Wednesday, 24 September

Today was our Moderniste/Gaudí day and Barceloneta beach day. First, we walked to the bullring, then to the Sagrada Familia. Wow. They have been building it on donations (entrance fees and other donors) for 100 years or more! It was cool to see the symbolism of the supporting pillars inside (12 apostles, diocese of Spain, tallest and center post is Christ), difference between the realism of the Nativity and early life of Christ on one side of the church and the angular sharpness of the Passion on the opposite entrance. I didn’t realize that Gaudí got most of his architectural ideas—especially structurally—from nature. Trees, leaves, polygons, web-like fibers from plant matter…it’s all very innovative.

By the time we finished at Sagrada Familia, it was mid-day and time for lunch (good pizza) and a ATM stop. We saw Casa Milá, Casa Batlló and other Moderniste houses (row houses/apartment buildings). I enjoyed the whimsy, the ornamentation, and the bright (blue, red, yellow) colors.

At the Uquinoana stop, we got on the metro to go to the beach. I loved seeing all the boats at the marina and the sailboats off the coast enjoying the Mediterranean breeze. When a midway-type amusement park blocked our way beside the docks we moved closer to the street to browse the street vender’s stalls. It was like a hippy sale. I bought a wrap-around skirt that I am very excited to wear. Once in front of the beach, Amy and I sat down to share some cookies we bought at a convenience/grocery store. I don’t know why, but I kept calling the Mediterranean Sea the ocean, much to Amy’s chagrin. After eating, we rolled up our pants and removed our shoes to wade in the sea (not ocean). Amy’s pants (or so she said) promised her they would stay dry. Ha! Jeans take (and took) a long time to dry. I got pictures of Amy with her feet in the surf smiling nicely, but in the pictures of me, I was shrieking from the shock of the water. I tried to look lady-like and smile, I promise!

For supper, I scouted out a bar with typical tapas and something for Amy. It was a tiny place that perhaps could have held 15 patrons, and we were the only tourists cozily scrunched in with the rest of the patrons. By the time we finished eating, it was getting dark, so we left the narrow streets of the old fishing neighborhood of Barceloneta and walked to the populated dock-side sidewalks. The lights on the festival rides lit up the night and people milled around the venders, sweet shops, and wine tasting tents. The festival mood continued as we rambled down Las Ramblas, a street with street venders, where we eventually stopped for a treat.

As the finale to the Merce Festival (in honor of patron saint of Barcelona, there were fireworks in the Plaça de Espanya. The subway getting there was bursting at the seams, but once there we were able to find seats on the grass in the shadow of the huge monument in the middle of the circle. Coincidentally, a couple that we had met in Segovia recognized us and we chatted a bit. I also saw a young man that was on the plane to Barcelona with us. Right as the fountain show was beginning, those sitting closer began to stand for a better view. “¡Ya se siente! ¡Ya se siente!” We shouted to no avail, trying to shame those blocking our view into sitting down. Amy and I could see the fireworks, but not the fountain show. One young man volunteered to be our guide, announcing the fountain’s progress. “Ahora, sale rojo…ahora amarillo…” (now it’s red, now yellow…) I duly translated for Amy, though I don’t think it was necessary. Surprisingly the metro back to our stop was uncrowded. We were scared since Amy had gotten stuck in the metro in D.C. once after the fireworks due to overcrowding.