MONDAY 11.11.02 - Day 10

DAY 10 - Barcelona – Part I

“Ode to Barcelona”
[Words and Music by The Wacky American Tourist, Melody and Screen Play - TBD]


“Up the Hill/‘n’ Down the Hill
and all around the town - of Bar-ce loooooo-na.
“The Cuban Lady walked me here/she walked me there
and then we walked some more.”

“Up the stairs/ ‘n’ down the stairs
and up some stairs again - in Bar-ce loooooo-na!
I swear we saw each part of town/the hills, the parks
And every Chotchkie store!…. and maybe more”!


Ok…Ok…. I’ll finish if for you later…perhaps dear heart, you will be one of the fortunate few [Fortunate???] who will have it performed for you in person by non other than the WAT himself. [Now there’s a scary thought!]

But dear hearts, that’s pretty much the story of Barcelona from the perspective of my feet! This Crazy woman had me hiking from one bloody end of town to the other and back again…

It all started Monday morning when we arose very early by WAT [Wacky American Tourist] Standards …7:30AM! Even the bloody alarm clock cooperated this time [Dammit] and we ran for quick buffet in the hotel Salon de Desayuno [nice but limited buffet] and then got some final directions to where we were to meet the tour. [Apparently they don’t pick up in the narrow streets of the Barri’ Gotic… Hell… even the Moto’s have a challenge here!]. Our cheerful desk clerk advised it was only a few minutes walk from the hotel… [I was a bit skeptical from my calculations of streets on the map] but grudgingly agreed with the Cuban Lady that we would walk. By the time we got to the main street our pace was a mild trot as we realized it was a bit farther than we thought. We vacillated about taking a bus but with 8 routes to choose from at this stop, and not knowing exactly where they went… we then discussed a cab. Illy said,
“Awww cummon…. It’s just up the hill….”

Her story changed after the 9th block of the “Up-The Hill” trot… and… we still had a few blocks to go. The pace was by no means slow but we had to get to the Gran Via [every bloody Spanish City seems to have a Gran Via of some sort] and then find the rendezvous. We galloped past the Ritz where they were having the last 2 concerts in the World Jazz festival [Damn… missed it again] and across 6 lanes of traffic [Oooofffff….Eeeeeekkk …Yegaddss…Madre de…… Ok …Ok…you get it]. We are now galloping along looking at store numbers and don’t seem to be getting any closer to the PullmanTour terminal office. [Yup…the same fellows who ran the mediocre “Panoramic tour of Madrid”] We were a bit apprehensive, but since it was already paid for… what the Heck!
We came to the place where it was supposed to be and… No PullmanTour office at Gran Via, 69.… Hell, there WAS NO Gran Via 69!!! Now what???

Were are on the corner of Calle Bruc and Gran Via and cant find it. But…on the other side of Calle Bruc, Illy spots the “Hotel Havana” and laughs out loud while she is snapping a pic for the “What’s This Doing Here” part of the album, I then spot the tour office around the corner on Calle Bruc… not Gran Via. [gotta remember to tell OLE about that]

We hurry to check in only to find that the 9:15AM departure is in “Latino Time” Mas o Menos… [more of less!!!] Now the Cuban Lady is panting and cussing under her breath, something about galloping Little Italian Men…etc…. so we climb on the bus to find a seat, catch our breath… and wait for the tour to begin.

Around 9:45 [Mas o Menos] the bus cranks up… [Ahhhh cool air] and we head out for a Panorama of Barcelona.

To be fair… this panoramic tour was much better than the one in Madrid. Although initially still in two languages, once the guide determined that the English speaking contingent far outnumbered the Spanish ones she made most announcements in English first and then translated. We also made a couple of lengthy stops to visit certain key areas. During these sorties, she would give a lengthy dissertation in English and then tell the English speakers to head on for pics and a closer look while she translated for the Spaniards.

After a brief run through a few important plazas and traffic circles, we headed for the Cathedral of Barcelona in the heart of the Barri Gotic which was once an ancient fortified Roman Village. The Cathedral is adjacent to a cloister which houses 13 geese, symbolic of the 13 tortures that the resident martyr endured in defiance of the Romans. The Barri Gotic also houses many historic monuments including 4 Corinthian columns that were part of the Roman temple to Caesar Augustus and a millstone imbedded in the pavement there marking the summit of the small hill called Mons Taber, the highest point of the Village which was in a forest at the time. We then moved to the Placa de San Jaume, administrative center of the City. After pictures all around, we returned to our bus parked at the Plaça de Ramon Berenguer el Gran with the equestrian statue of Ramon Berenguer III which stands adjacent to remnants of the original Roman walls and a broken section of the “Old” Palau Real Major [Royal Palace] with a 120ft high bell tour.

We then took a roundabout through the port of Barcelona, past the Casino Barcelona [did not get a chance to make a withdrawal at the crap tables] and around the Plaça de Colon and monument to Columbus. [Gee, they really seem to like this Italian guy now even though he died in a political prison…they have a Plaça de Colon or Gran Via De Colon in practically every major city in Spain.].

We were headed for the top of MontJuic site of 1929 Worlds Fair and the 1992 Olympics. [Remember the lighting of the Olympic Torch with the Flaming Arrow?] It also is the home of the Fundacion Joan Miro, the Palau Nacional [National Palace – now a museum] and the Poble Espanyol. We first stopped at a great overlook for pictures, and then wound up the serpentine road past the Fondacio Joan Miro a marvelous museum and arts center, to the Olympic stadium for a break. Then we were off for an exploration of the Poble Espanyol, a complex built in 1972 comprised of full-scale replicas of the various architectural structures from different Spanish regions. Here it is possible to visit a typical corner in Castile, Andalusia, Galicia or even Catalonia with a multitude of typical craft workshops, some of which still performing the crafts and arts as they were in the 13th-17th centuries. There is an actual functioning glass blowing factory [Forn de Crystal] where we saw glass pitchers crafted from scratch.

We left the tour at Poble Espanyol as they were only going back to the terminal and we had been advised that nearby there was an important location for Illy to proceed with her ancestral search. Unfortunately it was a dud. We had lunch at a nice spot in the Plaza Mayor of the Poble and then walked down a long, steep, winding road to the Avignuda Reina Maria Cristina to the Placa de Espanya and its fabulous view up the hill of the Palau Nacional.

Deciding it would be a good way to see more of Barcelona, we elected to walk back to the hotel and look for an Internet spot on the way. We headed down the Avignuda Paral-lel and stumbled onto a Florist shop [ironically we later found it to be the very one recommended by the hotel] to send some flowers to Elena Gibaja in Madrid as a small token of our Thanks for all the courtesies when we were there.
[While this stop may seem irrelevant to our saga… it plays a large part in the events of the next day.]
We picked out a lovely basket arrangement, paid with our Visa Card [Visa - it’s every where you want to be!] and inquired about the whereabouts of an internet connection. The shopkeeper had no idea, since the whole tech thing confused her so we bade the lovely flower lady “A-Dios” and were off.

Not 2 blocks from the flower shop, we came across a little Internet loft and proceeded to send off a late NOWAT. After checking mail etc, we began the long trek to the hotel. My foot and leg were beginning to act up and we debated the bus thing again but decide it wasn’t worth the hassle of deciphering the route map and kept walking.

We had another lead on possible help for the ancestral search, the Military headquarters near the hotel. After a brief stop there we were directed to return in the morning after 9:30AM. We found the hotel around the corner, not a moment too soon for a quick shower and lively discussion about dinner.

Illy decided she wanted to try Seafood at one of the many Restaurants at the port so that’s where we headed. Now this is a real Hot spot later in the evening but at the moment, of the 25 or more restaurants, only the “TaPaS Bar” and a place called “Moncho’s Chipiron” seemed to be busy. Since we were Tapas’d out for the time being it was Moncho’s for the night.

After several suggestions from the waiter, we chose the Menu Del Dia [a popular device of most Spanish restaurants which normally includes and choice of appetizer or salad, Entrée, Desert or café and wine, all for usually a bargain price]. They also had a little jazz band in the corner that appeared to be students. We made a request they did not have in their “Repertory” [???] but they gracefully dedicated a nice tune to “Missus Ileana”. We enjoyed the rest of our Catalan Wine, toasted the band for their kindness and called for the check. When the bill arrived and we verified the amount, Chuckie reached for his credit cards only to find…. his Visa was missing!!! Not panicking quite yet… he says, “Ok… where’s my Visa card…do you have it Dear?” Illy innocently replies, “No dear, did you leave it in the room?” “No” he replies…”I always have it here in my travel wallet…. And it’s not here now!”

Now the panic sets in. After a brief discussion and look at the day’s receipts, we determine that it was most likely left at…. [Taaaa - Daaaa]…. The Flower shop! Chuckie thought Illy picked it up as he was storing the Telefloral order, and Illy thought Chuckie had it. Ok… not to worry…. we’ll check in the morning and if they don’t have it, with the time difference back home, we have enough time to cancel it and challenge all charges after the flower shop.

Upon returning to the hotel, we left a message on the florist’s recorder regarding the card advising that we would be by in the morning to pick it up. [Given that it IS there after all… once again proving that the ever anal Chuckie is periodically fallible… not that he would admit it in polite company]

It was way past the Cuban Ladies bed time, so Chuckie settled in to write a NOWAT from Seville and crash a bit later.

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion to the “Saga of the Missing Visa Card”. [well… maybe not Exciting for you…..but then…..you aren’t a highly excitable Little Italian Man…]

Ciao 4 Nnow
Chuck and the anxious to get on with it, Illy