Dalí...how I do love thee...

The front of the museum

The crazy sculpture (from a few angles) in the center courtyard

A VERY small sampling of Dalí's work

A fun color and ink picture I liked

The remainder of my meal after the museum; I did an entirely typical Spanish meal with Gazpacho, Paella, Sangria & Flan! This is the remains of it...

I found love today. Yes, true love. A deep love…of artwork by Salvador Dalí! I took the train from Barcelona to Figueres, the hometown of the Teatre Museo Dalí. Figueres is about two hours north and a little west of Barcelona which I didn’t know until I was on my way BACK to Barcelona and was realizing just how many people from France were in my car. I swear the entire time I was there as well as my ride there, I had convinced myself that I was going south. At the museum, everything was in Catalan, Spanish, English and French (which was the first time I had seen things in French since arriving to Spain and even this did not trigger something. Neither did the gaggle of French teenagers in for a field trip. Ah, my lack of directional know-how returns to me.) and still I didn’t think about the fact that I might be very close to France (which I found out when I returned to my flat and checked out a map).

Anyhow, aside from thinking I was south and not north, the trip was incredible! The museum was definitely the best I have seen so far and now I understand why it is considered the third most-seen museum in Spain after the Prado in Madrid and the Guggenheim in Bilbao.

Dalí curated the entire museum and everything inside of it is his work with the exception of a half a floor which had some paintings by a couple of other artists. The museum itself is a typical Spanish edifice with a large circular courtyard in the center which has this enormous sculpture in the middle of it which starts with a car on the ground, a figure on top of it, and then what looks like a boat with hanging drops paralyzed by gravity below. It was quite bizarre but I loved it all. Each section of the interior of the museum weaves you around to the next, and every wall of every room is filled with work by this extremely talented artist. Prior to coming today, I didn’t know Dalí did much else except for his well-known surrealist paintings of clocks melting. The museum shows you every aspect of his talents from full oil paintings to jewelry to sculpture to pen & ink drawings to everything in between.

My favorite pieces were actually a full wall with 8x10s of pen & inks whose subjects were varied from melting clocks and grasshoppers (which Dalí was scared of and so these represented “fear”, when you see them crossing the backgrounds paintings and drawings) to gesture drawings to full-detailing of various parts of the body. There was so much to see and take in and I left full in love with the artist and all of the time he put into the museum and his work.

The Book and the Beach.

Obligatory photos of the beach from today (taken by my new camera which I absolutely adore); when I arrived that flag was a “come and swim” green and by the time I left it was a “be careful because the waves are crazy” yellow. Also, in the second one, how tiny does that little kid look who is in total shadow? What a happy surprise when I looked at my photos when I came home!

Today I took a trip to the beach at Masnou as the skies were blue, it was a Saturday, and there seemed no better place to finish my page-turner of a novel that I was almost close to concluding. May I make a quick public service announcement to anyone who is looking for a new book to read and may or may not have ever been to Barcelona. This one is written by Barcelona-born author, Carlos Ruiz Zafón, and called “Shadow of the Wind” which was first written in Spanish in 2001 (of course) and then translated into English three years later. It was recommended to ME by Sonja who had read it in Spanish, but it had been recommended to HER by someone who had read it in German (it´s been translated into 15 different languages). It was one of those books you don’t want to put down and in the last hundred pages, as you are nearing the end while turning each page faster than the last (because you are so curious as to what comes next), you also realize that the more you learn, the closer you will be to finishing it, and then what?! What happens when there is no more book to read? Well, the Mediterranean Sea watched me finish this book while the wind was whipping sand around at Masnou and I must say, it was incredible. I loved the characters, I loved the weaving that the author did between the characters and in and out of time periods, I loved knowing the places they were talking about in Barcelona though it was mainly set in the 1950s. I loved all of it and if you are looking for a book, may I suggest checking out the ‘Z’ section (for Zafón) in Barnes & Noble (or if you are English-speaking and in Barcelona, a little bookshop off of Las Ramblas that sells a few titles in English).

Out with the English...in with the Spanish?

The terrace of Casa Mila that I spoke about in my last entry. Thank heavens for memory cards! My camera might have croaked but my pictures stayed alive.

Looking up at one of the funky sculptural entrances on the terrace. MY fave pic of the day.

A view to Tibidado between an arched entryway on the terrace...and the last photo I took before said camera croaked.

After just hitting the three-week mark here yesterday, I have been trying to decide if my time has flown or if it has crawled or maybe it’s just going along at a normal life’s pace. Of this I am not sure. Part of me feels like New York City was a million months ago. Comprehending the time lapsed makes my head hurt as much as trying to figure out which of the three past tenses of a verb to use in Spanish. Alas, I will stop trying to think about it and just let this trip be.

What I do know is that my spelling of the English language has gotten worse with the more Spanish words that I write down: in the margins of my notebook, on post-it notes, on anything I can get my hands on when I want to remember a word. I pride myself on knowing how to spell things correctly and thank my Mom and English-majored Grandma for this genetic ability. However, in my one-on-one class the other day I couldn’t remember how to spell “immigrant” in English. I faltered after the first “m” unsure of the placement of another “m” afterwards. It boggled my mind for at least a minute and I went with my gut and added the “m”. Thank goodness because I would have had to check myself into the nearest English school here in Barcelona.

I have attempted to become fully engrossed in the Spanish language and can’t seem to take in enough new words but, honestly, fear they are taking the place of my English spelling and grammar abilities. Here in casa, I am taught at least 10 new words every few hours spent with Mariluz and Fer. Those I want to really remember I write down and then try to use them again later so as not to forget and prove that I am learning what they are teaching me. They are both so patient and its really a lot of fun ONLY speaking Spanish here in my flat.

However, I don’t want you all to think I have become anywhere near fluent, because I haven’t. One can definitely see the wheels turning in my head while trying to figure out the correct conjugation of verbs before I say them. I have also had some good flubs so far, both in class and here at home, that have brought with them some good laughter; on my part as well. My first favorite up until now has been the confusion with the words for “high heels” and “bowls” (they are the same with the exception that one has an “s” and one has a “c”). When talking about what I wear to work in NYC I claimed that I usually wear skirts, and on my feet “bowls”. My second favorite error was in class. The professor dictated a paragraph out loud and we had to write down what he said, word for word, as practice in writing and understanding. Afterwards, each student went up to the board and wrote down one sentence and then we went over it and made sure all was correct with accent marks and vowels all in their correct places. Well, my turn comes to write the next sentence (keep in mind, this is a story about a war in Peru) and instead of writing “Although at the time he was filled with fear…” I wrote that “Although at the time he was filled with sheets…” The spanish words for “sheets” and “fear” are similar except one has an “R” and one doesn’t.

I have found that once I make a great error like that, I have NOT forgotten the difference in words!

Casa Mila/La Pedrera (same building, two names).

Again, I have no new photos to show you all from my trip to the Casa Mila (aka La Pedrera) today and this time it’s not because I forgot my camera but because my camera BROKE. The photos you see above were taken on my first day here in Barcelona when I had no idea what this building really was, though was definitely in awe of it. A quick informational background on Casa Mila was that it was purchased by a local Barcelona company and then was commissioned to be designed by Antoni Gaudí, none other than the architect whose (blue)prints are all over this city and who I have become quite fond of. The entire building was actually full of apartments for the newly wealthy aristocrats that had settled in Barcelona once the city began its boom in the 1910s - 1920s.

The building is on the corner of two streets (one being Passeig de Gracia which I had mentioned in my first posting while here) and the way that Gaudí designed it was a free-flowing shape that curved around instead of a typical right angle that most buildings on corners have. No straight lines for this guy!

The most remarkable aspect of this building is the terrace which when looked at from all angles gives some incredible views of Barcelona (though I have come to realize that because of the spectacular beauty that is this city, many architects and buildings have decided to give people a way to see it; not hide it just for the view of those on airplanes). When one looks at the sides of the top of this terrace, it looks like wavy lines that a child might draw to represent the ocean though when you walk around it, the ground is flat and the stairs hide behind these wavy lines to give the impression from other angles that it is curvy. Also rising out of the top of the terrace are these structures made of a peachy eggwhite-colored concrete as well as the cracked white and gray tiles that Gaudí loves to use in everything. I believe there were 6 large structures and they were all of different shapes (some look like they were swirled like a top while others were more Aztec-inspired) though most of them about 9 – 12 feet high. There were two areas in the terrace where you could look down inside the building and see ALL the way to the ground floor as I have found is typical of many buildings here in Spain where there is sort of a dead space somewhere in the middle of the building. Inside of this space, windows were randomly placed and each had a little hood, as if it would rain and the person peering out would be protected from the elements.

It was also up on the terrace where one of my favorite possessions decided to break and for that, I will always remember the Casa Mila. The cord that attaches to my camera which I keep around my wrist at all times when taking photos (for fear that it might fall out of my hands decided to break), today decided to break. And while I was being a good Samaritan! I had offered to take a photo for two girls so they could have a photo of the two of them together up on the terrace and as I was looking through the viewfinder of their camera…PLOP…went my camera about five feet to the ground (I guess at least it didn’t fall off the building). I am heading to a Canon store tomorrow after class to see what the damages will be or if it will be better off to buy a new one. If anyone has purchased a Canon PowerShot (the digital smaller ones, not a large SLR) recently and has a recommendation of a model, I would GREATLY appreciate it! I don’t want to be more than a few days here sans camera!

Anyhow, the remainder of this building was not for show but they did have a couple of sections with an audioguided tour (which was really informative) which walked the viewer around to models of Casa Mila as well as four of Gaudí’s other well-known structures here in Barcelona. At the end, you can have the chance to see what one of these apartments actually looked like with furniture set up and everything (though the audioguide tells you that this furniture is NOT what was actually here in this very apartment, but similar to what might have been there). I have decided that I would move in there in a heartbeat though I don’t really think any are for renting at this time (nor could I afford it on my Euro budget while here).

Breakfast-searching, Picasso & another Parc.

These pictures were taken a couple of days ago in the subway and since I had no camera on me today, I figured it would be a good excuse to show them now. The third photo was on the ground just in front of this wall advertisement. I love the line-drawings!

Today was a full sight-seeing day as well as a day where I put many miles on my Reef flip-flops. The day began with Sonja and I on a mission to find breakfast in Barcelona. We learned after about 40 minutes of walking around the waterfront near the beach of Barceloneta and Port Vell that this does not exist. The Spanish do not believe in a “traditional” breakfast like Sonja and I believe in; we had visions of finding our equivalent of American and German brunch which consists of a choice of omelet, French toast, pancakes, granola and yogurt with fruit; etc. Well, my amigos, if you come to Barcelona, do not expect to find anything but café & croissant. I have learned to deal with this and now add “brunch” to my short list of things I miss about the United States (articles 1 and 2 thus far on said list: 1. good plumbing and 2. prohibition of smoking in bars & restaurants).

After eating Spanish breakfast, we made our way to the La Ribera neighborhood which is just north of Barceloneta and to the east of Barri Gotic. As I mentioned before, pretty much every barrio here touches three others and makes it very easy to not get lost (one of my favorite pastimes). La Ribera is one of the last neighborhoods to get cleaned up and filled with little cafes and design-y shops. Our reason for going there today was to see the Picasso Museum. This had been on my list of “to-dos” here since about January when I discovered there was a whole museum devoted to this Spanish painter. I had seen an incredible Picasso exhibit at the Guggenheim in NYC a few years ago which I had loved and this museum in Barcelona rivaled how I felt about that show. The one thing about THIS museum, however, that I liked better was really seeing where his art began and how it had changed; depending on literally the geography and his personal surroundings; of that one major influence was the extended periods of time that he spent in Barcelona. Much of the museum’s works were donated by the artist himself and his widow, Jacqueline.

I would love to show you some pictures of this museum because it was in a great stone edifice among the narrow streets of La Ribera but a) I forgot my camera and b) the museum security were as fierce and quick as the FBI and strictly enforced the ‘no photography’ rule even through there were areas that were outdoors and to me, didn’t seem like it would be the end of the world if someone were to take a photo there.

The last part of the day was spent walking around the Parc de la Ciutadella which of course, was just next to La Ribera and north of Barceloneta. Dear readers, if I teach you anything from my trip here, it is that even you too can navigate Barcelona with just the help of a simple pocket map and a set of eyes. The Parc was to be a mini-version of Central Park in NYC (I hate that I have to compare everything here to NYC but I guess it’s impossible not to); perfectly manicured flowerbeds, pretty fountains with sculptures (though at this time with no water as there is a small water shortage here in Barcelona), a zoo, long malls of lawns, a small pond with three species of ducks where one can rent rowboats, and of course many areas of grass perfect for lovely Sunday picnics (of which there were many). Again, I regret to inform you that I have no photo-documentation for this Parc because it was quaint and serene and had the best trees with curvy limbs. This now gives me an excuse to go back and take it all in with my camera lens.

Running & Las Ramblas (late morning Saturday) = not a good idea.

This was not taken while I was running but another day walking down Las Ramblas. This was also on a Saturday, but it gives you a little idea of the sort of the people traffic there can be.

Saturday was a fairly relaxed day here in Barcelona as it began with a run down to the water from my flat and around the waterfront and then back. This Saturday morning, I left much later than last, and therefore upon running through Las Ramblas (on the sidewalk, NOT the major path down the middle) was met with a lot of tourists strolling and, not meaning to but, blocking my path to my run. I came back to my flat feeling like I had gotten a good workout, regardless of the tourists but think I will try to go earlier next time. Unfortunately there are not many areas in Barcelona to really get in a good run unless I want to run the hills of Parc Guell which I am thinking about torturing myself with one of these days when it isn’t so hot. I find this funny because Barcelona hosts not one but two marathons throughout the year (the main one in March and then another actually in a couple of weeks). I want to know where people are training!

MNAC. With a view!

Thursday after moving into my new abode and unpacking (not that one really has much to unpack when they are staying somewhere for under three months) I made my way down to the MNAC (Musuem of National Art of Catalunya). I had looked on a map before going and when I got down there after coming out of the Metro, got my bearings fairly quickly and turned and walked in the direction of the museum.

The area that the MNAC is located is called Montjuic, which is the pretty big mountain along the sea here in Barcelona. I have not been to the top yet where there is a castle and also the Miró Museum but it has definitely found its way into some of my photos (most from Parc Guell the other day). Upon walking towards where I thought was the museum I spied this enormous castle-looking building set atop a hill (see first photo above). It was set so perfectly and symmetrically and the more I got close to it, the clearer my pictures were. I had somehow, from looking at the map as well as following signs along the curving road, had decided that MNAC was on the other side of this building. I found myself walking up the winding road and ended up asking (what I didn’t know were) Irish tourists (in Spanish) if they knew where the museum was. They didn’t speak Spanish (which was funny as it was the first time I had used it and had someone NOT understand me because they didn’t know the language) and then we all figured out we spoke English and found out that the museum had been none other than that huge castle-like building I had feverishly been taking photos of. Whoops! I also must say that for such an old building it has quite a fresh logo; just another example of the intertwining of the old art to the new that I have come to love so much here in Barcelona

Retracing my steps (which was only about 15 minutes out of my way) I climbed the many stairs to this castle of a museum and went inside. I made it there at a little after 5 in the afternoon and decided that I would not be able to see the permanent collection by the time the museum closed its doors at 7 so decided to just attack the exhibit on view temporarily and would come back and see the remainder of the museum. From what I have heard, MNAC’s permanent collection is equivalent to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC; definitely can’t do the whole thing in one day!

The temporary exhibit on view until the end of September is “Duchamp, Man Ray, Picabia” and what an exhibit! I knew little of these three artists to begin with and then topped with the fact that I had no idea they were not only artists but friends with each other, made this exhibit a great art learning experience. The exhibit was curated in chronological order from the beginning of their careers to the ends and in each section the viewer learns through seeing the works by the three artists side-by-side that they had great influence on each other when it came to subjects and materials. I especially liked this exhibit because during the week in Spanish class I had learned three of the past tenses of verbs and now a whole world of reading had been opened up to me! Words that before I had had no idea what they meant (for example, the Spanish word for ‘he walked’ instead of ‘he walks’) had been unlocked and I could actually read the blurbs next to the works of art. Well, for the most part, some were still locked to me as I had to keep a running list of words to look up in my Spanish/English dictionary when I got home.

After I finished wandering around the museum I exited out the front door to be greeted by an incredible view down past the steps of the museum and the sounds of a man playing the electric guitar with Spanish flair. The whole experience seemed too good to pass up, so considering I was in no hurry to get away (as seems to be the case here in Barcelona; unless I am on my way to class in the morning!) I decided to sit on the stone steps and take it all in along with the other museum-goers who also decided that there was no better way to spend an early Thursday evening in September.

Ahhh...a new home (though this one pictured isn't mine).

Nope. Not my new house. This was in Parc Guell yesterday but I thought it would be a nice photo to accompany an entry about my new (temporary) home (I believe that “SALVE” means “safety”)

Let me begin this blog entry by saying that I am a firm believer in fate. I am also a believer in the new Spanish proverb I learned my first day of class:

"El mundo es un panuelo."

The literal translation is that “the world is a handkerchief” but the proverbial explanation is that the world is small and you find people when you didn’t even know you were looking for them. I am also a believer that timing is everything in life. Well, my friends, after 5 days of stressful flat-searching here in Barcelona with the slight fear that my 4-foot 9-inch roommate was somehow going to challenge my staying in the flat and really change the locks (as she told Sonja in German in front of me while I ate my Special-K during breakfast Sunday morning), I have found a new home for (hopefully) the duration of my stay in Barcelona, which is two months. Today, in fact, marks the two-week mark already since my arrival!

The reason my world became a handkerchief is because Tuesday morning at 9am I began my one-on-one Spanish with a teacher. I have class everyday for 3 hours in the morning with 4 other people, but three days a week have an hour with a teacher before class. The first day that I was tested on my skills (or possibly lack there of) I was assigned a teacher for my one-on-one as well as for my class that week. I saw her name scribbled on my exam but didn't think it would be the key to my housing situation. Mariluz and I met while I for sure was with some bags under my eyes from not sleeping well (due to the extreme noise that is outside of my window and due to the flat-searching stress that kept me up later than I wanted and awakened me before my alarm) and my hair unwashed because my lazy flatmate hadn’t fixed the broken showerhead and there was no water coming out of it.

Because it was our first meeting, Mariluz asked me how I was doing and my answer was “tired” (all in Spanish of course as all classes are in Spanish) and she asked why and I went on to explain that I had been looking for a place to live and she asked why and I told her the reasons and then she asked what I was looking for in a place and I told her and before I knew it she was telling me that she and her boyfriend had a room they had thought about renting out and would I want to look at it?! Well, folks, as of 3pm this afternoon, I saw the new place, talked about books and ate grapes with Mariluz and have decided to move in tomorrow afternoon. She is 33 and is finishing her masters degree in education and she is a huge help with my Spanish; I also told her I would help her with her English so this seems to be a much better situation than I am in right now.

I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders the moment I left her flat and excitement in getting life a little back to normal here without having to search online and walk up and down and all around Gracia looking at places. I want to feel settled again and especially with having regularity in my days because of school, it’s nice to feel like I am starting again. And in a MUCH quieter place. With internet!

Parc + Gaudi = incredíble!

The famous bench.

My own montage of the tiles. As usual, I couldn't stop taking photos of them!

The view from the very top!

Some funky man-made "trees" with hidden benches between.

Stone formed in ways I had never seen stones formed.

The famous Parc Guell (or at least famous here in Barcelona) was where I went this afternoon. It was a perfect blue-skied day and I was looking for a calm setting to spend my time after school and eating lunch as I had no flats to look at until this evening (yes, I am still trying to find a place). My neighborhood is fairly close to the Parc and so I decided to hike up the steep hill that is the top of Barcelona and found my way to the Gaudi-designed great outdoors.

I must say, it was very impressive! I had seen pictures and postcards around Las Ramblas but didn’t know really what to expect. The view of the entire city was breathtaking, as were the many broken ceramic tiles that Gaudi used on the crazy twisty and turn-y bench that is so famous. These pieces ranged in colors from reds to yellows, pinks to blues, green to oranges and everything in between. The sizes and shapes and clarity and sheen and patterns were all different and to be honest, I could have taken pictures of every piece of every part of this very long seating area! Not only was I able to sit on this funky bench and look at all of the tile pieces that were used, I also had a view all the way to the Mediterranean and over all of the buildings throughout Barcelona. It was incredible.

Walking my way around the Parc (after having a 65-year old Spanish man talk to me for about 20 minutes – of which I might have understood a third of what he was saying the Spanish talk quickly and ask me multiple times if I would see the sights around the Parc with him; to which I of course declined and kept saying no until finally he backed down. I need to learn the Spanish phrase for “I am all set. Thanks anyhow, but leave me alone.”) I saw the Gaudi museum (of course designed by his truly), a few other edifices also with vibrant colors, fantastic and very different benches and lookout points, and some other random structures made from stones of all kind but all with the Gaudi touch.

The Parc winds you up and around and around until you get to the top by some 115 stairs (yes, I counted) from one of the walkways. At the top is the most “ahhhh” view that I had seen since arriving into the Parc; though at each twist and turn and looking out to Barcelona I thought that “no. THIS is the best view. Wait! No, THIS is the best view”. Well folks, walk up to the top of the Parc because THAT is really the best view. The horizon line was blurred this afternoon and sort of looked like an oil painting where the sky and the sea met. If there were not hundreds of buildings below, I would have felt like I was in a remote mountain village up there as it was so peaceful. I don’t think the herds of tourists all waiting their turn to take pictures of each other on the famous benches made their way up to the top.

First day of school!

No, this is not what the front door of my Spanish school looks like but I wanted a reason to show this photo of a random home across the street from the Gaudi in Gracia. Since I didn’t take any pictures of the school (as it really isn’t that interesting from the outside) I figured now would be as good a time as any to show this funny door knocker!

Day one of Spanish class was incredible if not only because it was wonderful to be learning this language some more that is all around me BUT it also was a great distraction to my flat-searching and stress of a cranky flatmate. I definitely don’t remember loving class nearly this much as when I was in high school or middle school, that is for sure (Katie, this teacher is nothing like ours at BHS)! The teacher is Spanish guy about my age who is very funny and teaches the class only in Spanish (of course). I had to take a short test upon arrival to see what class I would be put into as did the others who were starting their first days today. I am happy to say that I don’t think I was put in the remedial group since I was the only one in my class of thirteen that was starting their first day today. The school is run differently in that you can start at anytime during the year and sign up for as many weeks as you would like; I have chosen to take 4 which includes a group class every morning and then three mornings a week (before the group) I have one on one with a professor. That starts tomorrow and I am a little nervous about that.

So my class today started by each of us going around and saying our names, where were were from, what we did or studied and were prompted by the teacher for more information if asked. All in Spanish of course. Well, I took note of where everyone was from and here is the geographical data: Ukraine, Austria, Brazli, Japan, Poland, Czechoslovakia (wow, that only took me two guesses at the spelling of that to get it right), Germany and the United States. I am proud to say I was the only American! It was pretty amazing to me that here we were thirteen people from across the globe and we were united by one thing; the ability to (or attempt to) speak Spanish!

We did a lot of conversational exercises, some grammar, and learning of common Spanish phrases that are not literal translations but more proverbs. I even got homework to test some grammar which I already finished in the Plaza earlier and received many strange looks from the woman on the bench next to me as I was conjugating my past tense verbs aloud. It really helps though. And now I don’t feel like a complete moron being able to tell people what I did in the past; as opposed to telling them everything in the future and adding “yesterday” or “two weeks ago” at the end. Ie. “I go to the restaurant yesterday” or “I arrive in Barcelona two weeks ago”.

My broken Spanish will soon be fixed!

The Search.

I feel that I can say that mostly all of my American readers are enjoying a splendid Labor Day weekend in the States right now. It is strange being here and not taking part in the tradition that is a 3-day weekend lamenting over the end of a usually fast summer and the onset of hopefully a calm autumn. In Spain, of course, there is no "Labor Day" but in fact today is the beginning of school for most everyone (including me!) and the return to work for those who closed their shops and restaurants for the summer vacation as many in Spain do. I have been "celebrating" Labor Day weekend in a different fashion from everyone else as I have been at work trying to find a new housing situation before my loco flatmate changes the locks on me. I have looked at 5 places so far and have two more to see tonight. Wish me a "buenos suerte" (good luck) on my search as I would like to feel settled yet again.

On a happy note, I did spend my Labor Day (today) starting Spanish class and can honestly say it was wonderful. More about the class later on but wanted to let you know that my week is starting (hopefully) better than my weekend was.

Oh dios mio...

The Zapata Rosa.

The Gaudi in Gracia.

He even put tiles UNDER the balconies!

Imagine living next door to this?!

Life is funny sometimes. Today was a blissful day here in blue-skied Barcelona. On my walk to Virreina Bar (since it reopened!) I made a criss-cross of my path there and not the usual direct route and serendipitously found myself staring at an art supply store! This is funny because not only had I decided two days ago to seek out a store but I had put it on my list of to-dos for the day and thought I would have to trek to the Barri Gotic where the waiter in the café yesterday had told me I could possibly find an art store (or a store that sold paints, as I had asked him. I tried to do a google search and all that came up were stores that sold paint for houses and cars.). This store was exactly what I had been looking for and the owner was a very nice woman who worked there with her teenage daughter. We spoke in Spanish and taught each other the word for “eraser” in each of our languages and I purchased a notebook of watercolor paper, two drawing pencils and an eraser. This afternoon I put my new purchases to use and sat in Plaza Virreina for about 3 and a half hours drawing the church of Sant Joan that sits at one end. Towards the end, as I was finishing drawing in the steps and staring at them intently from a bench across the way, the slightly loco man who sits in the Plaza and yells things out loud in Spanish (though I learned today he also speaks English in what sounds like an Italian accent) and also knows everybody who comes through, sat on the steps I was attempting to draw and was waving at me. I don’t know if he knows but he was not part of the drawing.

Earlier in the day I went to my Spanish school to see what time class started on Monday as well as what form of payment they took. Just walking into the office and feeling the energy of learning made me so excited to start in just three days! Spanish classes are something I have been wanting to take since college (but couldn’t fit in my schedule with art studios) and even while living in NYC (but couldn’t find the time with work).

From the school I wandered through Gracia until I found the one Gaudi building (see above photos) that my Spain guidebook had told me about. It definitely looks like it was an earlier piece of work compared with the others I have seen so far. same in terms of the multitude of materials and processes but different in that it was less organically formed and there was no signature broken colored glass like Gaudi likes to use. However, it definitely stood out on the block!

I should also mention one odd thing I noticed today that should have been a sign of strange things possibly to come – the pink shoe was missing. What pink shoe? You might ask (this first photo above was taken a few days ago). Well, there has been a pink shoe on the windowsill of the third floor in my building where I am living. Everyday since the day I moved in when I walk up the stairs it is there. When I walk down the stairs it is there. In fact, I have joked with Sonja that if I was to write a book about Spain and our time here, it would be called “La casa con la zapata rosa” (The House with the Pink Shoe). I think it has a nice ring to it, don’t you? Anyhow, on my trip out to school earlier this afternoon I noticed the shoe was gone. Had I thought about it longer I might have thought to myself that perhaps the winds were changing or something would be occurring.

Everything happens for a reason; or so I believe. After a most blissful day of art, sun, coffee, writing, photographing, and Gaudi I came back to my flat to be told by my flatmate, Andrea, (an hour and a half after I returned) that she would like me to move out. I will not go into full detail but lets just say (and my friends and family will find this highly ironic) she doesn’t think I talk enough to her and try to make conversation. Again, I am not using this blog to complain or rant so what transpired in our kitchen will be kept private (or I can tell you over email if you really want to know) but I will just say that this might have been a blessing in disguise. I will keep you posted on Barcelona Flat-Hunting: Part Dos!

My second playa...

View to the south towards Barcelona

All that I really need for a day at the beach (plus some sun and clear ocean water)

The train whizzing by!

Yesterday was a beach day again as after sight-seeing all day on Wednesday and seeing as the weather was too perfect (and I had a recommend for a beach a little closer to Barcelona), I decided to do some laundry and then pack my bag of towel, suntan lotion, a peach, my book, my journal and a pen and head to the train station.

The travel to this beach, Masnou, was defintitely closer than Sitges (after I got on the correct train. A very nice gay Spanish couple showed me to a very nice older Spanish woman who told me which train to take. In fact, as we were waiting for the train to come, two others came in its tracks and each time one stopped, she looked at it and shook her head so I would know not to get on. People here are very kind!

Masnou is just north of Barcelona and it is positioned just so on the geography that is the Costa Brava that when you are on the beach you can look south and see the city! It was pretty spectacular and definitely going to be my go-to playa from now on and in fact Sonja and I will be heading there on Sunday! The water was crystal clear and the sand more plentiful than Sitges. There were mostly families there, which is fine by me, and the only noise was really from the train as it rumbled by once every ten to fifteen minutes in either direction (though sometimes they would cross paths simultaneously). As opposed to Sitges, one doesn’t have to sit directly towel to towel with their neighbors; though I am unsure if this is a beach difference or a day difference (beaches on Sundays tend to be more crowded than those on Thursdays).

Above are just a few pictures of the beach and view to the south of my new (temporary) home city!

Bananas & Laundry.

Two more firsts for me here this morning:

1. My first banana (in Spain). The reason I give this any mention at all is because the bananas here are eaten when it is still partially green on the skin outside. Strange, right? In the US a green banana would signify not nearly ripe but I just had a half-green and half-yellow banana and it is perfect! Who knew? Well, I didn’t so I had asked my roommate Andrea the other day.

2. My first load of laundry. It is pretty sweet that we have a washing machine in the kitchen, I must say. I always joke with NYCers that we will know we have “made it” one day when we have laundry INSIDE our apartment. Well, I don’t think I have made it by any means but I guess it makes up for not having internet, right? I am not sure if they make dryers in Barcelona because when I went to the store to get laundry tablets for the wash I did not see one dryer sheet; not that I would need any because there is no dryer here – just the natural Barcelona breeze coming through my flat and wafting over the drying rack! I did hang my sheet outside since it was too long to hang from the rack and I pray to god when I come back to the flat later that a) it is dry and ready for bed and b) no birds mistook it for toilet paper.

To market!

Ahhh, the most famous market in Barcelona that I am slightly embarrassed to say I first learned about from Rachael Ray (why couldn’t I have seen Anthony Bourdain there first?!) on her show “Tasty Travels” back in February. As a cook she of course loved it and since hearing about it from her, every guidebook I have read or person that I have spoken to that’s been to Barcelona has agreed ¬– it is a must-see! So, after some lunch post-museum going yesterday, I headed down Las Ramblas (that stretch of outdoor vendors going through the center of Barcelona via one long street from Plaza Catalunya to the waterfront that is lined on either side by trees that I mentioned a few posts ago. I haven’t walked the entire street yet but instead of done segments depending on where I am going) and found my way to the Mercat de la Boqueria.

Well, I have been to the two main markets here in Gracia and those are pretty impressive in their own right but la Boqueria? Well, that was in a WHOLE other league of markets! From the moment I stepped in and saw the hanging cured meats on my right (Matt, I thought instantly that will most likely be your first stop when you come here), the mounds of perfectly arranged fruit a little ahead on my right, and little squares one after another of dried fruits, nuts, and candy ahead to my right, I couldn’t help but feel my jaw drop over the sight of everything. As I walked around from stall to stall taking pictures of almost everything that was being showcased, it was a visual explosion of colors, an assault on my nostrils, and an infiltration of my ears. I didn’t even buy anything except for a fresh fruit drink of kiwi, banana and coconut (that’s the big seller at the fruit vendors, 10oz cups of all different fresh fruit blends). It was delicious and I definitely plan on going back to buy groceries because its by far the best shopping atmosphere and most things there were very inexpensive. I would also like to go back and sit at the famous bar there to get a meal that is supposed to be a favorite of locals and visitors alike (though I am not sure which one it is and have to consult some travel articles again. I thought it was Boqueria Bar at the time I took this photo yesterday but I’m not sure)

Since I can’t upload more than about 5 photos per posting (which is probably good so I don’t bore you all with endless pictures) I had to do some photo editing and designing for you to really see what I saw. As always, you can click on an image to see it bigger!