El Ultimo Dia (The Last Day): Barri Gotic, No Me Moleste, and Pinchos

I woke this morning and my feet tried to convince me to stay in the room all day. 'Ignore the feet,' cried my brain. I like my brain. It's served me well. Far be it from me to upset it this far into our relationship. Off to the Barri Gotic (The Gothic Neighborhood).

The ruins are under this Cathedral

The Gothic Neighborhood is legitimately the original Barcino, the port city set up by the Carthaginians and more tribal people before that. This city is old. The Romans put up city walls to protect it and at that point, it started to become a commercial hub. The remains of the city had been lost until about 50 years ago when an excavation crew laying attempting to lay a foundation for a building discovered buried ruins underneath the neighborhood. After reading that in the guide book I knew I had to go to these ruins under the streets of Barcelona. I'm glad I did.

OK, I didn't take a ton of pictures because I forgot to. The audio guide was free (a rarity) and good (another rarity). Basically, what was discovered was a bunch of workshops (laundry, fish sauce maker, wine maker) and a Roman bath. I can only imagine how much this neighborhood must have stank.


The most interesting tidbit I'm walking away with is that it was common for a Roman laundry to set up amphorae (large jugs) outside of the establishment for people to urinate in. The urine would be dried and the ammonia used as a cleaning agent. Brilliant! I wonder if my local launder would entertain some 2000 yr old technology.

Not too far from the underground ruins was an uncovered synagogue that shut down in 1391 during a pogrom. I'm interested in the Spanish Inquisition and thought I'd pick up some new knowledge. For 2.5 euros the space is unimpressive. It's 2 cellar sized rooms and nothing remains to indicate its original use. The guy who discovered it in the 1980s somehow recognized this basement for what it was and had it excavated, wherein the remains of the synagogue were discovered.

What I learned is that the city had the largest Jewish population in Spain at the time of the pogrom and after many Jews were killed, the rest either fled or converted to Catholicism and continued to practice in secret. The Inquisition didn't really effect Barcelona too much since the bulk of the Jewish population was nary to be found. She did tell the story of one woman, the mother-in-law of the family who owned the present site, who was the first Jew in Barcelona to be burned for heresy during the Inquisition. Sad.

St. Luis Obispo de Toulouse

 Down the street is the Frederic Mares Museum which the BCN pass would get me into for free and the guide book described as a cabinet of curiosities. This place was awesome. I spent about 2 hours just poking around in the 4 story museum. Mares was a local artist and wealthy guy who spent time collecting things. He didn't just pick up this thing or that thing. No. He collected tens of thousands of things and it was never enough to have one of something. This guy had OCD. I've never seen so many Jesus' on the cross in one place. Mind you, he bought originals and thanks to him many priceless works of art and artifacts were saved from who knows what fate.



I noticed the name Sant Bisbe by a lot of the statue and wondered it was Catalan for San Obispo, or Saint Bishop. A quick Google Translate confirmed by hunch. This is the guy for whom my home town is named. Very cool.

Mares also collected medieval weapons. He has flintlocks pistols, shields, armor, swords, crossbows (notice the crank at the bottom left of that crossbow picture), a large collection of arquebus (original rifles without the rifling... pre-musket).



Why have one when you can have 20? This guy would go mental at Comic Con.

Re-creation of his personal library. Now this guys knows how to build a gaming room. Yes, please.

I was going to hit up the Picasso Museum next but I was done. My knees, thighs, and feet were begging me to comply with their demands. I decided to give them a rest at a cafe and see if lunch would make them feel better. No dice. They were set on walking back north to do some shopping and taking a nap.

This toothless guys playing terrible harmonica strolled by looking for tips. I waved him off and then he went to bug these ladies. The lady at the far seat was really irritated at him and cried out "No me moleste" (don't bother me) and eventually restaurant staff had to come out and chase him off. She and I shared a laugh about it a few minutes later. It's funny moments like this you just don't get in a museum or on a tour bus.

Shopping ensued, I discovered some incredible chocolate, and went back to the room to take a nap. With the nap done it was time for dinner. A place named Lizarran is right down the street from my hotel and it looked inviting. Their specialty is pinchos, a traditional Spanish style of finger food different from tapas in that it is already prepared and you just take what you want and pay for it later. The price depended on the size of the pincho (spear) in the food. We need this at home. I'm convinced we do pub food wrong at home. This is exactly how it should be done. Every couple of minutes the bell would ring in the kitchen and the waiter would walk around with a fresh selection of hot pinchos. I loved that waiter. He never ceased to surprise me.

I had more than just these three pinchos. My favorite was the guacamole, egg, and anchovy followed closely by the sirloin and cheese. A perfect last dinner in Spain. I'll miss the food here.

Look at all of those pinchos.

Day 4: The Correct Map, Museums Are Open, and an Evening Stroll.

The correct bus. I sat downstairs.

The approach

Now that the whole map thing was settled, I hopped on board the Blue line and set out for the Monastir de Pedrables bright and early. My plan was to be the first one in at 10am and my plan came together beautifully. It's pretty far from the city the center but when we drove past yesterday, I was intrigued. Built in the 1100s, it has the look of something old and sacred. While most of it is a museum and tourist attraction nowadays, parts of it still function. A nun gave me a nice smile when we walked past one another.

The gardens inside. Operational since the 1100s. The nuns grow healing herbs all throughout.

There were many cool things to see in the monastery. During the Spanish Civil War it became a repository for many works of art in hopes they would be protected and hidden from Franco's bombers. They were but as a result the church fell into disuse since it filled up with crates and other things.

I was blown away by these choir books. They're HUGE. I put my hand in the shot to try and give some relative size but I don't think the photo does it justice. To use them you need these special stands.

Is this place trying to send me a message?

I spent about 90 minutes taking in all of the artwork and pathways I could take. It reminded me a lot of the Shrine of Rumi in Konya with the rooms set up as they would have been when in use and explanations of daily life. I did have to laugh when I went into the refectory and saw this on the wall: Considera Morientem, or consider the death. I know it was talking about Jesus but come on... that's a bit much to deal with when trying to relax.


Back on the bus to the Palau Reial de Pedrables (Royal Palace). The guide book advertised a tour of the palace and a separate museum dedicated to royal and noble fashion. Seemed like a good thing to take in and it was the next stop on the bus. Yeah... closed. They were setting up for some concert or some such. I did tour the grounds, which were peaceful and beautiful, but left museum-less. I did find the Hercules statue design by Gaudi. Bonus!

The spigot is designed to look like a dragon. Gaudi sure loved his dragons.

Since Camp Nou, the home of FC Barcelona was next one the route I similarly decided to hop off and see what I could see.

The first thing I saw was 22 euros for a tour. Lou Ferrigno has been unable to get $20 from me for an autograph for years and I wasn't about to let Barca win that battle. I asked the security guard if I could go through the gate and take a few pictures and he said I would have to buy a ticket. He was wrong. All I had to do was walk through the official merchandise store 3 stories, by the way, and there I was.

I hung out for a few, took some photos, had lunch, bought some souvenirs, and headed to the next destination.


Next stop: the National Art Museum of Catalunya (MNAC) and today it was open. I loves me a good art museum and despite half of the museum being closed for who know what reason, the Medieval and Renaissance exhibitions were open. OK, I'm sure most of you aren't into art like I am so I won't post copious pictures of incredible pieces. I will however pause to talk about the frescoes.

The medieval frescoes painted 600 to 1000 were beginning to suffer water, smoke, and age damage so through an incredible process, some geniuses figured out how to remove the frescoes from the chapel and apse walls and remount them in this museum. What they done here is essentially recreate these small medieval chapels and put the frescoes exactly where they belong. It's amazing.





To think that these works of art were once painted onto the walls of places hundreds of miles away is a real mind blower. It really did feel like I was into and out of many different chapels. They paid attention to so many architectural details to get it all right. I'll repeat, these are the original frescoes, not recreations.

The stoning of Saint Steven

Lots and lots of artwork to take in. I now have a lot of examples to show the students when we get to Medieval Romanesque and Gothic artwork as well as the Renaissance. Works by famous artists were all over the place. I loved it.





I really wanted to see the Joan Miro museum. I can't explain why as I'm not the biggest fan of his work but since my city pass got me in for free and it was on the way, I figured why not. Oh... funny story. While I decided to pass on the Olympic Stadium tour I noticed a bunch of young girls camped out for One Direction tickets. Hard core. The tickets don't go on sale for another day or so.


So back to the Joan Miro museum. He's a modernist, a dadaist, and a surrealist. I'd love to show you pictures but the girl at the ticket booth was kind enough to say "no foto". All in all, much of it looked like scribbles and homages to penises and vaginas. Up on the roof there was a distinct lack of guards so I snapped an illegal picture of a this statue to the left. Interesting enough.


The one on the right is an autobiographic piece. Looks like something from a Pixar film... with a penis.


My feet were beat so it was back to the hotel to freshen up and figure out some dinner. Around the corner from me is La Bodegueta, a restaurant all of the locals I worked with told me to be sure to go to. Well, it's on the same block as me so why wouldn't I? I was not disappointed. I chose to eat inside rather than at the outdoor tables on the Las Ramblas.

The doorway is under that watch sign and it was exactly the type of place I was looking for. Dark, locals, smelled amazing, and had a seat at the counter with my name on it. I ordered in Spanish and the woman was kind enough to correct my pronunciation. I'm so used to the "ll" sound in Spanish being a "y" but in Catalan, it's a hard "L". ENough of that... check out how my evening wound down.

I ordered the pork salami and she cut it right there in front of me.

Beer, tomato bread (served everywhere here), salami, and a nice plate of anchovies. I was in heaven.

Day 3: Museums, Sightseeing, and the Wrong Map

Enjoy that title.

Today I set off to Montjuic, the mountain near BCN airport that was heavily used during the '92 Olympics, but first... I wanted to buy the bus pass for Bus Touristic. This is a "Hop On, Hop Off" style of bus, double decker, and I was recommended to me by a number of people to get a good lay of the land. I had been given a flier yesterday by some street hawker and it looked good! So 35 Euros later I had purchased a 2-Day pass and was ready to indeed, Hop On and/or Hop Off. (Editors note: I did not actually Hop). Note to fellow travelers: take the seat near the stairway. No one sits in front of you!

I got on the red line which on my map was colored orange, and enjoyed the view. The streets are constantly packed with cars, buses, and scooters but it all flows so naturally. In Boston you'd have honking horns, wagging fingers, and angry epithets enough to make Tony Soprano blush, but not here. Honestly, I'd be terrified to drive here. I can't figure any of it out... but good for the locals.


As the bus toured, it sadly didn't stop in very good placed for pictures. The good picture spots were always like 20 feet in front of us. I couldn't help but notice the graffiti on these containers advertising both the Independence Referendum set to be voted on in November and the taxi strike set to take place some time this week over the use of Uber. Just my luck, it'll be on the 3rd when I'm scheduled to depart.




The bus arrived at Plaça d'Espanya and this monument really impressed me. Built in 1929 it was meant to serve as the gateway to an exposition. Hmmm... looking at that name reminds me. Catalan is quite different from Spanish. The weird c is a "sh" sound and notice no ñ in Espanya. It reminds me of a couple of my Spanish speaking students who kept spelling words with the ñ this way. Maybe the Catalan people are on to something less confusing?

 The benefits of being married to an amazing woman with a degree in architecture is that she's introduced me to, and schooled me in, some of the world's coolest architects. At Montjuïc there is a pavilion originally built by Meis van der Rohe, one of the founders of modern architecture. It was built in 1929, torn down, and reconstructed in the 1980s.  I've been schooled in why simplistic style is best and I agree... this pavilion was cool. Simple, yet cool.

I got yelled at for sitting on the forward most chair. Seriously people... put a sign up.

I really dug this reflecting pool. Incredibly peaceful.

Other side of the pool looking in. I thought that lady in black would yell at me again but she was unimpressed with me.

Just inside the pavilion. Beware those chairs, my friends.

Across the street is the Caixa Forum, a museum and heavily utilized cultural center. It was once an Art Nouveau factory that was abandoned and converted into a concert type venue. I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside (an unposted reality I discovered after being scolded by a security guard). A shame because there was an avant garde art exhibit going on which caused me to rethink my previous position on avant garde. Perhaps there is meaning to those films after all. I was allowed to take pictures of the roof and the former employee spaces. You'd never know this was a factory.

This is the roof. I want a roof like this.

I left there and made the trek up the hill to Poble Espanyol, said to be a tour of all of Spain in one hour because it contains full recreations of famous Spanish architectural landmarks. Pretty cool. I did not expect it to be full of cafes, shops, and a concert venue. Apparently the locals utilize it quite heavily but at 10 Euros per entry, I don't see why/how. There must be some locals only entry that I was not privy to.

My view as I enjoyed lunch. Hard to believe these are recreations.

I got goofy excited when I saw this in a knick-knack store. They have an actual Gutenberg Press just sitting there. It went with nothing in the store, was not in use, and was just plain awesome. I wonder how many tourists look at it and move on, unaware of just how incredible this thing is. The press changed the world and here is was in some gift shop. I snuck a few pictures before the sales girl could catch me.

The only real story I have from the Poble Espanyol is that I spoke only Spanish the whole time I was there. I apparently convinced the girl at the ticket booth that I knew what I was doing because she gave me the guide book in Spanish. The Americans in front of me got one in English. I ordered my lunch in Spanish which was fun. The cool thing is that I needed a corkscrew for the bottle of Sempro Tempranillo I was given while leaving the Hotel Arts. With the exception of the word "corkscrew" I conducted an entire conversation in Spanish with a lady in a wine shop in order to buy one. I understand far more than I can speak. The lady helped me find the cheapest one in the store (under 5 euros) and started to tell me all about her cousin who was a professor of history at a university in town and he'd love to give me a tour of the city if I had time. She gave me his business card and then asked me for mine but I had left them all in my hotel room. Feel some validation there, Hovey.

Next on my list was MNAC, the National Art Museum of Catalunya. Beautiful. You can see it from almost anywhere in the city. I couldn't wait to get inside and spend a couple of hours seeing 1,000 years art.



It was closed. Monday... closed. All of those stairs for a closed museum.



No worries... I'll walk down the hill to the Ethnographic Museum.

Closed. Renovations.

At this point things got dicey. My map wasn't all that great as far as showing routes through the park. I could kind of see where I needed to go in order to get to the next museum list on my list, the Fundacio Joan Miro. Down the hill I went.

I successfully got all the way down to the Joan Miro Museum to pleasantly discover that it, too, was closed. Monday. To quote my friend Joel, "Hijo de la chingada". I was nowhere near a bus stop in order to Hop On. To get to one meant going up... and up... and up.

See this stairway? A small sample of what I was privileged to enjoy. I was so glad Holly wasn't with me to yell at me. I got lost going up and had to track down a security guard to help me. She spoke only Spanish and told me how to get where I needed to go. "Arriba" my friends!

Yay, I finally got to a bus stop. Incredibly winded, thirsty, hungry, and a touch cranky. Next stop... leave the park and it's closed museums and go the Christopher Columbus statue down near the harbor. He stopped here in 1493 so they commemorated his arrival. He's pointing to Genoa, Italy, not America. Apparently the guy couldn't wait to get back home.

My city pass got me to the top. There is a tiny elevator that takes you up to an incredibly cramped observation deck. If I had paid 4 euros to take the elevators, I'd have been pissed. I snapped a few pictures of the city (none of which I'm going to post) and went back down.

I found Christopher Columbus. Drop some coins in his jar and he'll let you take a selfie!

Now I was hungry. One of my Cal Poly observers told me about a place called Bo de B and had marked its location on my map. It wasn't too far from the Columbus monument so off I went. I found it after walking down a shady alleyway (some dude on a bicycle was eerily following me) and went inside. Nothing on the menu appealed to me. I went back outside and right next door was a Turkish restaurant that served lahmacun, the Turkish street food I so desperately craved in Turkey thanks to Anthony Bourdain's review. While it was different than the one I had in Istanbul, it hit the spot nicely.

Last stop: the Bus Touristic. I figured I'd wind down the afternoon taking the green line to see the northern part of the city. I found a stop north of me and wait. The first bus was too full so I awaited the next one. Got on only to discover it was the wrong tourist bus. I had been waiting for the Barcelona City Tour. The lady told me to go across the street to my bus. I thought something was weird as I was looking for the green line and she was pointing me to the blue line. My map had no blue line. No matter... perhaps the maps lose their color or something.

I got on the blue with no trouble, despite it not being green, and took the sweet seat by the stairwell down. I had the map open next to me in order to follow along. The bus actually has a plug in and listen guided tour that plays more music than it does narrate. Something was wrong. This bus was not making the same turns that the map showed it was going to. I wasn't too worried as I knew eventually it would head back to Plaça de Catalunya, but still, what kind of tourist bus just up and
changes routes? Meh. Well, it totally skipped the hospital we were supposed to look at. Mhm... something was wrong. Well, what was wrong was me. That map the street hawker had given me yesterday was the route map for the Barcelona City Tour, not the Bus Touristic. I facepalmed and got out the map they gave me when I bought the ticket that I didn't think I needed because 'I already had one'. Moron.

On the way back to the hotel a young woman was being serenaded by a group of musicians. Everyone around stopped, stared, and applauded when the young man got on his knee and proposed. A great ending to the day.

I don't know if grabbing her butt was appropriate but she said yes so what do I know?