Run to Me (Barcelona)

Welcome to our last full day in Barcelona, dear reader. Unusually, the day dawned with cloud and the prospect of the rain. As it was our last day, we decided to take a more relaxed approach to the tourist life. Not just because of the weather, but also due to Jayne's blistered left heel. A Google search of chemists that are open on Sunday - it's a Catholic country, not a lot happens on Sunday, aside from church, allegedly - located one across the Plaça de Catalunya. Off we went.

We had remarked on the structure being erected in Plaça de Catalunya on several occasions throughout the week, expecting a concert or the like. No, dear reader, no. Once again we happened upon a footrace. Hence today's title, Run to Me by the Bee Gees. Come on sing it with me.

In Berlin last year, it was the half marathon. This year it was some 10km race. We turned the corner towards the Plaça and were confronted with thousands of people in running gear, some red faced, many sweating, medals in hand or dangling from their neck. Had Danté known of this phenomenon, there would have been a tenth circle of hell.

Safely negotiating the sweating, banana eating crowd, we found the chemist and commenced discussions with the brand new junior to purchase some strapping tape. There followed a linguistic dance that resulted in us purchasing something I wasn't sure was going to meet our needs.

The three dragons castle.

Back in the hotel, we examined the "extreme" padded plasters and knew they weren't going to measure up. An improvised pad was placed underneath the plaster and a series of bandaids over the top to keep it in place. Shoes on we walked down towards the Arc to where we had seen a potential breakfast location. The potential was realised in the sense that we did eat breakfast there, but not in that it wasn't great. The coffee was good, again, the pastries, not so much.

The park entrance.

One of the greenhouses.

The clouds had threatened to rain on our parade all the way down to the Arc but held off. We made the Parc de la Ciutadella and headed straight for the greenhouses that had been spruiked about on the Hop on-Hop off bus. There was no doubting the spectacular nature of the buildings themselves. As for the plants inside. Meh. A lot of banana trees and monsterios and a few bromeliads. Nothing special.

No idea, but pretty.

A bromeliad.

We continued our ramble and discovered a memorial to LGBTQI+ people with a bed of the largest begonias I've ever seen. 

Giant begonias.

The Catalan memorial.

There were a lot of people in the park, many trying to make money by attracting the Monk Parrots and providing tourists with a photo opportunity. 

Monk Parrots.

The Barcelona zoo was at one end of the park. It also contained a children's playground, a lake with row boats, a rotunda (where dance classes were happening) and a ginormous fountain. In terms of plants it was not so interesting.

The clouds were building up so we thought it best to turn for home. The rain commenced before we had reached the exit gates. Thankfully the rain was patchy and light and had stopped before we returned to the hotel. We arranged for a slightly later checkout to work in with our bus departure time and returned to our room.

Artwork in the park.

I ventured out between rain showers to withdraw some cash. Much like Croatia, the bank charges are extortionate. The first bank I went to charged €7 to withdraw money. Back home I Googled the cheapest option and set out again. It was dark now and the outside ATM had a man begging in front of it. There was an ATM inside the foyer and next to it was someone sleeping on the floor. Given all the stories I'd heard about Barcelona, I wasn't willing to risk it and returned home cashless.

We returned to Ciutat Comtal for our last meal because we knew it would be good. We weren't disappointed. Before dinner, I gave another bank a try. To withdraw €200 they were going to charge $412AUD. According to my bank the exchange rate had €200 equalling $358. No deal.

We almost made the hotel before the rain started again. A glass of red at the bar was going to be our nightcap. The bar, however, was closed for a private function. The thunderstorm had obviously driven the rooftop bar function inside.

Undeterred, I grabbed my umbrella and went in search of a Super Mercat. There was one at the end of the street. I selected a bottle of red with a bit age on it for €10,95. At the checkout the guy keyed in €16,95. I pointed to the price tag. He said, "reserva". I pointed to the price tag again. He repeated the price. I said "no" and he said "put back". I'm pretty certain he understood my next two words in English as I walked out the door followed by a string of Spanish I did not understand.

Around the corner I went to another supermarket and sourced a bottle of Nero D'avola for less than €9. Unfortunately the clouds opened and the thunderstorm arrived. My jeans were soaked from the knees down by the time I had walked the half block home.

We finished the night with the red but without the regular gelato.

Until tomorrow.

Beware, it is a transit day.

Rio Bound (Barcelona)

After yesterday's culture and architectural overload, dear reader, we decided today should be a little slower paced. Although it still included Gaudi. How could it not? Everywhere you look there are waves or fragments of colour. As usual, I am getting ahead of myself.

Warning - all the pictures are from Parc Güell and are not necessarily near the appropriate text reference.

And the song? Yes, curiously Rio Bound is played between the commentary on the Hop-on Hop-off bus. When you spend five hours plugged into the commentary it gets into your head. It's by Jeremy Sherman, have a listen.

We wandered away from the main plaça to find a café for breakfast. We ended up at Café de la Francesca, another chain. Their coffee was OK at the last place but the croissant was woeful. Today we split a toastie and had an espresso. Good coffee, reasonable toastie. While there, I attempted to download tickets for the hop on-hop off bus.

There are two such buses in Spain, the 'official' one and an obviously Spanish, bus turistic, not official. The routes cover much the same area unless you are after a cable car ride up the mountain, in which case you can use the latter. The official Hop on-Hop off bus, which we opted for, does land you near the cable car at the port, although it calls it a funicular. Now I've seen a few funiculars in my time (😉) and it is definitely a cable car.

A monk parrot at home.

My e-sim from Simcorner has been woeful since we arrived in Spain. It takes nothing for the speeds to slow down to snail pace. I'm going back to Holafly on the next trip. Maybe even before this trip concludes. The process over breakfast went like this: click on the App, put down the phone and wait for the page to load. Complete details on the page and click next. Put the phone down and wait for the page to load. Eventually I decided it might be better to be outside.

Gaudi house #3, the museum.

It was only marginally quicker and we needed to stop every few minutes to load the next page. Finally our 24 hour tickets arrived, with enough time to cover both routes and we set out for the pick up point which was near the second of the two Gaudi houses.

Barcelona's twin towers.

As it eventuated, the expected travel time was around 2 and half hours on each route. Traffic dependent, of course. We spoke to the attendant at the green route stop and he recommended walking around the corner and taking the orange route first. It had more stops and if you were to get on and off a few times it would take most of the day. This was more of an orienting excursion and we weren't planning on getting off, but we followed his advice.

The curved seating.

We were peacefully waiting at the orange stop with another couple when we were invaded by three American couples who disregarded that we were there first when the bus arrived. They pushed on and assumed the last vacant seats. I crouched in the vacant pram/wheelchair bay and Jayne stood in the aisle with some other late comers. The signage in the bus clearly stated, 'no standing'. Fortunately the next stop was the Sagrada Familia which cleared most of the bus, including the arrogant seat usurpers.

The curved seating and tower.

The orange route did indeed occupy the full two and half hours and I can assure you that seats became less comfortable as we travelled on. The commentary, which has been most informative on the Big Bus (not operating in Barcelona), made the offerings here look thin. We passed a number of significant buildings which were largely ignored - we still have no idea what they were. However, it did allow us to see around the beach area and pinpoint a few places we will visit in coming days.

The exit point. Hallelujah.

Returning to our original starting point, we walked around the corner to see a bus waiting at the green route stop. No time for a beer, we boarded and discussed the afternoon. The two major attractions were Parc Güell and the St Pau Recinte Modernista. Given St Pau was closer to home, we opted to drive by, impressive as it is, and continue on to the Parc. Unsurprisingly, it is a Gaudi design.

The gingerbread house.

The green route map shows the drop-off point on the edge of the park. Yeah nah. It was probably a 15 minute walk up a cliff face. Ok, a really, really steep street. We walked off the footpath to get around all the wheezing smokers. Did you know, dear reader, that smoking is bad for your health? This news is yet to make it to Switzerland, Slovenia, Croatia or Spain.

The Laundry Room portico.

It was nearing 4 pm by this stage and I mistakenly believed park entrance was free. Nope. Like every other attraction (gross exaggeration), the entry tickets are timed in 30 minute brackets. Jayne spoke to a man who was assisting people (sort of). Yes, tickets are required for entry. They must be purchased online. Now there was some important information I could have used earlier in the day. Entry tickets, basic, no audio guide, €13,50 each. We received a discount because we're old.

You can see the Sagrada from the park.

So, as multiple tour groups came and entered the park, which apparently limits how many people can be there in any one time slot, I once again played the excruciating waiting game with my e-sim to purchase the tickets online. Eventually, I secured a 4:30pm time slot but we decided to see how rigidly they were enforcing the time limits. They weren't and waved us straight in so we headed for the QR code sign to download the park walking map. Right next to the sign was another sign that pointed you towards, among other amenities, the Ticket Office! Let's get this straight - tickets could only be purchased online because you needed the tickets to get access to the ticket office? 

Hibiscus in the Austria Garden.

We squinted closely at the map to try to decide how best to navigate the various focal points - it was not very helpful so we decided to download the map. The QR code you were directed to was not a map but an App for Parc Güell. Another brilliant piece of misdirection. On another sign, well hidden from the one extolling you to download here for a great experience, was the QR code for the map of the park.

The pillars in the Hypostyle.

As we walked past the Gaudi house (number three) containing the museum, The App finally downloaded and provided a better map, at least with discernible information on it. The park itself was unremarkable except for its Gaudi houses and other structures. At this point, dear reader, I believe I reached peak Gaudi. It was inevitable. Despite his calming curves and waves, his gingerbread house, and fragments of reflected colour, the battle with the internet and crowds had washed over me like a tsunami. I was done. But not before we explored the last of the park. I wanted my money's worth. And a beer. Sadly there was none to be had behind the walls of Parc Güell.

The ceiling of the Hypostyle.

The view back across the city was quite spectacular and would certainly be a marvel at night. We walked the paths and climbed higher to see, well nothing, there was a building up there but it was not open to the public. We ticked off the list of attractions (not in order):the salamander fountain, the hypostyle room with its sloping pillars, the serpentine bench overlooking Barcelona, the Austria gardens and the laundry room portico. Done. That's it. No more Gaudi for me.

The salamander/dragon. People erased.

We exited the park between the gingerbread houses and looked for a sign back to the bus. Nope. Nothing. We walked up to the next gate. Back down there and turn left, we were told. At least we were heading downhill. Ah, an intersection and then another that was not calculated into the 'turn left' advice. However, we made the bus stop in time to watch not one, but two buses pull away from the kerb and stop in a traffic jam.

The grand staircase. There were a couple of people in my shot.

The next bus was only minutes away and when we alighted, it was most definitely beer time. It had been a long day. We were hot and tired and the beer was most welcome. My verdict on the park? Overpriced, overrated, overcrowded and over Gaudi.

Safely on the outside.

We had tapas for dinner, now there's a surprise, not as good as Ciutat Comtal but we stood no chance of getting in there.

Until next time.