BAAAAARCELONA, where the winds come sweeping down the plains!!!

You may be wondering about my title, since Barcelona is known neither for its winds or plains.  But the State of Oklahoma is.  At least it has been since Rogers & Hammerstein gave us this song in their musical Oklahoma!  I only know the lyrics alluded to in my title, along with two other fragments from this musical.  One of these is from a particularly irritating song, while the other is only slightly less so.  I have no idea where I picked up "Geese and chicks and ducks better scurry,/ when I take you out in the surrey,/ when I take you out in the surrey / with the fringe on top!" but I wish I could put it back.  I know exactly where I got "Oh, what a beautiful morning!  / Oh, what a beautiful day!" however.  When I went camping with my Boy Scout troop, one of the troop leaders – a grizzled old, chain-smoking former Navy cook who had served in WWII – used to wake us all up by singing those two lines as well as a grizzled old chain-smoking Navy cook could.  I sometimes woke up early, having dreamt of him singing those lines while he was still strolling around the campsite, sucking on a Marlboro, waiting for the right time to do the deed.

Now, I am certain that you are all fascinated by this, but you may be wondering what all of this has to do with our recent long weekend in the capital of Catalonia, the fair city of Barcelona.  The answer: absolutely nothing whatsoever.  Except that one of our friends here in Madrid lives in Oklahoma, and seeing her has gotten the songs from the musical stuck in my head, and last week I realized that you could substitute "Barcelona" for "Oklahoma" and the meter still worked.  So, for the few days before our departure, I was singing "Baaaaaaaaarcelona, where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!," much to the chagrin of Zoë.

But Zoë had her revenge.  On the night before our departure, she informed us that she had neglected to notice, upon reserving the apartment where we would be staying, that it was a fifth-floor walk-up.  That's five floors, not counting the ground floor.  So a six-floor walk-up, by US measure.  Oh well.  The price was good, as was the location, right in Barcelona's Barri Gòtic, or "Gothic Quarter."  If you are now picturing us among black-clad teenagers listening to desperately depressing music, then you should know that it was not that kind of gothic, but the other kind, the medieval kind.  As in "gothic architecture," or "gothic cathedrals."  The neighborhood had one of the latter, and plenty of the former.

We spent four days in Baaaaaarcelona, where the wind comes sweeping down the plains, courtesy of the weekend, Constitution Day (Monday), the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (Wednesday) and the bridge day (Tuesday).  A bridge day, for those of you so saturated in the Protestant Work Ethic that you simply cannot believe what is obviously implied, is a vacation day connecting two other vacation days, so as to maximize continuous vacation time.  We left Saturday on the early (6am) bullet train, and came back this morning, giving us four days and four nights in Baaaaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!

Saturday

La Seu without the scaffolding that currently graces it

• Arrival.  Trudged up the apartment.  Orientation from Julián, the young Argentinian guy in charge of check-in.  Dumped our stuff.  Trudged down.
• Strolling around the Gothic Quarter.  Again, no Goths.  
• Visting La Seu, the medieval cathedral of Baaaaaaaaarcelona, where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!  Extraodinary.
• A visit to the City Museum, which features remains of the Roman town of Barcino, the predecessor to the current city.  The whole museum is underground, because that's where the remains are.  
• Lunch at La Fonda, a restaurant in the Gothic Quarter that I would recommend to anyone looking for a good, affordable meal.  
• An extended visit to the Christmas market in front of the cathedral, where the Kid became obsessed with the Spanish custom of the Nativity scene.  People invest a great deal in these things, adding figures and details over the course of the year.  We ended up buying one, with the central figures, the three kings, the shepherds, and some animals, including a dog and a family of bunnies.  For Santiago, it was all about the animals.  The weirdest thing on sale, though, was the very Catalan figure of the "caganer," a traditional peasant in the act of having a bowel movement.  A fertility thing apparently.  For the satirically inclined, there were caganers in the form of celebrities, including soccer players and politicians, even Barack Obama.  Not to be confused with the caganer was the "caga tío," or "Tío de Nadal."   This is a log with a Christmas outfit that you hit with a stick while singing a special song.  It then defecates small presents, or turrones and other sweets.  Mmmm just what I wanted for Christmas, log-shit for dessert.   We set up the new Nativity scene in the apartment, only to shock poor Julián.  When he came in to fix a little problem with the toilet, he saw our Nativity scene and concluded we were deeply religious people who had brought the thing with us from Madrid because we simply could not be without it during the Christmas season.
• Trudged up to the apartment.

An Obama caganer

Sunday

• Breakfast at Forns del Pi, a bakery/coffee shop in the Gothic Quarter.  We found that Catalans know how to do pastry, and enjoyed having breakfast there every day.
• Betrayal!!!  One of the things we most wanted to see in Baaaaaaaaaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains! was the collection of Romanesque art at the National Catalan Art Museum.  We arrived first thing only to find that the gallery was under renovation.  How could they do this to us?  Didn't they know we were coming?  Or was it because they knew we were coming!?!?  Maybe we should have whacked a log with a stick before leaving Madrid.
• Frustrated and angry with the MNAC, we decided to leave it altogether, and go instead to the Fundació Joan Miró, a museum centered on the collection of works donated by Miró precisely for this purpose.  I can't say Miró is one of my favorite artists, but I certainly appreciate him more having spent a few hours with his work.  At least they didn't have any galleries closed for renovation.
• Lunch at Òleum, despite its location within the walls of the traitorous MNAC.  The only real reason we went there is because all of these museums are located on the hill of Montjuïc, which is on the edge of downtown.  You can either schlep back into town to eat, or eat at one of the establishments in/around the museums.  Òleum was absolutely superb.  We sat with a view of the city, and particularly enjoyed the dessert, chestnut cake with black-sesame ice cream.  Surprisingly, this meal did not break the bank.
• Afterwards, the Poble Espanyol, the kitchiest thing we've seen in Spain.  "See Spain in an hour!" say the ads.  This is a leftover from the world's fair of the 1920s that bequeathed to us many of the structures on Montjuïc.  We read the description to the Kid, and he was dying to go.  It's basically a little park, where each and every building is a repro of some historical buildign somewhere in Spain.  Well, the façade is, at least.  The interior is an arts & crafts and/or souvenir shop.  I was tempted to take a picture of the fake plaza mayor and post it, claiming it was a real place.  The Kid got a kick out of watching the glassblowers.  The Andalusian section included a street from Arcos de la Frontera, where we had been in September.  It was creepily reminiscent of our experience there.  The whole place was a shock to me, because I thought we only had this sort of kitschy repro-authentic places in the US!
• Then, the Caixa Forum, another museum, where we saw this very cool exhibition of archelogical remains from Saudi Arabia.  The museum itself is wonderful.  It's in a repurposed textile factory.  The exhibit culminated in a pair of 17th century metal doors that had once lead into the Ka'ba in Mecca.  Zoë, a former Near Eastern Languages and Civilization major, was particularly moved by this.  
• Dinner at a tapas place off the Ramblas.  The food was delicious at Òleum, but the portions small, so for once we ate dinner.  The Ramblas are a series of pedestrian walkways that cut down the length of Baaaaaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!, and where much of the action is.  Flower stalls.  Cafés.  Tourists.  Pickpockets.  And over-priced but delicious tapas bars.  Can't remember the name.
• Trudged up to the apartment.

Monday

Entrance bldg at Parc Guell

• Gaudí Day.  If you don't know who Antoni Gaudí is, you're missing out!  Gaudí was a spectacular architect of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, certainly of Spain's greatest ever.  Most of his buildings are in Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!, and we decided to see them.  
• First stop, the Parc Guell, a spectacular public park in the hills just above downtown.  The fusion of nature and artifice is amazing. The architecture reminded me of something, and I couldn't tell what it was . . . Something sci-fi?  No.  The Lord of the Rings?  No.  What?
• Second stop, La Sagrada Familia.  We were conveyed there by a Galician cab driver who told the Kid that he looked like a girl, and then regaled us with a story about how he won the Army Judo Championship back in the day, despite the fact that he knew no judo, by getting his opponent into the only pin he knew right away.  He mumbled some nostalgic things about life under Franco.  Upon arrival: Abort! Abort! Abort!  The line wrapped around the entire block.  We decided to come back the next day. Early.
• Third stop.  Not really a stop, since we were walking the whole time.  A stroll through the Eixample, the 19th century neighborhood where most of the buildings by Gaudí and other modernistas.  
• Fourth stop.  We went into La Pedrera, an apartment building by Gaudí that is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  I wondered what it would be like to live in a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but then as I wrote this, I realized that I actually have!  Again, it looked like something I knew, but I couldn't place it . . . 
• Lunch at Ponsa, a family-owned restaurant nearby.  OK food, but overpriced!  The most expensive meal we had in Baaaaaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!
• After lunch, an abortive trip to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which was closed Mondays, it turns out.  
• Exhausted, we headed back to the apartment, planning on an early bed and an early rise, to get to the Sagrada Familia before it opened. 
• That night, Zoë had a dream that revealed to both of us the answer to the question that had been bothering me so.  Gaudí's architecture looked like something out of . . . Dr. Seuss!!! YES!!!  Apparently, Zoë and I are not the only ones to think this way: take a look at this passage from Dr Seuss: American Icon, by Philip Nei. 
• Trudged up to the apartment.

Tuesday

The crucifixion scene

• La Sagrada Familia.  I knew this unfinished church by Gaudí was going to be a show-stopper, but I was not prepared for it to be quite as spectacular as it is.  Gaudí reinterprets gothic architecture to make it look natural, converting the columns into trees and the vaults into leaves.  The interior soars.  The stained-glass shines.  I cannot even imagine what this place will be like once it is finished.  Right now, it is among the most impressive buildings in Spain, along with the Mosque in Córdoba and the Alhambra in Granada.  We spent 3+ hours there, gawking and marveling.  I was particularly impressed by the statues executed for the western façade, dedicated to the Passion, by the Catalan sculptor Subirachs.  
• Then the Picasso Museum.  A strange little place, because it has no really famous works by the artist.  It's interesting nonetheless, because it has some juvenalia that allows you to appreciate just how talented Picasso was at an early age (14 years old).  There's also a wonderful gallery with his multiple parodies of Velázquez's Las Meninas.
• Lunch was at Origens.  I highly recommend this place when you find yourself in Baaaaaaarcelona where the wind comes sweeping down the plains!  It specializes in Catalan cuisine.  The menu reads like a magazine, with a little article about every dish and a map that shows you what part of Catalonia it's from.  We had the tasting menu, which was both a flavor feast and a good value.
• After lunch, a stroll through Barceloneta, the waterfront neighborhood, enjoying the unseasonably warm temperatures (high 60s).  And then the teleferico ride across the harbor to Montjuïc, followed by a long walk back to the apartment.  
• Trudged up to the apartment.

Whew.  I can't believe that was just four days.  If you enjoyed what you read, please post, here or on Facebook.  We'd all love to hear from you.  If you didn't enjoy what you read, go post on David Gies's blog.