I met my room mate the next morning, he arrived when i was asleep but was very considerate. His name was Dag, pronounced daaarg, if he ever visits Australia he will be most grateful that dag is also used as a term of endearment. Dag was from Sweden and was heading to Lisbon with his bike for 2 weeks riding. He never quite made it day one however as there was only one train on which he was allowed to take his bike and that had left. He was succesful day 2 however, I hope he had better weather at his destination location than Barcelona was having.Australian farts smell differently that Spanish farts, I know this because everyone on the bus was giving me strange looks and visually accusing me of being the offender who released the distasteful odour in the bus. They were correct of course but I'm not sure how they decided it was the bloke in the red T shirt. I suppose if you are going to fart in a crowded bus then you have to face the consequences. In my defence however it was an accident and society was to blame.
Parque Gaudi was the first stop via autobus numero sessenta y cuatro. I have been teaching myself Spanish for a while now but this was the first chance to test it on native Spanish speakers. My most useful phrase taught to me by the very helpful, and as I was later to find out the most social, Ronald was habla mas lento por favor or speak more slowly please. Ronald was a native of the Netherlands and spoke dutch, English, Spanish and French. The bus stop was only 5 minutes walk from the hostel as was the excellent metro system, so far the 3 cities I have been in are spoiled for public transport, Melbourne could learn a lot from these cities although the population densities no doubt change the economics.
The evil bus driver took me about 2 kilometres past my stop which was entirely my fault of course, but blame shifting is a good way make yourself feel better when you stuff up. I back tracked on foot to Parque Gaudi, the 2 kilometres was not an issue but it was unfortunately uphill also. I hope none of those blisters on my feet burst, I could imagine walking would be quite painful if that happened. The parque was bursting with tourists; it was an amazing spectacle of architecture and the mosaics were absolutely captivating. One added advantage of the location was the commanding views over the city of Barcelona. The tiered gardens were also quite magnificent. The place was alive with flamenco guitarists and people selling crappy souvenirs probably made in China.
One interesting fact that came out of the trip to Parque Gaudi was that the higher up you go the fewer American and Japenese tourists there are. When I got to the top tier of the park to take some scenery photos there was a complete absence of them.
The remainder of my day was mainly walking downhill through some very social plazas, and through the beautiful old town district. Lunch was at a cafe called Bember where they spoke very little english. One of the things I had to ask people was to please talk to me in Spanish so I could continue the learning process. This wasn't a problem in Bember in fact the reverse was true, trying to get tapas vegetariano proved to be a lengthy affair but I got there in the end. The waiter, Nestor, came over later to find out where I was from, he did speak some english and proved a very useful teacher. Some blanched almonds, vegetable soup, mushrooms and two glasses of vino blanco later it was time to go. The staff kindly posed for a photo as I left.
The main market in Barcelona was the highlight of the day, the mushroom stall had some very strange varieties that we would not see in Australia (and some we would). I'm sure with enough time and patience you could poke a stick at all of them but you would need lots of both. The stall holders had a definite sense of artistry in the way they arrange their fruit and vegetables, it seemed a shame to buy them and upset the . Next door was "Hogan's" an aussie bar in Barcelona. They had Fosters Lager on tap but apart from that and the plastic crocodile on the wall it was not really very aussie. The two bar staff were also not from Australia, Ursula was from Slovenia and Lisa from Sweden; the Irish bar in Marseille at least had more than one Irish beer on tap. I bought an Argentinian beer solely because I have never had it before and left a short time later. Not that there was anything wrong with the place in general but I was there to look at Barcelona not the inside of an Aussie bar with a Jewish owner staffed by a Slovenian and a Swede serving Argentinian beer to poms.
The old part of the City of Barcelona is made up of beautiful old buildings shading narrow lanes. The general cleanliness of the place was a start contrast to Marseille and Milan. Milan wasn't that dirty, just full of dog poo; Marseille had slightly less dog poo (and one slightly flattened dog poo) but there was a fair amount of rubbish in the streets. Barcelona had no dog poo or rubbish, the former of which was probably assisted by relatively small number of dogs compared with the other two cities.
New Room mate Ronald and I went to a bar near the hostel for some relaxing drinks and food in the evening. Ronald spoke Spanish, Dutch and French and is a wallpaper hangeruperer, he does not like the title interior decorator because they have a reputation that he was not willing to have associated with himself. For some reason the poem from Robert Lowell called "Skunk Hour" sprung to mind because of the line
"And now our fairy decorator brightens his shop for fall."
So Ronald hangs wallpaper, not the cheap stuff you get in a local hardware but a high quality vinyl product with a very intricate textured mosaic pattern. He was in Barcelona hanging paper in a fertility clinic, his description of the interior of the clinic made it sound a very interesting place. Ronald also plays curling, so his denials about his sexuality are on shakey ground but he still gets the benefit of the doubt supported by evidence of his wandering eyes when nice young ladies walk through the bar.
We were Joined by Romina, a tennis coach originally from Essex in England but living locally and Anna who was an engineering student in Barcelona. I'm not sure what the English know about tennis, apart from being the inventors of the game, but Spain has been far more succesful in recent (and not so recent) times. I'm not sure if Romina is the reason for their success but if I were her I would be making that claim. Romina could speak Spanish and English of course, Anna could speak Spanish, French and, despite her claims that she was not that good at it, quite good English. We got back to the hostal at about 1.30 am but we had to be quiet as Dag was sound asleep. It was a big day and the blisters on my feet were getting bigger.
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