Barcelona - a Real Treasure

         

Strolling along Las Ramblas

View from the Joan Miro Museum

          I never realized Barcelona is one of the most beloved cities in the world, until I went there this spring.  When I began telling friends about our walking trip in Catalonia followed by a week in Barcelona most people did not react to the walking part while easily exclaiming, “Barcelona,… my favorite city!”  Really?  I wondered why years ago when I travelled to Spain several times I had never gone to the Mediterranean coast and Barcelona. Even my brothers, who are not frequent world travelers any longer had each called me up to talk about the wonders of Barcelona…one focusing on the art museums we must not miss including Picasso, Miró, Tapies and Dali, while the other raved about the “awesome” architecture and churches.

            In 1970, I went to Aranjuez, famous for being the summer retreat for the kings and queens of Spain, just south of Madrid.  It was my second year as a Group Leader with The Experiment in International Living, an exchange program with a home stay.  It was a perfect job for me as I understood and spoke the language easily and was responsible for a group of 10 college students on a “summer abroad” program. We lived with Spanish families for a month and then traveled as a group with a brother or sister from our families throughout northern Spain.   In contrast, the previous summer of 1969, the EIL had assigned me to Bergen, Norway in charge of a lively group of high school students.  In those days, few Norwegians spoke English including those in the family I lived with.  Hiking and being out in nature, as Norwegians love to do, were not activities American teenagers were expecting. Where were the malls, the movies, and friends? Some had a tough time adjusting and at my young age, I had difficulty managing it all as well as the language.

            The summer after Aranjuez, I went back to Spain with my girlfriends, Jill and Mary.  Being independent travelers in our mid-twenties we three spoke Spanish fluently.  We planned our own trip south of Madrid to include the “must see” towns and cities of Toledo. Granada,  Cordoba, Sevilla, Ronda, and Marbella.  Now I wonder why we didn’t include Barcelona and Catalonia.  How could we have missed it?  It has taken me more than 40 years to go back.

            A few months before our trip I spent time searching the Air B & B website having decided we would do what we often have done in foreign cities…rent our own apartment.  It is the only way to experience what it is like to live in a place.  In the case of Barcelona it was a good decision as this is a city overflowing with tourists and hotels.  There is an element of luck in picking the right apartment and location.  I chose the barrio of Eixample, on the other side of the Plaza Catalunya. The Plaza is in the center of this city of 1.6 million people. We checked into our flat on Carrer le Bruc 17 and learned quickly we could walk everywhere.  Perfect!  Our second floor one bedroom flat had all the amenities and I liked coming and going on our own, entering the big rod iron, glass front door to walk into a large marble entry way with concierge.  A winding wide marble stairway with elaborate banister, swept up to the first and second floors whereas the tiny elevator seemed an afterthought tucked next to the stairwell.

View from our flat on Career de Bruc

Beautiful Palau de Musica - concert hall

            On our taxi ride from the bus station to Carrer Bruc, Art began a conversation with the driver about the secession issue which had been in the news last year when a vote was taken in Parliament for Catalonia to secede from Spain.  The resolution to secede passed but,the Spanish courts nullified it saying it was illegal.  Catalonia is the richest area of Spain because of trade. tourism , and high tech industry  Barcelona has been an important port city on the Mediterranean coast for centuries.  “Do people in Catalonia still want to secede from Spain?” Art wanted to know.  “Oh no,” the taxi driver responded. In his opinion it would be a disaster economically for Catalonia to leave Spain.  It appears the independence movement does not have the majority support of the people and the Spanish central government is not about to let it go.

            It is easy to see why so many people remember Barcelona as a favorite city.  While famous for its Gaudi monuments and buildings, I found every building an architectural delight.  The city streets and avenues are lined with shady tall trees and wide sidewalks so reminiscent of Recoleta, an upscale barrio of  downtown Buenos Aires where I grew up.  In fact I couldn’t stop seeing the similarities and exclaiming, “this is just like BA”.  And it is.  However, traffic seems so orderly in Barcelona and there is a definite respect for pedestrians.  No one jay walks and we quickly learned to get in line at street corners to wait for the pedestrian crossing light, All traffic comes to a stand still for pedestrians.When had I ever been in a city where that was the case?  Spaniards in Barcelona are polite and appear to have patience with the hoards of tourists that invade their city. 

Gaudi's La Pedrera apartment building

Flower Festival in Girona

            Taking a map and setting out each day, we quickly learned how to get around.  All street names are in Catalan and not Spanish as are many of the store names and advertisements.  Within three blocks we found El Corte Ingles, a nine-story department store in the heart of Barcelona.  It is the fourth largest department store chain in Europe and the biggest in Spain.  We frequented the busy supermarket on the lower level and would stop daily to pick up wine, cheese and crackers, fruit and breakfast foods to bring back to our small kitchen. Being close to the Plaza Catalunya we found the famous Las Ramblas where we strolled, people watching and window-shopping under tall shady trees. We explored the narrow back streets in the Barrio Gótico, (old city), to find the least touristy cafes where we could enjoy a leisurely lunch selected from the Menú del Dia.  We took a city bus in order to get to the Museo Joan Miró that is high up in the hills overlooking Barcelona.  Even the buses for the airport leave every five minutes, 24 hrs. a day from Plaza Catalunya.  Barcelona is an easy city to get around on your own and by the end of our week I could have stayed indefinitely.

            What is a surprise for the first time visitor are the many museums of the most famous artists in the world.  I kept wondering how is it that this one area of Spain – Catalonia and Barcelona and its environs just happened to produce artistic geniuses like Pablo Picasso, Joan Miró, Antoni Tapies, Salvador Dali, and Antoni Gaudi.  Each museum is a gem and makes you come away feeling the need for more time to know these artists. We booked a bus tour for a day to Girona, a medieval city in Catalonia, and Figueres where the whimsical Dali museum is located. Designed and planned entirely by Salvador Dali during his lifetime and built in his hometown of Figueres, it is 150 kilometers from Barcelona. It is one of the most imaginative and bizarre museums we had ever visited and it reflects Dali’s creativity and unique art. 

Dali Museum in Figures

Courtyard in the Dali Museum

            Our days in Barcelona went by quickly. Now that I’m home with time to reflect on all we experienced, I, too, will be one of those who exclaims “Barcelona…one of my favorite cities in the world…”

           

             

                       

        

Along the Catalan Coast

          In the weeks leading up to our independent walking trip along the Costa Brava in Spain I was saying to friends, “no, it’s not the Camino, but we’ll be walking along the Mediterranean coast from fishing village to fishing village for seven days.”  Maybe because I know nothing of the Costa Brava and had only skimmed though the walking notes thinking they'd make more sense when we got there,  “the quiet face of the Costa Brava" made it all sound quaint and undiscovered by hoards of tourists.  That would have been the case if we had been there in 1950.

   

To our surprise, we learned that the Costa Brava is an upscale and crowded resort in Spain during the months of July and August.  When I asked a taxi driver what it was like in the summer season she had the perfect metaphor -no se puede meter ni una aguja en la playa  (you can’t stick even one pin on the beach). We walked in early May on wide empty beaches with a scattering of sunbathers and through towns with houses and apartments closed up tight, cafes and boutiques not yet opened, and marinas full of boats waiting for their owners. Very few people were swimming in the ocean as it was chilly and swimming pools at our various hotels looked enticing but were empty. Art and I kept saying to one another, “isn’t it good we came off season?” Our poetic taxi driver told us mid- September into is the perfect time to visit.

A few sunbathers...no swimmers...

            Costa Brava means “wild coast” and is in northeast Spain on the Mediterranean near the French border. It is a breathtakingly beautiful area because of its rocky cliffs, small inlets and bays, turquoise blue waters, and eclectic mixture of foliage – from different species of pines to cactuses growing on cliffs, wild roses, oak cork trees to flowering succulents.  It’s the wildness of this particular coastline and the history of smuggling that make it alluring to the imagination. For centuries there were simple paths along the coast used by villagers and animal herders.  But there is also intriguing history of smugglers escaping on paths along this coast to the sea. 

          In the 1960’s and 70’s with the building of roads and spread of automobiles there was a construction boom and wealthy Spaniards built vacation homes and hotels and this coast grew into a summer resort much more exclusive than resorts in Marbella and southern Spain. Hidden behind walls and gates, and perched high on the Costa Brava cliffs, are estates that are owned by families who inherited them and will pass them on in this way.  Our taxi driver told us that many politicians during the Franco era had homes here. Every hotel we stayed at is privately owned and run by third and fourth generation family members.  No Westin’s, Hilton’s, Sheraton’s, or Mandarin’s on the Costa Brava, thank goodness.

 Along the Cami...path

 It wasn’t until recently, that the coastal path was rebuilt and now the cami de ronda is clearly accessible along the edge of the cliffs. The cami (name for a pathway in Catalan) is flash marked with visible red and white stripes for many miles along the coast. Our hike followed the Cami de Ronda. In places, our directions said,  “put the notes and map away until just before the end of the promenade.” What a relief to know that it might be hard to get lost! The path along the cliffs took us down to coves and small bays into towns and past houses perched, one on top of the other all straining for a view of the Mediterranean Sea. We hiked past marinas with expensive yachts, and along promenades lined with beautifully manicured flower planters, next to wide white sand beaches. The Cami de Ronda would start up again at the end of the beach, and we’d climb high up on the cliffs, in some places using stairs carved from rock.

Along the promenade

The marina in La Fosca

Red and white flashers on the Cami

Along the Cami de Ronda

The Cami is shaded most of the way as it’s surrounded by trees with deep gnarled roots growing in wonderful designs and grasses, wildflowers, and succulents lining the path. Reaching the top we could look across to what was ahead in the next cove and look back to admire the route we had  traversed.  Our walks each day from hotel to hotel took on a rhythm of up and down – views from above out to sea and along the waterfront and then down across the beaches as we stood on the sand to look around breathing in the fresh sea air.  I liked that the Cami de Ronda” is free of litter and yet the Spaniards seem to love graffiti.  We found it along some of the rocks and inside the short tunnels that are part of the Cami.  We saw it everywhere in Barcelona so perhaps it is part of the youth culture. 

On one day our hike took us past the ruins of a Roman castle, Castell de Sant Esteve de Mar, dating back to the 13^th century.  It was built on a cliff above Fosca Bay.  There are few remains of medieval buildings such as this one. The quiet fishing villages are no longer there. The once simple bungalows and barracas (boathouses) with their big arched wooden doors built into the cliffs remain.  Today, they are used for family gatherings by Spaniards who own them and are rarely sold. The Cala S’Alguer is a World Cultural Heritage site. It is one tiny cove with a cluster of original looking fishermen’s cottages.  Our walking notes described it as “one of the prettiest spots on the Costa Brava”.  We stopped there on a beautiful sunny morning imagining the lives of fisherman’s families living in such a remote but gorgeous spot centuries ago. There was no one around and the cottages were closed up tight.

World Cultural Heritage Site - Fishing Village

On our previous walking trips to Portugal and Morocco we stayed at small country inns and so we had not expected to stay in larger resort hotels as we did along the Costa Brava. Each hotel was unique because they are privately owned and they don’t  carry the stigma of being part of a “chain”.  The advantage to going in early May is that the hotels were not full. In three of our hotels, as Inntravel guests, we were given the upgraded rooms with a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.  At night we opened the French doors a crack to hear the crashing of the waves on the rocks and could fall asleep breathing the sea air.  Breakfasts were sumptuous buffet spreads with irresistible varieties of fresh baked breads and cheeses, fruits, smoked fish, and other delicacies.  Dinners started at 8 p.m. and we, los Americanos, were inevitably the first ones in the dining room while the Spaniards, French, and other Europeans casually arrived around 9 p.m. or later.  Why is it, I wondered, that Europeans just know how to make each meal into a gracious occasion and not something to be gotten over with because you are hungry and want to get to bed?

Our balcony and view in Aigua Blava

Each night, after being seated in the dining room at a table with white cloth and napkins overlooking the sea, we would order our half bottle of Vino Tinto (red wine) and a bottle of Agua con Gas (soda water) before studying the choices from the Menú del Dia.  There are always three choices of appetizers including salads to complete pasta dishes that for us might be an entire meal.  The second course always included at least one fish entrée and often pork, veal, or mutton.  Desserts were scrumptious but once we discovered Crema Catalana (a lighter pudding version of flan served in a round, wide pottery dish and topped with caramelized sugar) we seemed to order it over and over again. Dinner was the event of the evening and we looked forward to it all day. Needless to say, despite our 7 to 10 mile we did not lose an ounce! 

 No picnic lunches on the Costa Brava hike because there are cafes and restaurants enroute. Our notes suggested we eat along the way, which we did.  We loved the midmorning coffee breaks that all Spaniards build into their lives, and took rest breaks with a cafecito or a Café Americano – so satisfying because of the strong espresso coffee.  However, having just described our evening meals the temptation to sample the Menú del Dia for lunch (often for a mere 10 to 12 euros per person) was too tempting.   We hiked till it was at least 1 pm because lunch is not served before that hour. Sometimes it would take us an extra half hour or more to find just the right place and a Menu that appealed. It didn’t matter because lunch is served until 4 pm.  Enticed by the affordable price tag and curious to sample the various courses we rationalized that it was all part of the cultural experience and one of the few bargains we found in Spain. “We’ll go back to our Spartan diet when we get home,” we told each other.  The three-course Menú del Dia always included wine or beer, bottled water, two courses, plus dessert.  Not quite the light picnic fare we take on most hikes but too enjoyable to pass up.

In Calella de Palafrugell one of the bigger towns we stayed in for two nights, we discovered the Restaurant Limón where we sat outdoors and ate fresh mussels and a special warm goat cheese salad – fresh greens, pine nuts, walnuts, cherry tomatoes, topped with a large warm melting chunk of goat cheese and thick balsamic sauce spread on top.  Next to Crema Catalana this was my favorite Spanish dish.  We sampled so many different kinds of fish from monkfish to sole, cod, scallops, rockfish, merluza, sea bass, and  shrimp.  It’s difficult to have a bad meal in Spain whether you eat in a local café that is “off the beaten track” or at one of our four star hotel restaurants.

Warm goat cheese salad

In Cataluña I wondered if I’d be able to speak Spanish.  All street signs and names of businesses, billboards, advertisements, and even menus are in Catalán.  Everyone in this part of Spain is bilingual and they switch back and forth seamlessly.  Museums and menus in Catalán are translated into Spanish, and English especially in Barcelona. I was eager to hear and speak Spanish but throughout most of our walk the most prevalent language around us was French!  The French border is less than an hour’s drive and it was a bank holiday in France.  The French drive to the Costa Brava for holidays and shopping. Spain is a bargain for the French but not for Americans. We didn’t see Americans until we were back to Barcelona.  I consoled myself by using Spanish in restaurants and if we were buying anything – a chat in a coffee shop as we ordered a midmorning cafecito or asking directions to somewhere in our hotel.  Spaniards would look at me startled at first and then ask the inevitable question “Como habla tan bien el Español?”  And I would simply say, “I’m a Chilena (Soy chilena) ,” which is only part truth but I liked that answer.  Back in Barcelona after the hike, I decided to only use Spanish wherever we went and told Art we’d take the tours in Spanish at the museums rather than in English, which we did.  He was a good sport and actually understands much more than he speaks.  While I didn’t have time to develop the Spanish accent I loved the expression I heard everywhere “Vale”, which is a cross between “OK” and “Uhuhhh”…a slang expression you hear all over.

Much of what I expected before we left on our walking trip did turn out to be different. I will not forget those dramatic, unforgettable views of the Costa Brava and the Mediterranean Sea. The last two days a storm front came across the Iberian Peninsula and we were engulfed in fog and rain.  It was then that we saw another face of this coastline. We were in Aigua Blava, our last stop and hotel for two nights before returning to Barcelona. We were given a premier room in this empty resort, only recently vacated by French tourists. Our room had the largest sea-facing balcony of all.   Watching the rain come down in sheets and listening to the crashing of the high surf and waves as it came up against the rocks below us we experienced another aspect of the Costa Brava and the meaning of  “wild coast”.  As I let my imagination go I thought of fishermen over the centuries lost at sea in storms like this one.  The next morning we packed and headed inland by bus back to Barcelona for a second week of adventuring.