Hopping On But Not Off

C

Placa Catalunya.  This building looks normal.  The tree blocks the real story

Lorraine waits to hop on

"Bumble bee" taxis all over town.

I went to sleep on Tuesday evening firmly resolved to get up early and go exploring my temporary neighborhood in the cool of the day.  A late sleep put an end to that pipe dream!  I was out on the terrace for a 9:00 A.M. breakfast--fruit, juice, really not very good coffee, and pastries, ham, cheese, and yogurt.  it was ust enough to get the day started.  Mornings in Barcelona start late. 

La Rambla--pedestrian and busiest street in Barcelona

Some other Americans were staying at the same B & B.  One man came over and offered to sell us tickets to Casa Batllo, the Gaudi designed house. He'd inadvertently bought duplicates.    He is a designer and he and his wife love love love Gaudi and were most enthusiastic that we see this house. We thought, Why not, and coughed up 25 Euros a piece for our timed visit the next day.  The fact of the matter is that visits to unfamiliar places and venues are most often improved by a tour, whether it's a living breathing guide, or a set of headphones and a mini tablet.  It so helps to know what you're looking at.  Guided tours don't come cheaply, so choose wisely.  In this case, I think we made the very best choice.

Spire of the Cathedral

After breakfast and that one last bathroom visit before heading out for the day, Lorraine and I made our way to Placa Catalunya to get on one of the hop on-hop off open air tour buses.  I have, in the past, looked down my nose at these things, dismissing them as "touristy."  By golly, I would do my OWN tour.  But the thing is, unless you have done a great deal of advance research and planning, these tours are the best way to get a feel for a new city.  Neither Lorraine nor I had done nearly enough research into this trip, truth be told.  We planned to take the "Red" tour, which covered the western part of the city, but ended up in the wrong line, and made a spur of the moment decision to take the "Green" tour instead.  It's a little longer and covers the south and eastern parts of the city.  We had bought two consecutive days worth of tickets, so it really didn't matter whether we red-ed or green-ed.   Green it was.  

We passed the old cathedral on our way down one of the major boulevards headed to the port.  I plan to learn at the very least, the names of the major arteries of Barcelona.  It will make finding landmarks easier.  Soon enough we were at the port, and among high-rise, ritzy beachfront apartments.  It was then, as the guide rattled off the names of the designing architects, that I got my first inkling of just how important architects and modern buildings are to Barcelones.  My lack of knowledge is appalling, especially in the area of architecture.  (Yet another thing to remedy)  

From the port looking north

Doesn't it look precarious?

We went into the port, where millions of dollars in yachts are moored or in dry dock.  All of that money made me a little uncomfortable, especially when we went through the fishermen's neighborhood of very modest dwellings.  The beaches were clean and not overly busy this early in the season, although there were a few sunbathers and swimmers.  I understand that this area is very lively at night and I can well believe it.  My next trip there will include a seafood dinner seaside.  

We are at the beach!!

 

And there's always that ONE guy--the one who thinks the request to remain seated applies only to everyone else on the bus.  I kept telling myself that I should stop bitching; I was in Barcelona, for heaven's sake, and so what if he kept blocking the view.  I could always come back any time I wished, and it was apparent that HE didn't have that opportunity.  Fortunately he and his partner got off at Sagrada Familia, and the rest of us didn't have to contend with his big old frame blocking our sight lines.  

One building in particular was quite impressive.  It looks like a big bullet or cucumber standing on end.  At night there are light shows and this becomes multicolored  It's rapidly becoming another icon representing the city of Barcelona. 

Looming over the neighborhood

Kind of like a spaceship

Full of windows

Energy efficient?

Sagrada Familia through the trees

Ah, yes, Sagrada Familia.  Everyone, but everyone is SUPPOSED to go see this Gaudi masterpiece, and everyone is supposed to LOVE it.  I don't know if it is my natural disinclination to follow the herd (I promise you that if everyone is turning left, I most likely am going to turn right) or if I really don't like this monstrosity.  I can say that I understand the importance of it, but aesthetically, I am not buying it.  I told Lorraine that I didn't really want to go in, but we were able to get some good photos of the exterior from the bus.  It was simply over-run with tourists.  

Part of the exterior

Work is still in progress

Some of the facade

"Bones"  Tree trunks? for buttresses? 

Speaking of lines of tourists--nowadays, everyone goes on the Internet to buy tickets to these venues, because they want to "jump the line."  Well, if everyone already has a ticket to get in, there's still a line, isn't there?  And these tickets are not cheap--it's 15 Euros just to get in the door.  That does not include any sort of tour, which I need to do if I am going to learn anything.  For me the great advantage of having the ticket in hand is that it commits your time.  And that is also the great disadvantage, as it prevents impromptu trips that might interfere with your schedule day/time of visit.

Bartholomew?

I swear this reminded me of Lincoln

The bottom line is that we saw Sagrada Familia but did not go in.  Lorraine put it beautifully when she said that much of Gaudi's work reminded her of the landscape in movies like Lord of the Rings.  I find that kind of landscape/architecture slightly creepy.  And she also hit the nail on the head when she said that it looked like a big sand castle!!!   The drippy kind, not the sculpted kind.  I don't know, perhaps I will relent and visit it one day, maybe in the winter when lines won't be so long and I won't get jostled so by hordes of tourists. 

The towers

Help me, I don't know what this represents

Startlingly classical figure holding a rake?

Jesus carries the cross

The bus then wound its way through some more tunnels as we inched higher and higher.  Again, I didn't realize Barcelona was so tiered, and downright steep in some places.  We stopped at a building referred to as the Rotunda, near the place where the funicular takes people up to the top of Mount Tibidabo.   That ride too, have to wait until a later visit.  But I was fascinated by this building and the use of broken pieces of ceramics on the exterior.  In fact, this decorative style is everywhere, inside and out, and the shiny nature of the ceramics makes many of the building shine.  In fact there is a building-sized fish sculpture along Barcelona Beach that glows golden, which we got to see from the bus, but I was never at the right angle for a photo.  

The ROTUNDA 

Can you imagine this as your home?

Not paint--ceramic tile pieces

I will never again complain about French ornate-ness

One little angel outside the door

The tile gleams in the sunlight

We ended our trip back at Placa Catalunya, just a little after noon.  After all that sitting, it was time to stretch our legs on La Rambla (which I kept calling La Plancha--oh dear!)  So we set off down the busiest street in Barcelona and then veered off into the old quarter.

Barcelona Interlude

Never in my wildest imaginings could I have pictured myself saying, "Oh, I just hopped on a train and spent a few days in Barcelona.":  I am from Creagerstown, and grew up in a house with no indoor plumbing.  Barcelona may as well have been on the other side of the solar system.

Early impressions of Barcelona architecture

But life happened and  I did just that, last week with my friend Lorraine, who'd been in France with family members on a wine cruise in the Bordeaux region of France.  She then took the train here, to Carcassonne, and we spent several quiet days catching up, doing laundry, going to market.  She'd planned her departure from Barcelona to return back to the States.  We'd take a few days and explore the city so many people rave about.

B & B room--quiet, comfortable, with air conditioning

The TVG from Carcassoit'nne to Barcelona Sants takes about two and a half hours.  The ride is smooth, quiet, visually interesting.  The train is comfortable, the bathrooms are bigger than any found on an airplane, and there is food service!  I was able to get some writing done, at least as far as Perpignan.  I had been on this stretch of track before, but from Perpignan south, it was all new scenery to me.  Away went the writing and I fixed my gaze out the window. 

writing afternoon with bougainvillaea

I didn't realize that we'd have to traverse mountains.  You can see the snow-covered summits of the eastern Pyrenees from the train as you approach Perpignan from Narbonne, but apparently we have to negotiate their foothills.  There were numerous tunnels and after coming out of one particularly long one, the countryside was noticeably different--there were more pine trees and fewer vineyards.

Of course, as in most major train stations of the world, the tracks enter the city and then head below ground.  Lorraine and I had our directions to the B & B; we were going to take the Metro rather than a taxi.  Maybe in retrospect, we should have sprung for the cab, because Lorraine was doing battle with two suitcases, and that's not easy in train stations.  There are flights and flights of steps to navigate.  Fortunately Barcelona had plenty of escalators and most of them seemed to be working.  Trust me, that's not always the case elsewhere.  

Adjusting to daylight after time in the Metro--underground

Terrace at the B & B

After a couple of false starts, we finally made our way  down into the Metro--figured out the ticket machine, got our little tickets, made it through the turnstile even luggage-ed -- and then successfully found our track.  Of course, we just missed the departing train, but there wasn't a long wait, something like four minutes, until the next one.  We boarded, but it was too crowded to get a seat right away.  Fortunately, a chivalrous middle-aged man offered me his seat, and I gratefully accepted.  It is interesting to note that no longer do young people give up their seats to older travelers.  They've never been taught it, I guess and if they have, they are too engrossed in their phones, constantly looking down, to pay any attention to what's going on around them.

Lush green cool oasis

We found our stop, at Placa Catalunya, and exited the Metro.....we were getting closer to our B & B, but hunger was also starting to set in.  I found that we were severely hampered by not having a good map of Barcelona.  We emerged at La Rambla, and walked down it a way, thinking we were headed in the right direction.  In actuality, we were heading south when we should have been heading east.  But we didn't get all THAT far before realizing our mistake.  Lorraine bought a street map, which sadly, didn't have the names of the streets.....but we were able to get ourselves righted and headed in the correct direction.

It's interesting, isn't it, how when you don't know exactly where you are going, the distance always seems endless.  Once you get familiar with the lay of the land, the exact same 4 block walk that on first doing feels never-ending, actually takes only 5 minutes?  The bottom line is that we did indeed find the B & B, but not without one final glitch.  In what other city are Number 11  and Number 13 not in the same city block? 

The other issue for me was that I was expecting a street level sign, as a hotel would have.  The B & B is in a residence, and so the only clue to its existence is the name printed next to the buzzer.  We did get in, and not one minute too soon, as Lorraine was being bested by those two suitcases!!!  Fortunately there was an elevator to the second floor, where we were greeted by the proprietress and welcomed into a shaded, calm oasis.

Re-energized exploring after lunch

We completed our check-in, got our keys, and headed out for some long-overdue lunch.  Mealtimes in Barcelona are later than they are in France, and stores and businesses don't shut down, as they do here in Carcassonne. Breakfast at the B & B did not appear until 9, and I learned from an early morning walk that most of the breakfast places don't open until 9, either. Whatever are larks to do?  (Not that I claim to be one)  Lunch is still available at 3, and as for dinner, we were warned not to even try to eat before 9 in the evening!!!   We found a little place nearby and tucked in to lunch, after which we set out to explore a little of the immediate neighborhood.  Our B & B was perfectly located--withing walking distance of La Rambla, and Placa Catalunya, and there's a Metro stop maybe 10 meters from the front door.  I feel perfectly confident in my ability to use it, language differences not withstanding.

The late afternoon was spent relaxing on the lovely tiled terrance, cool, shaded and full of plants. We were saving our energies for the sightseeing in the days to come.  

Gambetta by Night

Looking at the Museum

Roses against the deepening blue

One of the singular pleasures of living here is going out to one of the parks at the end of a warm day, when evening is gaining ascendancy.  The blue of the sky deepens, the air loses some of its heat as the sun sets, and a calm settles over the town.  Carcassonne can in no way be described as a "night-life" town.  Many old-line Bastide restaurants, hopping busy during the day, do not serve dinner.  My favorite bar, the 98, where the Irish musicians gather to play, has taken to closing by 9:00.  Perhaps the most telling sign of all is that the Bastide's only sex shop is open only from 1 in the afternoon until 7 in the evening!!! No late-night fantasies or loitering here.

Roses at dusk

Play of light and water

 And all of this is fine with me.  I have never been much for going out late at night, and that tendency to stay in after dark just gets more ingrained with each passing year.  Years and years of having to be up early for work, or avoiding smoky clubs on Saturday nights because I had to sing on Sunday morning deeply shaped my current habits.

Looking east

However, I had recently had the occasion to go out as it was getting dark, to show one of my guests the lights of La Cite at night from one of the bridges across the Aude.  I neglected to take my camera, and kicked myself repeatedly as we walked though Gambetta, and watched the water and lights of the fountains.

Pink roses and jasmine climb

Can't you hear the water

When I first visited Carcassonne, in the fall/winter of 2013, Gambetta was a flat, concrete-tiled plaza, with little to attract guests.  There were some platane trees along both long borders, but basically Gambetta's charm was that it covered underground parking.  The Saturday "Arab" market was held there, and that was nice, because there was plenty of room for the vendors and the buyers to spread out.  At Christmas, the plaza was transformed: the platane trees sported loops of swoopy blue lights, the "white" Christmas tree dominated the square.  There were rows of little wooden Christmas market huts whose vendors offered hot wine, local foods and delicacies.  There was an enormous carousel and Ferris wheel, both ablaze with lights.  For about a month, Gambetta was THE place to be, especially in the evenings. 

One of the bronzes that are found throughout the park

Interesting shapes

Then in 2015, it became the focus of Mayor Larrat's renewal project.  The city planted rows and rows of roses, trellises for them and the jasmine plants to climb, permanent seating, a lighted fountain, a permanent carousel and playground for the children and arranged for a kiosk that offers refreshments and snacks to the public.  Gambetta is a busy place now, but because of its size, it never feels crowded.  I miss the Christmas market there, but I love what it has become.

Looking toward the Art Museum

Art Museum facade detail

So, I dragged another visitor to see Gambetta  by night, only this time I had my camera in hand.  We had ever so much fun trying to capture just the right photo, all the while enjoying the early night ambience of the sweet, jasmine and rose scented air, the gurgle of the water and the dying down of the traffic.  Carcassonne was settling down for the night.  We had to hurry, though--the fountain gets turned off at 10:00.

The water is quiet for the rest of the night

Sharing My City

Beautiful countryside

I have had a number of guests recently and it has allowed me to share my city with my friends.  I tend to become quite defensive about Carcassonne; it's okay not to like it, but don't tell me that.  Better yet, lie to me--just a little white lie and tell me that you did like it.  It doesn't seem like much to ask. 

The guard keeps out the enemy

Take a moment to enjoy the blue sky

Most of the time that's not a hard thing to do, as Carcassonne weaves her spell over most visitors.  If one comes here hoping to get a taste of what life is like, and not looking for splashy tourist venues, the trip will be successful.  As we march on into spring, the list of events to attend becomes almost overwhelming and I find that we have to choose--it's not possible to do everything on any given Saturday or Sunday. 

Recent costumed demonstration at Chateau Comtal

This room always moves me--all the abandoned crosses

There's a walk along the Aude, stopping in at La Paicherou for a drink, or making it the destination, dressed in a flouncy skirt and dancing shoes.  PluggD has live music, from contemporary jazz to Cuban music to enjoy while having a light supper of tapas.  The tour of Chateau Comtal is worth every nickel of the entrance fee.  How about a lazy boat ride on the Canal du Midi, provided of course that the weather is warm enough?

Pleasures of the Saturday market

Or one of the local eateries

The 1st of May was a holiday here, as it is in most of the world.  I managed to get myself to a political rally.  I am very interested in the political points of view that are different from mine--I am not saying I am in the market for a change in outlook, but I find talking to others about how they see society functioning is pretty interesting.  

What's around the next bend of the Canal du Midi

Beloved platane trees line the canal and help hold up the banks with their roots

I love it that there are items of whimsey in the paper about my Carcassonne---like the fact that the mayor has gotten a sheepherder to bring his flock in to clean up the banks of the Aude.  A win for the city, a win for the farmer, a win for the goats.  If only all our issues could be thus resolved. 

Treasures galore at the Saturday "Arab" market

May 1st Demonstration--Workers of the World UNITE!!!

 

Necessities

Necessities from the market this morning

I have had company for some weeks, and wasn't able to find the time to write as I should have been doing.  Sue left yesterday, and I don't envy her that grueling trip across not just the Atlantic, but the continental US as well--hours and hours in an airplane, unable to sleep, cramped, overheated or too cold.  I remember when air travel was fun--an adventure.  We dressed up, not down.  We were on our best behavior, not whiny and cranky.  I am not sure exactly when it all changed, and what brought about such a demise in journeying manners. but now, it's just an ordeal to get through. 

The first purchases of the day

After so many guests in the past two months, it feels a bit odd to be going to the Saturday market alone, and planning and shopping for only myself.  I went out this morning for what I consider necessities--fruits, asparagus and fresh flowers.  Everything else is incidental--even the meat.  

I want to get as much asparagus into myself as possible while it is in season. The green and the white stalks will be gone soon enough, one of the realities of eating seasonally.   This spring the asparagus has been especially flavorful, and now the prices have fallen enough so that asparagus soup is inexpensive.  

Red tulips in my grandmother's vase

The oranges have also been sweet and full of juice.  Alas, the clementines weren't as good this winter as the year before and they have all but disappeared from the vendors' stalls.  But fear not, the first cherries of the season are arriving as is the first watermelon.  I bought some cherries at the Collioure market on Wednesday, and while they were not cheap, they were fully ripe and sweet and worth every centime.  I bought some today at our market, and they're half gone already.  (My lunchtime dessert)  

But my real necessity was fresh flowers.  I scored a bouquet of freesia and for only 3 49,  a bunch of 16 red tulips.  I couldn't walk away.  I think the need for flowers around us is a basic human urge.  Everywhere I look, people have planted flowers in their living spaces.  I see window boxes filled with geraniums, or petunias.  Jars and pots hold flowering shrubs--we need greenery and color and scent in our environments.  

Yes, we need bread (and I bought a little baguette) but we need roses, too.

Freesia with last week's two remaining peonies