Spain took us by surprise. Despite a year’s worth of planning, researching online, reading books and watching Spanish food shows on TV, it turned out that the experience of this sensuous country could not be learned, it had to be felt.
Flying through the air with the greatest of ease. Or not.
After way too many hours flying through the air in a crowded aluminum tube, a sprint through the enormous Frankfurt airport to catch our connection, then more air time, Ted and I get off the plane in Barcelona, wonky and excited. We take a taxi to the apartment that we will share with 3 other couples, all friends we have known for years. Our cabbie speaks little English, and we try to communicate with our limited Spanish. His charm foretells the friendliness of people we will meet in weeks to come.
The Pod ABOVE PHOTO Left to right:
Top row-Wally and Chris
Middle row-Peggy and Marni
Bottom row-Ted, Shauna, Bob, Bart
Middle row-Peggy and Marni
Bottom row-Ted, Shauna, Bob, Bart
When people say, “All the world’s a stage”, Bob is a living example. A long-time creative force in the advertising biz, he’s truly one of the funniest men we know. If you’re familiar with the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, then Bob fits Calvin to a tee. Marni, formerly a model and artist rep, is an elegant, irreverent blonde with wicked smarts who keeps Bob on his toes (us too!).
Chris and Bart
Copper-haired Chris, affectionately called "Booty" (her last name is Boutee) an advertising copywriter turned book editor, is a master of one-liners delivered with a twinkle and a wry smile. Bart is a sweetheart of a guy. A recently retired railroad man, and fountain of martini knowledge (especially gin) he keeps us well-lubricated.
Shauna and Wally
Wally, a urologist in Utah and all around mensch, has hilarious stories about his practice in Mormon-ville — things you wouldn’t believe, and couldn’t make up if you tried. And Shauna. Do we love Shauna, or what?! Once a nurse (that’s how she met Wally), and an avid animal lover, she is truly one of those people who would give you the shirt off her back.
Peggy and Ted
Well ... if you're reading this blog ... you know us by now. ; D
Sound like a fun bunch?
You got that RIGHT!
Bram Stoker lived here.
Or at least it felt like he did. Months before our journey, when Chris saw the photos of our Barcelona apartment online, she dubbed it the “Dracula” apartment. It did have a mysterious vibe — complete with unexplained bumps and noises in the night. Oh. Could that be one of us trying to the find the bathroom in the "wee" hours after waaaay too much wine? Prolly.
Our first outing.
We all unpack, and drag our jet-lagged carcasses out into the night to find something to eat. Barcelona is ALIVE at night. Cars honking, people laughing, eating, drinking and having a helluva good time. None of us know where we we're going, but we're all hungry, so we stop at a neighborhood Taverna close by. We sit in the back room with a party of artsy, dread-locked bohos, celebrating a birthday with tapas and beer. The Birthday Queen had an unusually long face with huge (really huge!) black painted lips. Did we just walk into a Pedro Almodovar movie?
What jet lagged Pod People eat for their first meal in Barcelona at Taberna de la Ronda cerbeceria:
Estrella beer
White and Red wine
Tomato rubbed toast
Jamón
Octopus
Shrimp
Dinner was nice, simple, nuthin' to write home about, but amply filled the corners. Their Estrella light beer became a favorite throughout the trip. After dinner we decide to get groceries for the next few days, so off we go to an underground marketplace nearby where we pick up fruit, yogurt, bread, jam and Manchego (a salty sheep cheese.) Learning Curve! — Chris gets to the checkout counter and discovers that we are supposed to weigh and label the fruit before getting to the register. We are all exhausted and don’t want to go back to the scales, so we leave the fruit behind. No biggie. The call to bed is bigger than the call for pineapple.
Anyway...
Got “home” okay.
Put the groceries away.
Hit the hay.
Yay.
Sunday
Yawn. Big stretch. It’s morning and we are in Barcelona!
We enjoy a leisurely breakfast of fruit salad, yogurt, toast, Manchego and jam. The guys brew great coffee, it’s around noonish and we are ready to venture out.
Oh wait. Bart can’t find his wallet.
There is a big steel safe in the living room. It’s not there.
Searching, searching...
“Bart, is it in another pair of pants?”
“Bart, did it fall on the floor somewhere?”
“Bart, is it under the couch cushions maybe?”
Everyone is looking everywhere.
After a while Bart comes out of his bedroom.
He shrugs.
“Uh. Sorry guys. It was in my back pocket.”
Sunday
Yawn. Big stretch. It’s morning and we are in Barcelona!
We enjoy a leisurely breakfast of fruit salad, yogurt, toast, Manchego and jam. The guys brew great coffee, it’s around noonish and we are ready to venture out.
Oh wait. Bart can’t find his wallet.
There is a big steel safe in the living room. It’s not there.
Searching, searching...
“Bart, is it in another pair of pants?”
“Bart, did it fall on the floor somewhere?”
“Bart, is it under the couch cushions maybe?”
Everyone is looking everywhere.
After a while Bart comes out of his bedroom.
He shrugs.
“Uh. Sorry guys. It was in my back pocket.”
Las Ramblas
We decide to walk Las Ramblas to the coast. Las Ramblas is a beautiful tree-lined promenade mixed with lots of street-side cafés, bars, shops, souvenir kiosks, and historic buildings. We have been warned about pickpockets and are being careful.
A commotion catches our attention, and Shauna points to a high balcony.
“Hey! Look up there!”
Above us a voluptuous Marilyn Monroe look-alike waves and coos, her skirt undulating in a (fan-driven) wind. Huh? Waaait a minute. Her legs look a little too muscular and ... HAIRY! Marilyn is a GUY! We are suddenly on guard. Is he/she a distraction so pickpockets can do their work? No, no, Marilyn is just a living advertisement for a sex shop next door. Ooh La La! Laughing, we head on down the promenade to the ocean.
The sea air is breezy and the gentle sound of waves soothes and clears our heads. We all agreed it could easily be Hammock Time by the ocean, but we decide not to linger and go find some lunch. Wandering narrow back streets in the Barrio Gotic (old town), graffiti is everywhere. But not ordinary graffiti. Most of it is beautifully, artfully done in a graphic novel sort of style.
Bliss
Still on those back streets in the old part of town, Bob finds us a wonderful little tapas bar for lunch. Bliss.
That was the name of it. Bliss. And it was.
http://www.blissbarcelona.es/en/#
Food:
Paella, a good one!
Veal Carpaccio
Salad with prunes and tuna
Salad with mozzarella, sun-dried tomatos and tempanade
And of course, beer and wine.
After lunch, we wander back. A distant operatic voice echoes from narrow passageways. The song grows louder until we find ourselves in a small square with a Botero-like woman wrapped in a black shawl, belting out “O sole mio!” Across the square, a young tenor responds in harmony. Exquisito!
Music is everywhere here. And it’s GOOD music. In the main plaza in front of the Gothic Cathedral de Barcelona, an antique flea market lures us in. Off to the side, beautiful guitar playing provides a background soundtrack. Further down the road, a man sits on a rickety folding chair and plays “Lucia” like I’ve never heard before. Well, I’ve never actually heard that song before, but his singing is so soulful it felt like I’ve known it forever.
Restaurant Etapes
Okay, on to dinner. Earlier that day, Natalie, the manager for the Dracula apartment, recommended Etapes Restaurant which is walking distance. (http://www.restaurantetapes.com/?page_id=21&lang=en)
On our way, a light drizzle drifts down and by the time we are inside the restaurant, it is full-on raining. Strangely, at that moment, a rain-drenched pizza delivery guy stands on the threshold of the restaurant, trying to deliver pizza to someone inside. Huh? (Wrong address for sure!)
Dining at Etapes is delicious on lots of levels. Seated at a large square table in the front window, we enjoy (not a complete list):
Salad
Foie gras
Paella
Suckling Pig
Fresh Fish
Martini’s, cava and wine.
Dessert:
Pineapple soup
Red (berry) soup
Tiramisu
Mojito ice cream
Brandy
Didac
We are also treated to the very entertaining, Didac, partner in the restaurant and consummate story-teller. He tells us about working so hard at the restaurant last year that he had burnt out and become depressed. To help, his mother gave him a pill of some kind, but he didn’t like it. So he decided to go backpacking. Across Canada. In the dead of winter.
Bob and Wally are from Canada, and Shauna has spent a lot of time there, so when Didac began telling us about the towns he went through, they kept saying “Oh yeh, we know that town,” or “Oh sure! We lived there.”
Each acknowledgment fanned the flame of Didac’s story telling. You could see his thoughts coming so fast that his mouth could hardly keep up with them. Didac believed that his adventurous attitude is what kept him safe and moving to wherever he wanted to go. He eventually hooked up with a guy who had a specific model car (like a vintage ‘93 Dodge or something) that Didac had seen in a dream. He told the guy he wanted to go to Mexico where his girlfriend was, and the guy said, “Hmmmm. I always wanted to go to Mexico. Let’s go!” Off they went. By the time Didac met up with his girlfriend in Mexico he was no longer burnt out and depressed. He was ready to go back to Spain and back to work. Lucky for us he did!
Back at Dracula House
The rain stopped when we finished eating and were ready to leave. Perfect timing. At the apartment we get into our jammies, and sit around the big black coffee table talking. Coffee table talk unwinds us. Bonds us. Creates a sense of family. Earlier that day around that table, I told everyone about my “lazy” eye. If I look down, then look up, one lid doesn’t raise as quickly as the other, especially when I’m tired, so it sometimes looks like I’m winking at someone, when I’m not. I’m not aware of the condition, so it’s always surprising when someone is winking back at me.
Why am I telling you this? Well it’s now past 1:30 in the morning and we’re all still table talking. Bob turns to me and says, “You know that eye thing you told us about? Well BOTH eyes are winking now!”
We decide to walk Las Ramblas to the coast. Las Ramblas is a beautiful tree-lined promenade mixed with lots of street-side cafés, bars, shops, souvenir kiosks, and historic buildings. We have been warned about pickpockets and are being careful.
“Hey! Look up there!”
Above us a voluptuous Marilyn Monroe look-alike waves and coos, her skirt undulating in a (fan-driven) wind. Huh? Waaait a minute. Her legs look a little too muscular and ... HAIRY! Marilyn is a GUY! We are suddenly on guard. Is he/she a distraction so pickpockets can do their work? No, no, Marilyn is just a living advertisement for a sex shop next door. Ooh La La! Laughing, we head on down the promenade to the ocean.
Still on those back streets in the old part of town, Bob finds us a wonderful little tapas bar for lunch. Bliss.
That was the name of it. Bliss. And it was.
http://www.blissbarcelona.es/en/#
Food:
Paella, a good one!
Veal Carpaccio
Salad with prunes and tuna
Salad with mozzarella, sun-dried tomatos and tempanade
And of course, beer and wine.
Okay, on to dinner. Earlier that day, Natalie, the manager for the Dracula apartment, recommended Etapes Restaurant which is walking distance. (http://www.restaurantetapes.com/?page_id=21&lang=en)
On our way, a light drizzle drifts down and by the time we are inside the restaurant, it is full-on raining. Strangely, at that moment, a rain-drenched pizza delivery guy stands on the threshold of the restaurant, trying to deliver pizza to someone inside. Huh? (Wrong address for sure!)
Salad
Foie gras
Paella
Suckling Pig
Fresh Fish
Martini’s, cava and wine.
Dessert:
Pineapple soup
Red (berry) soup
Tiramisu
Mojito ice cream
Brandy
We are also treated to the very entertaining, Didac, partner in the restaurant and consummate story-teller. He tells us about working so hard at the restaurant last year that he had burnt out and become depressed. To help, his mother gave him a pill of some kind, but he didn’t like it. So he decided to go backpacking. Across Canada. In the dead of winter.
Each acknowledgment fanned the flame of Didac’s story telling. You could see his thoughts coming so fast that his mouth could hardly keep up with them. Didac believed that his adventurous attitude is what kept him safe and moving to wherever he wanted to go. He eventually hooked up with a guy who had a specific model car (like a vintage ‘93 Dodge or something) that Didac had seen in a dream. He told the guy he wanted to go to Mexico where his girlfriend was, and the guy said, “Hmmmm. I always wanted to go to Mexico. Let’s go!” Off they went. By the time Didac met up with his girlfriend in Mexico he was no longer burnt out and depressed. He was ready to go back to Spain and back to work. Lucky for us he did!
The rain stopped when we finished eating and were ready to leave. Perfect timing. At the apartment we get into our jammies, and sit around the big black coffee table talking. Coffee table talk unwinds us. Bonds us. Creates a sense of family. Earlier that day around that table, I told everyone about my “lazy” eye. If I look down, then look up, one lid doesn’t raise as quickly as the other, especially when I’m tired, so it sometimes looks like I’m winking at someone, when I’m not. I’m not aware of the condition, so it’s always surprising when someone is winking back at me.
G'nite y'all! (wink, wink)
(Next day ... Next blog ...It's coming...)
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