When asked, the majority of people I've encountered have said that Barcelona is their favorite city in Spain, for some their favorite city in Europe. After spending the weekend there, it is certainly easy to see why: picture a modern city with not-so-modern architecture located right on the water, with historical significance, a bustling nightlife, and the best food we've had since being abroad. It's enough to make you want to buy an "I <3>
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
In the Battle between Andalucian and Catalonian food, Catalunia emerged victorious
We booked our flight over a month ago, when we first got here, and didn't realize that this past weekend was actually a 3-day one on account of President's Day. As a result, we only booked our tickets until Sunday. Fortunately, it still gave us plenty of time to sight-see, and we didn't feel rushed to get the week started right when we got back. Elliot took leave Friday, and our flight was at 1:45. Sevilla Airport isn't on the train or metro lines (bummer), so we had to drive and park our sweet Euro ride in the garage for two days. Next time we fly, we are definitely getting a ride due to parking costing 13 euro a day: a euro less than a one-way flight on Ryan Air to put it in perspective. Since we were coming back on a Sunday, we didn't want to inconvenience anyone on the 3-day weekend, so we had to cough up the mega moolah to park. We got in line at the Ryan Air kiosk behind this massive group of high-school students who were going on some sort of class trip to Barcelona. After waiting for a good 30 minutes while they checked their baggage and double-checked their itinerary, we got to the front of the line... only to find out that we were in the wrong one. Since we only brought backpacks as carry-ons, we only had to get our passports checked at another kiosk. This time we didn't have to wait behind a bunch of excited teenagers, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Security in European airports is a lot more relaxed than it is back in the States. A few British people saw us taking off our shoes and asked the TSA agents, "Umm, do we have to take off our shoes?" God bless the USA. We zipped through security in no time and got in a European-style line (basically a cluster of people) to board our flight. We actually ran into one of Elliot's co-workers who was heading to Barcelona, and he sat next to us on the plane. I felt like an ass because he had said that "we were staying at this place"; I asked if his wife was joining him and found out that no, she had asked him for a divorce last week. Ouch. He was using the trip to Barcelona as a "bachelor party" with his buddy from Germany. After he explained the story, it sounded like they weren't completely over, so I'm kinda thinking that he was taking a moment of frustration for her and turning it into an opportunity to go wild for him. Whatev; not my business.
When we landed at Girona-Costa Brava airport, we had to take the Barcelona Bus to the station in the city center of Barcelona, about an hour away. It was about 20 euro per person, round-trip, so it still ended up being cheaper than flying into Barcelona proper. It was a smooth ride, and both El and I nodded off for a bit before we got to the bus station.
Now, the European calendar starts on a Monday, and I am still not used to this, thus causing a bit of a dilemma Thursday night. When we were getting our things together for the trip, Elliot noticed that our hostel nights were from 2/19-2/21 (Saturday-Monday). Uhhh, we were getting there on Friday and leaving on Sunday. I called the hostel, and while we were able to cancel Sunday's room, we had to keep Saturday's or lose our money on account of the lack of 2-day notice. The woman I spoke to was super nice and called around to different hostels in the area to see if there was availability. She called me back and said that since she couldn't find anything, we were more than welcome to stay with her and her husband at their house down the street. I was blown away by her generosity, but Elliot and I didn't want to impose on her and her husband. We ended up booking a hotel for the night right by Les Rambles (the main walkway in Barcelona). It was pretty no frills, but they did have a free breakfast buffet in the morning, and you just can't beat that.
After checking in to the hotel and seeing that we had Dick Van Dyke twin beds (including one that had a lamp about 3 inches above the mattress), we dropped off our stuff and decided to walk around Barcelona. We headed towards the Port and walked down the boardwalk and along the water for about an hour. We were fortunate enough to see the sunset over a port filled with sailboats; it was one of those moments when you're just in awe of how beautiful the world can be. We encountered a few random sculptures, including one of a giant lobster with a smiling cartoon face, at which we both burst out with "ROCK LOBSTER!" What a classic song that doesn't get nearly enough airplay. We headed back towards the area our hotel was in to see if we could find a good place to eat dinner. We stopped at an Irish pub along the way and got some nachos to tide us over. It has been forever since I've had nachos and man, were they goooooood. Alas, you have to go to an Irish pub in Spain in order to get good Mexican food.
The one thing that I loved the most about Barcelona was how the city just comes alive at night. There are just tons of people walking around everywhere, on the main roads and side alleys. It seemed that everywhere we turned, we found another side street lined with antique shops, boutiques, cafes, cervecerias, and pastry shops. We counted no less than three H & M stores and 3 El Corte Ingles department stores (Spain's version of Macy's). We wandered for at least 2 hours, and I don't think there was a stretch longer than five minutes where we didn't walk past all sorts of shops. We stumbled out of an alley to discover a big marketplace, where they were selling all sorts of breads, spices, veggies, fruit, desserts, and little trinkets. At 9pm. It's amazing how the night gets started so much later here in Europe. Walking through the different side streets allowed us to see the different religious shrines that are erected at the street corners. Although the Catholic Church's presence has been declining in Spain over recent years, the majority of the population is still very religiously devout as evidenced by the number of churches and cathedrals in Spain.
Les Rambles is a wide walking street that is lined with vendors peddling flowers, ice cream, souvenirs, and the like. The sky is lit up with these little flying, whirly things that play Happy Birthday and sound like a kazoo (people were selling them). You also encounter of a number of street performers, such as "The Hovering Man", "The Gold Man", and "The Invisible Man", all appearing like their names suggest. You have be careful around these performers, however, because they tend to have side-kicks who pickpocket the gathered crowd. Les Rambles ends at the Plaza de Catalunya and has a vibrant energy that is hard to imagine exists elsewhere.
By this point, we were starting to get pretty hungry, so we went into the first restaurant that looked like it would have a decent menu. First off, it must have been 100 degrees in that place. Second, their menu did not look all that appealing. We ended up just ordering a few drinks, some bread, sausage, and patatas bravas, and then planned on leaving. The patatas bravas that we're used to consists of french fries covered in a spicy red sauce. That must be an Andalucian thing, because Catalonian patatas bravas use mayonnaise in their sauce. I don't consider myself too picky of an eater, but I've got this weird thing about white condiments: they gross me out. Needless to say, you will not see me ingesting mayonnaise, sour cream, cream cheese, or Ranch dressing (although I do like blue cheese). If I get it in my mind that a dish includes an ingredient from that list, I get cautious and don't tend to like that food. It's a psychological thing, I know, but I guess it's better that I don't like that stuff, as it tends to have more fat and calories. As a result of spying mayonnaise on my french fries, I ate the ones on the outskirts. We left the restaurant after paying a whopping 32 euro for our drinks, a basket of bread, 2 mini sausages (think breakfast sausage link size), and potatoes with mayo. Our disenchantment with dining out was only worsening.
We spotted a sports bar that was cleverly named "Sports Bar" and just decided to eat a quick bite there. We ended up splitting a chicken breast sandwich (it was ok) and chicken tenders (they were ok). We paid a much more reasonable price for this meal and finished our night at the Wild Turkey Pub across the street from our hotel. The pub was basically a little hole in the wall joint that catered to the British ex-pats who are die-hard rugby fans. Fortunately for them, a rugby match was just starting so we got to indulge a little with that sport. It was then and there, in the Wild Turkey Pub, that I decided rugby would be my European sport. I came to this decision for several reasons:
1) I don't like soccer, and you still get some street cred if you like rugby
2) It is a lot like football
3) Rugby players have strong legs and show them off in those short shorts (clearly a reason Elliot doesn't condone)
I guess you're supposed to pour Belgium beer a certain way, and if you pour it like a normal beer, you will get about 4 inches of head. Not knowing this, I poured my beer like I would a normal one. Mistake. The bartender jokingly made fun of me for it, to which I didn't take offense. She must have felt bad though, because she poured me and Elliot a round of shots. Good way to end the night. Free= great.
After drifting off to sleep and Elliot having to avoid cracking his noggin on the lamp above his bed, we woke up and hit up the breakfast buffet downstairs. It was a pretty nice little spread, considering it was a small hotel. They had all sorts of deli meats and cheeses, Spanish tortilla (kind of like a potato omelette), eggs, peppers, cereals, and bread for toast. We ate enough to get energized, gathered up our things, and headed to our hostel to check in. On the way, we stopped at Dunkin' Coffee and I was able to have my first taste of glory since we left DC. Unfortunately, my hopes were shattered by the different taste the coffee had. It wasn't bad; it just wasn't the same. As we all know, you can't change a perfect thing such as Dunkin'. I'm not gonna lie, I was kind of disappointed and vowed to never get so hyped up by a familiar light-up sign again.
The hostel was about a 5 minute walk from the Plaza de Catalunya, so we weren't too far from where our hotel was located. The girl at the desk recommended that we visit the Sagrada Familia in the morning, as the lines get insane towards the afternoon. Heeding her advice, we headed in that direction. It was about a 10 minute walk, and the line was already around the corner when we got there at 10:15. Since this is what everyone had said to be sure to see when we visited Barcelona, we got in line and waited our turn. The wait wasn't bad at all, and we were able to get into the temple in about 30 minutes. The Sagrada Familia was the brainchild and unfinished masterpiece of the Catalonian architect, Gaudi, and was his dedication to the city of Barcelona. It's a very impressive site from the outside and is surprisingly modern on the inside. The building is still under construction, despite being started in the late 1800's. Apparently, Gaudi became a recluse while it was being built, and spent 16 years living at the site until his death. He is buried in the crypt in the Sagrada Familia, but we didn't get a chance to see if grave. The building is very beautiful and was neat to see, but Elliot and I didn't think it was worth paying 11 euro to get in to; we would have been fine just taking pictures from the outside. There really isn't much to see on the inside compared to the Catedral de Sevilla, so anything after that would have been a bit of a let-down (well, maybe except for cathedrals in France or the Sistine Chapel). Lesson learned, and at least we got to experience it.
After the Sagrada Familia, we ended up playing uber-tourist and got tickets to take the Bus Tour around the city. We had heard it was the best way to see everything in a day, so it was a good investment for us. We had to wait a bit to get seats on top of the double-decker bus, but it was definitely worth the wait. The bus drove us through the city center where we saw all sorts of different buildings by Gaudi, one of which was my favorite in all of Barcelona. It just looked like a wedding cake; you can see it in my Facebook album (amongst other pictures). We had the world's most uncomfortable headphones in our ears, and I recommend that people use their own headphones if they are doing on of those tours in the future. We had a lovely English chap give us the play by play as we drove around the city center and headed towards the Park Montjuic and the site of the 1992 Olympics.
We got off at the Park Montjuic and took some pictures of the statue inspired by the Olympic torch and the inside of the Olympic Stadium. We walked along the road and passed by the Olympic Museum, where there are shoe prints on the sidewalk of many of the Olympic athletes, including MJ. Considering this was the first Olympics I actually remembered, I had to get my picture taken with his shoe print. I think it was around Olympics time when they came out with the Michael Jordan Special at McDonald's in Chicago: quarter pound burger with bbq sauce, bacon, and onion. I wish they still made that thing, as it was just aces.
We hopped back on our bus and headed back towards the port we walked around the night before. It was around 2pm at this point, so we decided to stop and have a Spanish lunch before we went to the Picasso Museum. We found a place called Lonja de Tapas and had an amazing lunch: sundried tomatoes, artichokes, and mushrooms covered with olive oil and pesto, a potato and cheese omelette, cheese chunks in olive oil and spices, chicken skewers in soy sauce and sesame seeds, potato meatballs with a marinara and yogurt sauce, and pan con tomate, a Catalonian staple. It's basically grilled sourdough bread that is covered in tomato pulp and drizzled with olive oil and sea salt. IT IS DELICIOUS. Everything at lunch was delicious, and we were so happy to get a meal out that we really enjoyed. It's been awhile for that, so we were very pleased with ourselves.
After the lunch of the heavens, we walked down the street to the Picasso Museum. Since Picasso was from Malaga, the largest museum dedicated to him is there, but this one was pretty impressive. It basically featured work from every period in his career, including when he was a young boy. You are just in awe of how talented he really was, and there were several paintings that Elliot and I really enjoyed, including the Paseo de Colon and Las Meninas (after Velazquez). They didn't have prints of either at the gift shop, but we will definitely have to look online for them; they will be perfect decorations for our guest bedroom.
After spending about an hour in Picasso's early years, Blue Period, Rose Period, and later years, we got on the bus to head to the Egyptian Museum. Despite its small size, the Museum had quite a number of neat artifacts, including an array of painted wooden coffin lids. They also had a lot of canopic jars, ushtabi figurines, jewelry, and sarcophagi, ranging from the Old Kingdom to the Graeco-Roman period. Everything was very impressive, and we were most satisfied with our museum choices for the day. Everything costs money in Barcelona, much to my "used to DC and everything being free" dismay, so we definitely had to pick and choose what we wanted to do. We got to see everything we wanted to, and I think we got a well-rounded Barcelona diet.
After showering and freshening up at our hostel, we went to dinner at a tapas bar recommended in the hostel's guest book, Cerveceria Catalana. Every guest who wrote in the book raved about how good it was, and it was noted that it was the #4 restaurant in Barcelona. After doing some research online and discovering that it was only 5 minutes away, and received 4.5 out of 5 stars by over 400 people, we decided that would be our restaurant of choice. We got there early by Spanish standards (8:15ish) and had about a half an hour wait to be seated. We were able to grab at seat at the bar and had a glass of wine while we waited for our table. The bar had an array of different tapas lined up on it, so we were able to see the different things we could order once we were seated. A woman from Missouri, who now lives in Romania, struck up a conversation with us, and we soon found out how she misses the Midwest and how much her French in-laws suck. We also talked with a British guy who lived in MN for a year and absolutely loved it; he was a big fan of the winter because even though it was cold, it was still sunny. To which we replied, "But it's still... so cold." I guess when you come from an eternally rainy climate, you are grateful for any form of sunshine, even when it's accompanied by -30 degree weather.
Cerveceria Catalana is a very trendy restaurant, with a loud atmosphere and tables that sit close together. You definitely get a "Sex and the City" vibe when you walk in, and you could almost swear for a second that you're in New York. We were seated at a cozy table that was nestled in a corner by the kitchen, and proceeded to have the BEST MEAL EVER. By far, the best meal we've had since we've been in Europe. We just ordered a bunch of tapas, and everything was just phenomenal. We got more pan con tomate, pan-fried artichokes, the best and freshest calamari we've ever had in our lives, amazing chicken croquettes, Greek salad with peppers and cheese, jamon y queso, and pork loin mini sandwiches with Roquefort cheese. After our 32 euro crap meal the night before, we were expecting to pay an arm and a leg for this feast. Much to our delight, the check was only 45 euro, and that included both our drinks. Amazing food and an amazing deal. If you ever find yourself in Barcelona, be sure to check out Cerveceria Catalana; you won't be disappointed.
We weren't ready to call it a night yet, so we stopped at another tapas bar and ordered dessert. Although I have never had tiramisu in my life, I ordered that because it was homemade. It was very tasty, and I made a mental note to order it again in the future. Elliot ordered apple pie, which looked more like an apple stuffed dough-disk. He said it was still good, but nobody makes apple pie like America. No surprise there, of course.
We floated on a food cloud past a group of girls hanging outside a police station, flirting with the cops, and back to our hostel where we drifted into a full, but not overly so, sleep.
The next day, we got on a bus back to the airport, had a delish McDonald's lunch, and said Adios to an amazing weekend in Barcelona. City by the sea, we shall definitely see you again soon....
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