beach, and it was gorgeous. Nothing like Spain to make you feel terribly romantic. We sat down to eat at one of the restaurants right on the shoreline and had a wonderful seafood dinner that was so fresh it almost swam off our plates, and of course, more wine. As far as I’m concerned, Barcelona rocks.