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.