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When we were first pondering our trip to Europe, 6-8 weeks was the agreement. But the more we read and researched and saved, the bigger it got until it became 5 months and a working visa. When everything is so close together and there is so much to see and do, it gets very hard to stop. But quality of time is important too, so at some point you have to draw a line and make a list of your absolute must-dos.
Barcelona was at the top of that list for me, battling it out with Prague.
Sometimes when you have such high expectations, the reality can be disappointing. Not so of Barcelona. It was definitely love at first sight.
The first 4 weeks of our travels have been absolutely incredible, but they have also been a period of adjustment - of finding our feet, of coming to terms with a new lifestyle and for me, battling a nasty flu with no familiar bed to curl up in. I'd also had my first bout of homesickness in Nice and one of those "what the hell am I doing" sort of moments along with it.
When we arrived in Barcelona, something clicked into place for me. I wrote to my Mum and told her I had found a home away from home. This place friggen rocks! I'm loving the food, the people, the weather, the history, the culture and the physical city which is filled with crazy architecture and art - modern alongside traditional. I love it all!
Our first night we were straight into a food quest with paella on the brain (Paella is a baked rice dish, with vegetables or seafood or chorizo or other meats, or a mix of all of these). We wandered down from our accommodation near the main street, La Ramblas, to the marina. We wanted to get the best, somewhere the locals ate, but with so many options it was a tough choice...and I'm indecisive at the best of times. Suddenly it was 11.15pm and some restaurants were starting to close. Crap. We finally found a place that would take us and we tucked in - super tasty, but I think we can find better.
We had one full day before flying to Ibiza (and then returning to Barcelona for another few days afterward), so to make the most of it we did a Fat Tire bike tour of the city.
I was pumped for the bike ride alone. As a kid I used to tear around on my bike everyday, but I've barely ridden a bike since I turned 13 and decided I was too cool to wear a helmet but not badass enough to ride without one. Well, there's no helmet laws in Europe (or least none that are enforced). So on I jumped, a couple of wobbles and then I'm 10 again. Weeeeeee!
What a great way to see the city and again we hit tour guide gold. We started at government house and then visited the old palace, where we learnt of Queen Isabella and her vicious persecution of non-catholics - the infamous Spanish inquisition. Also something I was unfamiliar with - her rumored affair with Christopher Columbus. It's certainly a good explanation for Spain's decision to fund the expedition which would culminate in the discovery of America. The other European royals thought he was crazy and doomed to drop off the edge of the world. Isabella just thought he was hot. We stood by the steps that Columbus was received on after returning from his successful and extremely profitable voyage.
Our next stop was the Barcelona cathedral. The guide talked a little of the 34 saints worshipped here (and the 34 public holidays celebrated in their honor, in addition to other national holidays...no wonder the economy here is a little bit s***e hey?). For me though the saint who's story stood out was the one who's statue stood at the top of the cathedral. Her name was Eulalia and she lived in a time of Roman rule, when Christians were being killed for their beliefs. When she refused to renounce her religion, the Romans decided to make an example of her. They pierced a barrel with swords and spears, stripped her and put her inside, and rolled her through the whole town. At the end of the day, they pulled her out and she was still alive, so they locked her in a cell overnight. The next day they took her to the town centre, bound her and stretched her on the rack. Again she survived the day. On the third day they nailed her to a crucifix until the days end, and then they decapitated her.
She was 13 years old.
About 3 years later, the city became Catholic and she was hailed as a martyr saint (she is now recognised as the co-patron saint of Barcelona). What a terribly sad story, and what an exceptionally strong conviction of belief for a child of 13.
We rode on toward Barcelona's Arc de Triomf, built for a world expo in 1888. Interesting bit of trivia on this one. When the town was considering what monument to build, it was narrowed to two options. A favourite was picked, but the citizens protested that it was far too ugly and expensive. They kicked up such a fuss that the second option was eventually chosen, and this was the red brick Arc. The architect of option 1 took his idea to Paris and ignoring their own citizens protests they accepted the idea for their own world expo - they built the Eiffel tower. Oopsy, Barcelona.
Next stop, Parc de la Ciutadella. This park is in the centre of Barcelona, and is a really pretty spot with a beautiful fountain that kicks Trevi fountain ass. A bit more history....Our guide had earlier explained that Barcelona is in fact the capital of Catalunya and is quite distinct from the rest of Spain in it's language, culture and historical roots. He talked about the war of the Spanish Succession in the 1700s, and the civil war in the 1930s which led to Franco's dictatorship and oppression of Catalan culture and language - Catalans were killed just for speaking their own language. This history of oppression and persecution is the reason why the people of Barcelona, now under a democracy, take such pride in their Catalan heritage and culture, and make such an effort to distinguish themselves as being separate from Spain.
In 1714, Barcelona fell to the army of King Philips V during the war of the Spanish Succession. At this time, the king built the largest fortress in Europe - a citadel or 'Ciutadella'. This later became a site for execution of Catalan people and much-hated symbol of central government. When the citadel was handed back to the people in the late 1800s, it was destroyed. The park was built in it's place and has been used since for celebrations.
Our final historical stop was the hotly anticipated Sagrada Familia. This unique temple was designed by the renowned architect Antoni Gaudi, Barcelona's pride. It's pretty different - google it and you will see what I mean. The Catholic church thought it was a bit weird and refused to fund it or recognise it as a church. Instead, it was funded by the people of Barcelona. Later when it became famous, the Pope came to consecrate it - he was met with massive protests along the lines of 'you had your chance' and 'you snooze you lose' but went ahead anyway.
In his last years Gaudi became a little obsessed with the Sagrada. He moved into it and didn't emerge for weeks, and started looking like a bum to the point that when he was hit by a tram (on the tram system he helped to design), no one recognised him. He was taken to a public hospital and received no treatment for days, before he eventually died. Apparently this is when Barcelona stopped using trams...
The Sagrada was unfinished when he died, and is still under construction, but Gaudi expected this and left detailed plans (most of which were later destroyed by fire at the hands of anarchists, so they are now guessing with a lot of it). Barcelona expect it to be finished sometime after 2020, but sounds as though it has a long way to go. Hopefully we can come back when we're old and grey to see it.
We ended the tour at the beach with a jug of sangria, after which the tour group became much more talented riders and much more enthusiastic with their bells.
Mariana and Jake also did the tour, so afterward we went out for some delicious tapas. Another busabouter, Shaun, joined us. In the spirit of my ongoing 'food that freaks me out' challenge, I ate whole baby octopus - Gem you would be proud that I ate 3 of them! Not too bad! We had a few 1 euro beers at an Irish pub called Ryan's before Mark and I had to leave to catch our flight to Ibiza.
As we walked back to the hostel I was sad to leave new friends, but that is something we will need to get used to I suppose. I was also sad to leave Barcelona, but luckily that is something we will come back to. Til next we meet!
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Gem So proud of you Liss :-D