Re-visiting our trip

This flu is proving harder to shake than I had thought.
Another day in for me after a bout with the bathroom after breakfast. So I am trying to put the time to some use by transferring some of the earlier blog pages to Corel ready for printing when we get home. I know that I will not catch them all up, but at least I will have started! When going back over them and adding more of our photos to the pages it amazes me just how much we have seen and learned in our 149 days on the road so far. Have been working on Barcelona and Marseille over the last two days.

Michael has gone into Galway to do a Walk. These walks are often conducted by the local Visitor Information Centres although in some areas they are commercial enterprises (Edinburgh) and include many of the local historic sites. Galway is (like many cities of its age) another walled city. The walls are not standing as much as some of those we have recently seen, but the remnants are clearly visible.

Galway is a university city, and on such a SUNNY day the bayside and city precinct is boiling with humanity. University students, tourists, work people are moving with a purpose in their step or just lounging on the grass areas soaking up the sunshine.

Galway first appeared at the mouth of the River Corrib as a fort in 1124, (built by King of Connacht, Tairrdelbach Ua Conchobair [1088-1156],) and by 1651 had developed into a garrisoned city. Regrettably, little remains of its former walls, battlements and bastions, as Galway had suffered greatly from border conflicts. By 1691 the stalwart families of the city were ruined, Galway declined and would not recovered completely until the economic boom of the late twentieth century.

Nowadays, Galway is the third largest and fastest growing city in the Republic of Ireland, basking in its economic revival. This is due to sound economic investments and the contribution from a university economy.

However, Galway is a vibrant city offering one and all a food-fest! Yes, folks, this is my kind of town: cafes and restaurants, all proffering a variety of fare. If there is any evidence of Galway's past is in its streets; many are narrow, meandering and which seem to capture the aromas of these eating houses and are thrust upon unsuspecting wanderers. Thai, Indian, French, Ceylonese, like ethereal mallets.

Wait a minute...what's this then? There's some cove.... shearing.... a.... sheep - well, I'll be buggered!

Most of the city's architecture is relatively "new", with the exception of Lynch's Castle which is medieval townhouse and now occupied by the Allied Irish Bank. Walking through the streets, one comes across purposefully placed pieces of sculpture. One in particular shows Oscar Wilde and Eugine Wilde (neither related) seated on a park bench. Ah..the park bench is also cast in bronze, rendering it and the figures as one sculpture. The Galway Cathedral is relatively new - opened in 1965. Interestingly though, the cathedral has a Romanesque portico and an unusual feature for a modern Irish church. (...well, I did state it was 'interesting'?)

The walk took me through the city and along the bank of the River Corrib and weir, there was even a bloke fly-fishing down from the weirs' overflow! Then I headed for the University and its renowned Quadrangle. This is the oldest section of the university, erected in 1849, which originally housed various scholastic disciplines.

Then it was back to the north end of Galway, and the mural on the end wall of 'Sally Longs' and the rumoured shopfront of 'Couch Patatas'! These all contribute to Galway's uniqueness.

A day with Antonio!

Friday 6 February 2009

Gaudí, the architects pinup - not Banderas!

This morning has broken slightly overcast, but not wet!

Following our visit to the unforgetable Sagrada Familia earlier in the week, today is the day we have set aside to discover the best commercial examples of Antiono Gaudí's works of art. And we are not to be disappointed.

We leave the apartment and walk the six blocks to the closest Metro station heading for Casa Batlló. This building (colloquially called the house of bones due to its external facade supports) faces the Passeig de Gràcia - one of the wide promenades through the centre of Barcelona.

The first thing you notice as you near Casa Batlló is the exterior of the building. It is covered in a surface that irradesces as you walk toward it. Colourful glazed ceramics and broken glass give the building its distinctive outer shell. But this is only a taste of what you will see once inside. At €16.50 each to go through the public spaces, it is not a cheap visit - but once inside, who cares! This building was a remodelling of a building on the site as the home and office of a wealthy businessman. Through the use of external strong skeleton, Gaudí was able to remove many of the internal walls, and make use of large windows and an internal courtyard to ensure that all rooms received natural light.

As previously highlighted, Gaudí took his inspiration from nature and this buildings source of insight was the sea. Every little detail from the colours of the stained glass to the strange wall finish, to the use of undulating shades of blue is reminiscent of the water world. And where it was not appropriate to use ceramics he used the warm hues of polished timber to highlight.

Many of the features in this unique building are cutting edge today - like the use of cantilevered large windows that open into wall recesses above, like shaded glass to temper the amount of light entering a room, like adjustable louvred slats to control the movement of air from the outside into a room (built into the timber window frames) and even from room to room, like the use of graduated colour to ensure that in the courtyard the blues look even when viewed from below or above (taking into account the effect of light on colour). And to think that this renovation was undertaken in 1904. AND with no plans - just sketches and a plaster model Gaudí created to show the tradesmen what he wanted the finished product to look like.

And with his background in metalwork, he was ever present while most of the building works were being undertaken. The whole building is a joy to discover. We learn not only of the remarkable genius of this man before his time, but also gain an insight into the world of the privleged society of the time. The little details give as much information as does the scale of the building itself.

The incredible beauty of the fittings. The inclusion of vestry chambers for a priest to change before and after saying a private mass in the home (by the way, the altar survives and is being kept for inclusion in the main altar of the yet-to-be-completed La Sagrada Familia!

Once we finish in the house proper, we head for the roof courtyard and the continuation of the use of ceramics, timber and light! Here on the roof level he has used a clever combination of open vents and unsupported arches to hide the day to day grind of a well to do house - the laundries (one for each apartment) and the chimneys and water storages.

And then it is over and we wander back into the hustle of the Barcelona lunch rush. What a contrast to the measured calm we have just left! Just a few blocks away is another of Gaudí's masterpieces - Casa Milà, better known as La Pedrera. We get lunch on the way - long rolls of ham and salad with hot coffee in plastic cups - Barcelona natives obviously dodn't buy coffee to go - they have used two plastic cups one inside the other - and the inner one almost melts with the hot liquid!

Again facing Passeig de Gràcia, as soon as you see the La Pedrera building you recognise it as a definite Gaudí - and yet it is totally different to the one we have just left. It is organic in its facade and looks very austere when compared with Casa Batlló. The building presents as a work in concrete and ironwork. BUT . . .

once inside it is a thing of beauty - reflecting the world of flora. The first thing that you notice is that there are darker spaces in the inner courtyards of this building - but no less light or air! The walls are covered with murals that initially just seem to be splashes of colour designed to brighten space, but on closer reflection reveal the life in the forest or the flower glen complete with nymph like figures.

This building, rescued from the ministrations of modern taste in the 1980's and restored to its former glory, was built against many of the city's codes (including breaking height restrictions!) and completed 1912 for a wealthy widow and her second husband. It was designed so they could live in part of the building and rent out other apartments. Like so much of Gaudí's works, this one broke new ground in architecture and construction.

Much of the building is still used as residences and offices. The attic floor, the roof and one of the apartments is open for inspection. The attic houses a museum to the man and his work and includes wonderful audio-visual presentations not only on Gaudí's works, but on his childhood, his education and the social history of his day that must have left its mark on a young man who was to become to care deeply for the masses and who developed a deep religiousness. Gaudí not only designed buildings, but everything that was to be used in them - right down to window handles and pieces of furniture. Examples of all this, plus examples of his genius exhibited in his models are laid out under 200+ caterany (unsupported) arches that Gaudí perfected using mathematical modelling. Bit before his time wasn't he!!!

The apartments are huge. Multi-bedroomed, they included rooms such as sewing rooms (functional ones) and sectioned kitchens as well as more formal and informal family rooms - all receiving the same attention to detail - whether the room was to be functional or formal. The apartment on show is fitted out with true to the period furniture and effects, though pain is taken to explain that none of these belonged to the original apartment. I guess that like us today, those who went before did little to appreciate what was beneath their noses!

But the crowning glory to this like many other of Gaudí's buildings is the roof where fantasy flies in the face of function and his whimsical side is allowed full rein. He clustered chimneys so that he could group them and crown them with tops that organically twist just like a column of smoke will. He also grouped other functional needs here such as the water supplies and ventilation for all the apartments and the roof accesses and covered them cleverly with these fancies of art.

So, these two wonders of the architectural world done, and my immediate need to see the works of this genius sated, we leave and head for the harbour and a aerial gondola ride across the bay. But all the best laid plans of us are thwarted, not once, but twice. A cab ride gets us to the pylon okay (at the business end of the docks) only to be informed by a man on ground level that it is not operating today, but will be open tomorrow. We can see that they are indeed running, but he insists that this pylon is closed and with no other person around and the gate indeed down, we head back to the street to find another cab to get us around to the Marina and the next pylon. Yep, they are operating! Yay.

€9 each way or €11.70 return so the return is far more economical. We climb up three flights of the pylon - akin to climbing into the girders of the Sydney Harbour Bridge or even up the leg of the Eiffel Tower. At the ticket box we are informed that they are selling single tickets only. And for only one leg of the trip! Not only do they lose our sale, but that of a large group of young Americans as well. Guess customer service still has some way to go for some operators. So back down we all climb.

We head back towards the Port on foot and near the Columbus Column we see a fleet of boats getting ready to head for a harbour cruise. THAT sounds good. It is sunny with a slight breeze, so it should be great out on the water. Ha ha - famous last words! Michael books us on a 1.5 hour cruise. On board I am reading the little brochure as we pull out from the dock and (much to my slight horror) discover that this cruise, unlike the 35 minute harbour cruise, includes a journey out on the open sea down the coast! Yikes! I am not a good sailor at the best of times. We near the head of the harbour and open water and there we go - Davy Jones' locker one minute and the moon high in the sky the next. Is it possible to be tossed on 3 or 4 axis - I am sure we are!

I am glad that we put my scarf in the backpack to protect the camera this morning as the 'slight breeze' is now a nautical gale of some knots. Yep - the return of the Ewok as I hunker down and try to keep warm. Of course, I could go downstairs and into the cabin of the boat - but that would mean a need to stand and negotiate the way downstairs while rocking and rolling, so I opt to stay in the 'breeze' and tough it out.

Still, once we are out of the harbour and away from the wash of the boats entering and leaving, the tossing abates somewhat and even I get to appreciate Barcelona from a different view. We watch as a fishing trawler heads back for the safety of port, trailing a huge cloud of sea birds ever watchful and hopeful of tasty detrius being thrown overboard. We watch as wind surfers race along the peaks and troughs of the sea, going hell for bent in the pursuit of fun (yeah, right). And we get a chance to see more of the southern end of the city as it sprawls along the coastline - reminiscent of the Queensland coast. In the Port area and around the city centre, the building height limit serves to keep an ordered look but as we head away, there are more high apartment blocks, but still they look neat from here. Once we are a fair way down the coast, we turn and head back for Port Vell. And then all hell breaks loose.

We are of course travelling back across our own wash - and in to a headwind. That rocking and rolling starts all over again, but this time with a renewed fervour and it seems, with a will to see me empty my stomach. Close the eyes, creep further down into the scarf and into the pockets of my jacket and try to ignore the laughing coming from Michael next to me! No need to open my eyes - seen it all on the way down! Finally, we cut across all the rough and reach the calm of the harbour again. And just when I thought it was all over, we turn into another arm of the harbour and head to have a look at the industrial area, going past two huge Mediterranean cruise liners on the way - the Norwegian Jade and the Brilliance of the Seas - google them if you want info - they are expensive and expansive and there are lots of people on board, some getting their instructions on how to don a life vest - not my idea of a holiday!!!

Back on dry land, we want to get up Columbus - right up him in fact! We have learned that there is a lift that ascends the column to a height of around 60m (if you can call a contraption just large enough to hold two passengers and an attendant a lift). But the view is superb out over Barcelona and the Port - even if the space is very cramped. So our day is done.

Tonight we will treat ourselves to dinner out. There is a nice little restaurant just down from the apartment - the Sedna. Dinner choices primarily revolve around the sea - which is to be anticipted in a city that embraces such a nice spot on the coast. They serve champagne as an apperitif (which Maria toasts with the maitre'd) and bread spread with the juice of crushed tomatoes and drizzled with olive oil. Choices tonight are excellent:

Entree

Octopus a fiera (octopus slices on potato slices and liberally doused with paprika) Michael

Sopa de Pescado y Mariscos con Jengibre y el Cilantro (fish and seafood soup with ginger and coriander) Maria

Main

we share a Paella mixta (mixed Paella - seafood and chicken)

Dessert

Sable avellana con Carmelo y Peras al horno (Hazelnut Sable with Caramel and Baked Pears) Michael

Chocolate Belga con fondant de chocolate blanco y reducción Moderna (Belgian Chocolate Fondant with White Chocolate and Moderna reduction) Maria

Followed by espresso, it finishes a great day beautifully! Back to the apartment to begin packing for our departure tomorrow to Madrid.

I know it's winter but . . .

Tuesday 3 February 2009

And still the rain comes. This morning is as dark as it was at 10 pm last night. The rain is as heavy as a damp, dank, dark coat. There will be no sightseeing for the moment.

We decide to tackle the healthily growing pile of laundry that comes with living out of a suitcase. The instructions in the manual for the apartment for the use of the washing machine and the dryer are less than clear. After a number of failed attempts, we end up washing the clotes for almost 2 hours and still cannot work the dryer. Now, before you all scoff at our uselessness, please be advised that the washing machine and dryer are one machine, the instructions on the machine are all in spanish and the instructions clearly relate to two seperate machines. In the end, trial and error prevail and we work it out - boy these clothes have never had it so clean (or dry!)

It is now just before 2 pm and the sky is breaking - giving us a glimmer of hope - so we rug up, pack the brolly and set out for a walk. There is certainly nothing like a good downpour to wash away the debris and Barcelona now sparkles. Although it is still overcast, the people come back out into the streets, rushing about their chores, or just catching up with their world at their local café bar.

We wander down different back streets and come across a little chapel to St Christopher - patron saint of travellers, so have to get a photo of that one! At Las Ramblas we are amid the locals and tourists rubbing shoulders - ever mindful of our belongings as we have heard plenty of advice to be wary of pickpockets in this area. The flower markets are doing a thriving trade down either side of the pedestrianised centre of this famous street. We spy the Mercat de la Boqueria (Boqueria Market) and head on over.

Now, as you will see in the attached link to this market, the Chairman of the Vendors Association claims this is one of the best markets in Europe. Even though it was almost 5 pm, the vendors were still hustling and the buyers still being discerning! There was plenty of trade continuing with all manners of fresh produce available. From farm fresh produce (all the way from Peru as we later discovered our asparagus was sourced), to all manners of seafood - try this link for a description of spanish seafood - incuding many we had never seen before). The navaja were particularly interesting to see! And then there was the game store that not only had tins of the ever-present foie gras, but also the raw liver - all yellow and fatty - not a sign of the anticipated dark red, to ducks ready to cook all á la oranged, and furred and feathered rabbits, ducks and fowl still freshly draining their last blood.

For the princely sum of €16.85 we bring home a large bunch of asparagus, half a kilo of strawberries, 2 punnets of raspberries, a handful of mushrooms, a hand of bananas and a layer of the finest, leanest jamon. a feast in the making! We have been trying to cook most nights so that we can get a decent amount of fresh vegetables in to us. We had bought fresh chicken and veal at the supermarket without realising that this market was so close.

Back to the unit via a different route - past lots of Tapas bars and the Cathedral of Santa Eulalia who reportedly was martyred in Roman Times and whose remains are interred in the crypt. One of the most interesting features of this temple are the remains of a former basilica that dates back to 925 AD. This is a stunning example of Gothic architecture that dominates the square in front of it where teens compete each other for daring (stupid) skateboard stunts. The Spanish like many other Europeans love their graffiti - the historic type that is. Graffiti (The term "graffiti" derives from the Greek graphein ("to write"). Graffiti (s. graffito), meaning a drawing or scribbling on a flat surface, originally referred to those marks found on ancient Roman architecture) adorns many of the outsides of the buildings that we pass.

Tonight I make veal with veges and the make a thin egg custard (why o why didn't I buy some vanilla??) and then slice ripe strawberries into it and let them steep in it before adding more strawberries and all the raspberries just before we eat it - yum!

It has been a frustrating couple of days with the weather. Tomorrow promises sun - so we are eager to get out and about!

Day Two: That Rain in Spain won’t stay in the Plain.

Monday 2 February 2009

He stood in the doorway, shoulders hunched against the cold; hat pulled down over his eyes and his coat in a tight Harlow grasp. Tendrils of cigarette smoke his only companion. Once more he cursed Shaw, Higgins and Pickering; another dead lead and more blasted rain.
As the rain beat around him; he drew in another breath of the strong Turkish, pushed himself from the doorway, and continued his drudge along Carrer Ruff. Disillusionment was not his companion this day, just the drenching rain. Another day in Barcelona; another day in the corps.

As he pushed on, he heard the haunting sitar playing of Anton Carras; which made him wonder - where was he going to find this third man? He suddenly had to stop, as some cove on a moped cut through his reverie. The Spanish, they love life, the grape, tobacco and mopeds.
He hunkered deeper into his coat, and thought of New York. The Big Apple: a city which never sleeps – except on Sundays. Barcelona reminded him of New York, as a city that never sleeps – but it includes Sundays. The bars and cafes are jumping after 10 at night; those places just bulge. Oh yes, these Spaniards are in love with life.

Get a move on! No wonder every passer by keeps looking at this guy, just standing in the rain – in a dream. He continues to walk, then suddenly remembers his rendezvous - the museum… Huddling into a doorway, he takes out his battered map and realising his chips might be down. In the damp and gloom he traces a route to….what is it called? Pushing his hat upon his forehead with his thumb, just like switching on a light. The Museu D’història de Catalunya – that’s it!

Folding the map, he shoves it into his back pocket, and then heads south along Via Rambla towards the Mirador de Colom. All roads may have led to Rome at some time, in Barcelona the roads eventually lead to Christopher Columbus. Today, however, is not the day to visit the ‘Birdman’ at the Font de Canaletes.

Lighting another Turk, he ploughs his way through the throng of people. Walking along the streets of Barcelona is like a game of constant weaving, veering and running with the ball for touch. People just walk right in front of you; too many destinations and too little time. Upon reaching the Plaça del Teatre, he ducks under a portico to escape another heavy downpour. Idling towards the main street, after the sudden torrent; he stops, and with an intake of breath, he sees another encubierto agente. He flattens himself against the wall.

These coves like to dress-up, talk about not being too conspicuous? He peers again at the figure, which is frozen in silence. Like some character from an H.P. Lovecraft novel, the figure is very ghoulish: horns, talons, unfurled wings and glistening with gold. He watches as some passerby throws it money, as in a tithe to keep the creature at bay. On receiving the hand-out, the fiendish creature opens its eyes and mouth in a macabre gesture; quickly it collapses into its catatonic stance.

Carefully, our fellow slinks past the apparition, and suddenly realises he is surrounded by these frozen forms. These may not be as ghastly as the ghoul, but they too are sentinels of silence.
He makes a hasty dash past the sentries, and hastens towards his destination.

Arriving at the Mirador de Colom, he looks carefully around him, allaying any concern to the presence of other agentes. He quickly crosses the Ronda del Litoral, circuits the Puerto de Barcelona building and crosses the bridge, Rambla de Mar. The Museu D’història de Catalunya is now not far.

Yachts, with erect and swaying masts, like metronomes providing silent pulses to the man’s regular tread, as he nears his destination. There! Over there on the other side! He quickens his pace, rounds the port railings and hastens towards the museum’s entry.

Once again he curses Shaw, Higgins and Pickering; another dead lead… the museum is closed!

“The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly On the Plain”

…….bovina excreta.

Professor Henry Higgins may have used this ‘Id’ altering tongue-twister on Eliza Doolittle, but rest assured the rain in Spain falls everywhere!

It’s Sunday, and with a dense cloud cover issuing an over abundance of precipitation, it’s the type of weather suitable for ducks and mad Australians? Albeit, a new town in a new country cooing at the brave to venture forth. Where to from here?

Maria, with a case of Barcelona Belly, won't leave the proximity of the loo and will start transposing our blog into Corel (ready for printing when we return home). I, on the other hand, decide to once again don hat, coat, storm-stick, and a map of Barcelona, then strike forth into the elements.

Our apartment is located in Sant Marti opposite Port Vill and marinas, and behind us is the area known as Barri Gòtic, that name alone is an inspiration for exploration. Hence, this is the direction I head for – the dark and narrow streets of the unknown.

The area is reminiscent of the Whitechapel area of East London with the exception: Jack doesn’t live here. In fact, this Gothic area may be gloomy but it teams with life. As I proceed through the rain, I hear people singing; passersby greet each other like long lost friends; little estaminets and bars bulging with humanity; locals scurrying through this labyrinth like mice in a Skinner box – yes, folks, there is a verve here, which tremors through my very footfalls.

Through this winding maze of gothic architecture, graffiti, cooking aromas and tobacco, I suddenly venture into one of Barcelona’s many plazas or “plaça”. This small square, called Plaça Centelles, is bordered by rustic residential buildings (which some incorporate ground level cafes and bars), and a church called Sants Just I Pastor. I must add, throughout my walks in Barcelona city every plaça has a church or remnants of one.

Continuing onwards I come across my objective – Infomaćion de Touristé. The tourism office, which is rather modest, is located in a precinct of government offices. I find the Tourism staff most accommodating, and provide me with an assortment of tourist information, and salient advice. As I leave the tourism office, the rain commences to fall more heavily, so I open the brolly and head west along the Carre de la Boqueria towards the Via Rambla, one of the main street in Barcelona.

As I reach Via Rambla, the rain continues it heavy downfall and time to test a local coffee house. So, a short sojourn in Le Primavera for a doble espresso. I must admit, the Spanish do know how to make strong coffee; and after the ingestion of a ‘gorilla’ I’m ready to press on south on the Via Rambla.

Likened to Marseille, Barcelona is a city of ships and those of varying shapes and sizes. Barcelona’s history has basically revolved around the sea, though trade, ship building and warfare.

Let’s just digress here for a moment….
Who founded Barcelona: the Greeks, the Romans, Larry King? Well, if you’re into legends – it was Hercules, four hundred years before the defining of Rome! (Long live the Heroic age!) However, there is another belief that Barcelona was established by Hamilcar Barca, (the father of Hannibal,) around 3BC after he had given the Scippio brothers bloody noses. He then gave the area his family name, ‘Barcino’.

Well, considering the evidence of Roman ruins unearthed over the years, I would suspect SPQR was hitting the charts about 15BC. Then after the Romans had their shot, they were kicked out by the Visigoths, who in turn were usurped by the Moors and finally Charlemagne had his prod around the eighth century, anno domini. Interesting, eh….

As I neared the Passeig de Colom, I noticed the icon of a museum on the edge of the port - yes; it’s a maritime museum - Reials Drassanes Museu Maritim to be exact. This was to prove a most venerable haven to escape the rain.

The museum is not only impressive by the exhibits, but in the manner of the presentation as a chronological tour. It’s not restricted just to Spain’s maritime history; it incorporates the influences from other nations. However, the museum does boast a full scale replica of a 13C galley, and the replica of the submarine, Ictíneo 1, built by the gifted shipwright Narcís Moturiol. The original was built in 1859. To stave any further rambling; follow this link to the museums’ site.

After a couple of hours at the museum, it was time to return to the apartment and Maria. The apartment we have rented has a kitchen; therefore, only home-cooked meals this week, folks. There’ll be no fancy menu to report….well, maybe?