Wednesday, October 19, 2016

European Adventure Day Thirteen - Barcelona

As I've approached the end of my trip I've been more and more restless at night. I wake at 3 or 4 and toss and turn a bit, eventually falling back to sleep.

On this final morning of my trip, I woke at 5 or 6 and tossed and turned. I left the apartment about 8:20 with grand plans. I would go to Escriba, a very well-known patisserie in the city for coffee and a croissant, then call a cab and head straight to Park Gruel (screw that walking stuff) to make my 9-9:30 entry time indicated on my ticket.

When I arrived at Escriba, this is what I found...



I approached a man who was loading a truck with Escriba pastries and asked him when they opened. He translated my question in his head with a pause, and answered "Nine".

I had been misinformed about the 8:30 opening time. I believe it was I who misinformed me. I took a moment to shake my fists at the heavens, and then found a cheesy chain pastry place and got a coffee and a plain croissant (snore) to "take away". I had downloaded a taxi app the day before (Spain doesn't permit Uber or Lyft so this app was their solution).  Except the app wasn't intuitive and didn't appear to call any cabs for me. I hailed one instead and when I got in, it smelled so bad inside I just put my croissant in my purse. Maybe I would be hungry later.

I did get to Park Guell at nine though, and when I entered, I was somehow surprised at how many people were there already. Man, tourists are a pushy lot of people. They must get their photo taken from just the right angle in front of the Gaudi lizard, and they will take as much time as they need to get that selfie right, too!

I've found people in Barcelona to be the most un-self-aware and inconsiderate of all the places I've been on during this trip. It has also had the most tourists of all my destinations, so make of my observation what you will (read; everyone across the world, in general, are out for themselves...at least when it comes to selfies).

I offered to take a couple's picture for them with their phone which they were selfieing with at that moment. They looked at me confused, as if to say we already have someone taking our picture! or The idea of any other photo than a selfie-style one just isn't an option.

People are weird.

I took the most photos here of all places. Gaudi's work is so funky - gothic in one area, then feminine in another, then science-fiction-like here, and then art nouveau there. Really interesting and no shortage of amazing details to photograph.



Yesterday morning when I made my botched attempt to go in, I was told there was a section of the park open to the public. I went to have a look at the time but didn't stay long. Oddly, along the main path you walk on through the public area, there were countless souvenir salesmen with blankets laid out covered in cheap crap. Not only that, but they would heckle you as you walked by. That annoyance combined with my dejection of not getting in to see the good stuff made me leave pretty quick, but today - no hecklers (because I was in the ticket-required area) and an hour plus to look around.













I had about fifteen minutes left before I needed to head out to get a cab, go back to the apartment, finish packing and get another cab to the airport for home. I had 17.50 euros left in my wallet. I looked around and found a mug I finally liked in the gift shop, a cheap piece of jewelry because I hadn't managed to find something anywhere else and, at the last minute, a bookmark. The cashier rang it up  - 17.50 euro.

"Thank you Barcelona and good night!" Reaches arm out and drops mic.

When I grabbed a cab, I told him where I needed to go, pronouncing it to the best of my guessing ability "Por favor, en El Gotic, Placa de Sant Jaume". He repeated it back to me exactly as I had, letting me know he knew where it was. I was very proud that I'd said it right!

Feeling good about the day thus far, I got to thinking, you know what? This part of the trip has had its setbacks, but I'm gonna end this right. "Do you know Escriba?" I asked the driver, "On Las Ramblas?"
He said yes, of course he did. I asked him to drop me there. I was gonna get a damn chocolate croissant from that famous patisserie before I left this continent if it killed me.

And that's exactly what I did (plus another one for later)!

Neat interiors at Escriba




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