Tomorrow

...is All Saints Day, and this evening there were masses in the churches and incense wafting in the air. First pic is of votives in the beautiful little church of Sta. Maria del Mar.

Tomorrow I head up the mountain, to Can Serrat and my painting immersion. I'll have to cover the day's activities later because right now, I've gotta get packed and to bed early, here's hoping I hear the alarm clock through my ear plugs. Found the perfect finale dinner this evening, in the little plaza right outside the door to the hostal--comfort food for my nervous travel-tummy! This tapas dish is boiled pumpkin (for Halloween!), butter, garlic (lots) and yogurt crema; a tomato spread on the bread; and a wonderful cava. Mmm... just right.

Darn. Wish I wasn't so pooped. There's fireworks going on outside right now.

Funiculì, funiculà, funiculì....

I went to the Fondació Miró today, in hopes of putting the first notch in my museum belt. Sigh. This is why people take tours, I guess. My misunderstanding of the map/metro/funicular landed me waaaaaaaaay up on top of Montjuic. It was a spectacular day--full sun, t-shirt weather. I mosied around the park a bit, appreciated the musician who was playing some fine jazz, took a few pics, and began to wonder why there was no signage to the building... the map shows it should be right here. A kindly jogger told me it was a hike down the mountain, about 20 minutes. Whoops. There is no signage because you don't take the tram to the museum. Well, it was quite a ride, and I don't mind walking, so on my way I went. Found the place, and the line by then was... well, fuhgetaboudit. Another day. Maybe.

The hoards here--everywhere--are kind of a surprise. I guess there is no off-season in Barcelona. Anyway... much walking about town again today, a brief siesta, then out again around 10pm. That's when the locals are out, and it's much more fun than swimming through the tourists during the day (she said, as if she weren't one). This could easily take star billing as a foodie town. Tonight's repast was a real gem. A Mediterranean/Belgian place with lovely wait staff and an OMG gratin dish of Belgian endive wrapped in cured ham topped with ementhaler cheese and baked in creamy cheese sauce, with chunky fried potatoes covered in herb salt on the side. SLURP. Kids--try this at home! I know I will be when I return. Oh... P.S. the restaurant is on "Ample" street. Oh yeah, that's what I'm going to be by the time I get home!

So what's that big... ahem... thing in the middle of the first picture? It's called Torre Agbar, you can google it. I think I need to see it at night now, by the Wiki description. (Pic is hazy only because of the tinted glass on the tram.)

And the second pic--the wait staff at another restaurant along the way was singing to the policia con gusto, and a crowd was forming to watch. Perhaps they caught someone who skipped out on the check. The police were appreciating the gesture... notice they are recording it on their phones!

Lastly, another stroll through Plaça Reial which is conveniently located near home.

Who needs museums...

...in Barcelona? While they are abundant here, the street artists are prolific, and the price is gratis. This (top pic) is my favorite. Started my walk around 8 a.m. and, with a couple of breaks, returned "home" around 5:30. The highlight of the day was the Boqueria "Mercat St. Josep", the mothership of all open markets. (2nd pic) There I bought some Reblochon cheese for later... then added a Tempranillo (and corkscrew!), olives, and rice crackers, and am having a lovely repast in my own room, listening to Raphael streaming on jango.com, which is kicking out some other good Spanish singers as well. Anyway, Raphael is playing at Teatre Liceu tomorrow night... I'm trying to decide if I want to go.

Just before turning down my Carrer (street), I was invited by a couple of French men to step into the restaurant and help celebrate something-or-other (I couldn't understand that part, but my French was way better than Spanish, still), and they all serenaded me with (possibly) the loudest and (definitely) most exhuberent rendition of "You'll Never Walk Alone" (3rd pic). Now isn't that a good way to end a walk?! Hey, stop that! I couldn't make this s**t up!

Oh, I meant to mention... all my paints made it through security. YEAAA!

Barthelona!

(yes, that is how you pronounce it, Catalonyan style)

Oh my living holy heck. Let me untie my tongue before I begin. I don't know how I can express even a nano particle of the awesomeness I've seen in the brief time I've been here. I arrived in the afternoon terribly exhausted, and am grateful for the instincts that led me to ask how to get into Barcelona, since there was a cheaper way. The velo-bus to Plaça Catalunya, then short cab ride. It is more than astounding when an old Catalan-speaking cab driver (with no GPS, solamente a small dog-eared atlas of maps) wends through a little rabbit warren of cobblestone streets, and actually finds the place, depositing me in front of a dark unmarked building. The unobtrusive buzzer to the side of the 12 ft high gray metal door of Hostal Sol y K generated Maria's voice trilling through the little speaker, "hola, Kay!" as she buzzed me in. And blessed be... an elevator! After a brief lay-of-the-land, I showered and went straight to bed. Ahhhhhh... the sheets are perfumed. I am not kidding, I must import a gallon of their detergent home. I awoke at 4 a.m. on my clock, 11 p.m. on local devices. The sounds and smells of bustling street life wafted through the wooden shutters. Time to go out.

Well. Apparently I have stepped through the looking glass to paradise. Above you will see (pic) my first tapas meal: a courgette omelet, in honor of 4 a.m., and a sangria to toast the 11pm nightlife that was abundant everywhere. This. Is. Crazy. Fabulous. Walking through the maze of Barri Gòtic, which I've plunked down in the middle of, is magical. People are out and engaged with each other in hoards of coolness. The shoes, the clothes, the glasses, the hair, the restaurants spilling onto sidewalks. Streets lined with shuttered shops, but a Tapas bar or club every 15 steps or so. Harlem Jazz Club around the corner. The Temple Bar a few streets further (didn't Hemingway hang out there?) And Placa Riale!!! And then La Rambla, stretching for what may be miles in either direction, to the sea and to the hills.

It appears to be something like 8 a.m. now as I type. Perhaps someone is out at the desk now who can tell me how to get wi-fi'd up so I can post this.

I could not possibly feel any more ecstatic to be here.

Gate 2B moved to 7C, but Seat 9F arrived fine!

I arrived safely, albeit later than I'd hoped, so I dashed straight down to the MFA (Museum of Fine Arts/Boston) for the exhibit Degas Nudes. It was stellar... quite a retrospective. He originally wanted to be a "history painter", and there was some of his early classical drawing there. What draftsmanship!!! Curiously, the exhibit included some Delacroix, Toulousse-Lautrec, and more!... and a Matisse I loved! (Carmelina", 1903--I'd never seen a painting of his that looked like that.) I was going to leave to get some dinner, but then I noticed a sign for "Wednesday night drawing in the galleries" and hey! It's Wednesday night! So I tracked that down, and how cool! Lots of people drawing in the Impressionists gallery... see? (top pic)

They provided paper, pencils and all kinds of fancy art materials, but being pretty pooped from everything and an early early morning flight, I picked a simple pencil and small paper and did this pencil sketch... it's from a Rodin sculpture called "Ceres".

Too bad I raced off without my camera, so phone pics will have to do. Well, it's a start!

Never Any End to....

...Spain! (take-off on Enrique Vila-Matas's title Never Any End to Paris, which I'll be taking on the road with me.)

I guess we could say that Spain began in the corner of my garage. The corner that was vacated by the tall cabinet which cousin Eric gladly took off my hands. The walls had not been painted behind the cabinet, or on the floor under it. I have the paint on hand, but did not get around to laying it down, and so I freely made a mess there instead, priming the canvases I'll be taking... to Spain... on Wednesday!! OMG squared... four more days. Yiiiiiiiiiiii.................