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?