TUESDAY 11.12.02 - DAY 11

12 November 2002

DAY 11 - Barcelona – Pt II

Settle back with a cuppa something before you start to read this one kiddies… this turned out to be one… long… long… day!

Chuckie sprung from the bed [OK….OK…. crawled… the late night NOWAT session had taken its toll] and nudged Illy from her deep slumber and dreams of more Chotchkie’s, to call the florist about the card. [He is not so confident of his “un-accented Spanish to navigate this important conversation.]

We found the shop phone had been forwarded to someone’s home and that the shop would open after 10AM so we headed for a quick Desayuno before finally getting through to the florist who confirmed that she did indeed have Chuckie’s Visa card… thus calming the Little Italian Man.

First stop of the day was at the Army headquarters, just coincidently around the corner from the hotel, for the ancestry search. Illy finally pieced together info that a great-great- grand father had been an officer in the Spanish Army during the Cuban war for Independence. This seemed like a good place to get a foundation for the search. With these records she could get some birth dates etc from which to continue the rest of the search.

We found the office we had been directed to the day before and a nice officer, Lt. Amerigo. I commented on his having the same name as the original cartographer of Columbus’ voyages and for how, as the legend goes, by signing the maps with his name, AMERIGO {Vespucci} was credited for naming America. The nice Lt. didn’t quite understand what I meant….but hey…I was trying to be nice here….

After a lengthy conversation, he advised that all records of the Cuban War were stored in Guadalajara and Illy would have to write to the Spanish Army, or leave the information she sought with him before we left. They would research it and write her back. He then directed her to the Office of the Ministrie de Justica just down the street [turn right at the yellow mail box] to begin the Birth certificate search portion of this effort.

Finding the office was easy… getting the info…NOT so easy!!! We “took a Number” [number 82…they were working on number 48!] and proceeded to wait…. and wait…. And…etc…

While waiting, Illy began one last time to try to decipher the info from Tia Zonia to see if she could at least come up with a good starting date from which to launch the search. By the time our number was called, the clerks had changed 3 times. We got a very self-officious fellow who after a little cajoling, softened up a little. Unfortunately the result was…
“Since the Information we sought was prior to 1967… we needed to know the: Barrio, the street, the parish and the house number!!” Of course we had none of that… Hell… we were lucky to have approximate dates, [1905-1910]. To ask for the Barrio, street etc…was a little ludicrous by Illy’s standards… The petty bureaucrat began to get a little stuffy when Illy remarked off hand that we didn’t have this much trouble in Italy looking for info on my ancestors. [To be fair…I had better starting dates.] But still… this guy was not nearly as gracious as Signorina Angela Cardella in Termini Imerese, Sicily.

The end result was “Nada”, Zip, Zero, Zilch… Nothing they would do without this information. Our only hope was the Army, so she decided to put it all together as best she could in letter and leave it with the nice Lt Amerigo and hope for the best.

My bum foot wasn’t up to par this morning or ready for heavy walking, so I decided to take the car out for the day’s sightseeing on our own, and after surprising the poor fellow at the garage a day earlier than he had expected, we watched with amusement as the auto jockey juggled half a dozen cars very deftly in the very tight space to retrieve our car from the very back of the auto dungeon, two levels below the street.

Once on the road, it took no time at all to get lost on the way to the Flower shop, [not really], and, after a snappy illegal maneuver in the middle of Avinguda Paral-lel along with the accompanying Oooofffs… Eeekkkkss… and Madre’ de’s…. from our Ultra Pale navigator… Chuckie parked the car in front of the shop, ducked inside to retrieve the “Truant” card, thanked the nice lady and we were off to see Barcelona…. “Up-Close and Personal” [Ya See… I told ya the flower shop was gonna play a significant part in the story.]

First stop…. The hill Montjüic, home of first-rate museums, excellent sports facilities, beautiful gardens & parks and the Fundacio Joan Miro, the museu of one of Chuckie’s favorite artists. [Rene, you may recall, it was my favorite all purpose room at the RiverHouse]

White Knuckle Navigator Illy tried futilely to figure out where this madman was going. She did not know that Chuckie, having studied the map earlier, had this area figured out and after a few snappy turns on some crowded back streets we quickly found the Plaça de Espanya [every bloody city in Spain has one of these too…] whipped around the monument onto the Avinguda Reina Maria Cristina which led us to the Carretra Montjüic and the Miro Museum. [The man has an uncanny sense of direction once he gets oriented to an area….] It’s just arriving somewhere for the first time with unfamiliar directions that gets us lost so much. Anyone who has traveled with him knows… he will study a map of an area till it tears and he has his orientation. Then with his wacky recall it’s “Look out Citizens… Chuckie is “In Da House”!!!

At the Fundacio Joan Miro, along with a modest entrance fee, the free audio tour complete with headphones and digital recorder, is a must for anyone visiting this wonderful expo of Miro’s life. Photos without flash were allowed and Chuckie took way more pics than he needed since much better ones were on sale as postcards in the gift shop…. but who was brave enough [or insane enough] to stop him… Not the ever-indulging Cuban Lady!!

Next stop was a nice overlook that Illy wanted pics from. She says, “I have a spot just down the hill I want to shoot from”, so Chuckie took her at her word that it was “just down the hill” and immediately swung into an open spot on the side of the road. Of course the spot she had in mind was WAY down the hill at the Plaça Sant Jorge [of St George and The Dragon fame… not sure why he rated a big equestrian statue here but… Hell…. it rated a pic anyway]. Meanwhile, back at the trek down the hill… and down the hill… And down the hill… I hastened to remind this walking fanatic that we had to go back up…. “How about we take the car?” I plead.

“Hey”, she say, “you are the one who wants to work off some of the Buddah belly!!!” and keeps heading down hill… [“Up the hill/and Down the Hill and all around the town of…”…. Ok… you get it.]

We find her photo op spot at the fore mentioned Plaça Sant Jorge and snap a few. We decide to stop for a Cafecito at a cute little coffee kiosk nearby [it measures about 5ft x 8ft and which I hasten to mention, had a full liquor bar!?!?] Seems like any and everyone can dispense liquor just about anywhere in Spain. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the hot dog vender [Perro’s Caliente….. Swear to God…. that’s what the sign says!] on the Gran Via whip out a wine list!!!.

The trek back up the hill had Chuckie composing the “Ode to Barcelona”… one bloody step at a time. We passed the Olympic stadium, found the car and headed back down the hill in the trusty Volvo, [past Plaça Sant Jorge… I swear the woman is a Sadist] for pics at the Palau Nacional.

Finding an open spot in the parking lot, we headed for the front of the place which is on the hill with a Spectacular view of the “Plaça de Espanya and the Avinguda Reina Maria Cristina. We were too late in the year to see the stunning light, water,color and music show of the “Magic Fountain” below the Palau as it ends in September. There is a motion sensor activated escalator [I swear, it starts when you step up to it] to and from the Plaza below in front of the fountain that you can take up and down, to view the fountain and Palau and for pics. We did all the above…and then headed out for the other side of town and the Temple Expiator de la Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s world renowned unfinished work.

But First… getting there with the Wacky American Tourist is just half the fun!!

Now Chuckie may have studied the map… but he had the Ultra White Knuckle Navigator trying to identify the poorly labeled streets for him. We actually found the Temple easily, and then found it again…and again… and again, as we weaved up and down various one-way streets to find a parking garage. After passing the Church for the 4th time… we spotted a “P” that had a “LLURE” sign under it [Catalan Dialect for Libre = Free or Open, as opposed to Completo = Full] and we ducked underground to safeguard the Volvo. A two block walk back to the Church and we were snapping pics all over the place [Mind you the Little Italian shutter-bug is on roll # 23 by now!!]

This stunning work was conceived, designed and initiated by Antoni Gaudi. The unfinished church is a symbolic structure with its three main Façades representing the Nativity on the East, the Passion and Death on the West and the Glory planned on the south. It is a MUST SEE in Barcelona. After a trek up and incredibly dark circular stairway up one tower, across the façade and down the other we needed a break for more pics. The stonework and design is phenomenal, and a trip inside the subterranean museum portion confirmed this man’s genius with samples of his engineering, sculpture and architectural thoughts. UNBELIEVEBLE!

We had bought a combo ticket to the museum in the Church as well as to Gaudi’s house waaaayyyy up the hill in Parc Güell so we hustled through the Museu and back to the car to get there before it closed at 6PM.

Let the Ooooffffing and Eeeeeking begin… once again.

Now Chuckie has already determined the route and all he needed was his trusty Navigator to call out the streets while he concentrated on the brutal rush hour traffic. Not a good idea while she is O…E….M de…..ing…….. So… of course we Blow past Via Agusta which should have gotten us there with easy signs along the way. So now, of course, we have to rely on Chuckie’s innate sense of direction and good North orientation. [He is soooo sure of himself…she is not!!] She swears he is going the wrong way but after a few quick turns through the one way alleys and very steep uphill streets he gets back on Via Agusta to follow the signs to Parc Güell. We blow past the parking lot for the Parc and need a Pirula to get there.

It is now getting near closing time and also dusk is approaching fast. We hustle towards Gaudi’s house at a full trot when Chuckie asks,
“OK where did you put the tickets?”
Illy had picked them up while he was stashing the elusive credit card… safely this time. She replies,
“Don’t we have to buy them”.
“No”, Chuckie replies just a tad annoyed…“they were combo tickets for the Museu at the church AND the house.”
“Oh,” she says, “I left those in the camera case, I thought we didn’t need them anymore.”

Now the lame Chuckie has to hustle back to the car… a block away, grab the tickets…. and hustle back… it is now 5:51PM, the House closes at 6PM. We rush to the House, exchange our tickets for new passes and proceed to rush through a wonderful example of up-close Gaudi work. This guy was Phenomenal. We then proceeded thorough the gardens surrounding his house and head up the winding pathway to the road that circles up the hill for some spectacular night shots of Barcelona, that may or may not come out. We regret not being able to see the rest of Gaudi’s outstanding work in the Parc including the Famous Drac as it was now quite dark and the half-moon was not doing much to help. [The Dragon Lady swears the sculpture of Drac was done in her honor….Drac is Gaudi speak for Dragon]

As we stumble back down the road to the rocky path to the car, Chuckie is mumbling under his breath as he finishes the 2nd and 3rd verses to the “Ode to Barcelona”. By now the Dragon Lady is not finding it humorous anymore, but Chuckie swears that it WILL be recorded and published.

Going back down the steep and winding roads from Parc Güell was lot easier… especially after some fine directions from a tour bus driver and in spite of the full fledged rush hour traffic and a lot of O….E….Y…and Madre de’s from the Extremely White Knuckled Navigator person.

The now “Hungry” Cuban Lady announces that she wants to do something different for dinner tonight…. “How about something on Gran Via” she announces more than asks.
“Ok”, I say…. “Gran Via it is.”

After traveling for some way along the 6-lane street… we discover Gran Via is seriously void of eateries… of any kind. As we pass the Hotel Havana ….she announces, “I want to take a picture of it…. inside.” Of course we are in the middle lane and can’t get over to park for her shot… actually there is NO place to stop, so… sorry Photo Hounds… no interiors of the Hotel Havana in Barcelona for you!

The Now “STARVING” White Knuckle Navigator [hereafter referred to as: WKN] is demanding to be fed… ANYWHERE!!! Soooooo, Chuckie heads for Passeg de Picasso where he thought he had spotted some eateries while weaving around lost on their arrival to Barcelona. No Luck… By know she is making teeth Gnashing noises and looking at his arm and drooling…
“OK…I get the point,” I mumble, “Lets park this thing near the hotel… you can freshen up and they can recommend something nice… other than Tapas in the Barri Gotic.”

With the Volvo safely stashed in the garage down the street, we hustle to the hotel, to freshen a little, and the desk clerk recommends a nice place “right around the corner” [we know how those places can be] and head out to see if it is really worth it. We find it easily… It really is “just around the corner” however… It is now 8:15PM…. The restaurant doesn’t open for dinner until 8:30PM but it is pitch black. No signs or intelligent life [or otherwise] inside or anywhere around. We figure that this must be a fluke, or they took a vacation and didn’t tell the hotel, so we headed for Las Ramblas and “ANYTHING DAMMIT”. [Strange name for a Restaurante in Barcelona] but I wasn’t about to argue with her now and headed out to find this mysterious place with the really Strange Name of “Anything Dammit”!!!

As we wound our way through some very interesting streets in the Barri, we stumbled upon a neat little Internet spot…. a loft in a Wash-a-teria. A really clever idea, [Sudz and Cyber] but they only had a Lynux system. With no Microsoft Word or other MS products, we decided it would not work for us later, AFTER I had fed her. [And I had better be quick with it as she was not shy in reminding me that she was H U N G R Y!!!] To be fair… the only thing we had to eat all day was breakfast at the hotel.

We passed an interesting looking place, which was not open yet… with a line stretching down the block! [It was now 8:25Pm and they open at 8:30PM. This waiting until the precise minute to open appears to be the norm around town.] Wow…. There just may be something Good going on here, but the ravenous Dragon Lady says we need to keep moving…. The line was too long for her to wait. .

Soooooo…. Moving right along we head onto Las Ramblas and try to find something that interests her. In spite of her edict “Anything” [Casa Joan… of the first night’s debacle, WAS NOT AN OPTION!] We spot a sign advertising Tablao Flamenco and even though we felt we had our fill of Flamenco from Granada, we crossed to see what that was about. We entered an interesting Moorish lobby complete with double ended fountains leading to a Staircase which brought us to a interesting looking room with a lavish Buffet, followed by a Flamenco show…. but not at $50.00 Each! [Besides…we really were Flamenco’d out.]

At this point I turned to her and said, “Ya know…. any place with a line down the block and it wasn’t even open can’t be all that bad….” and we headed back to “La Fonda Escudellers” to see what it was all about.

When in Barcelona, and you happen to be on Las Ramblas, and just happen to make a right on Plaza del Teatro and wander down a block or two and find yourself in front of La Fonda Escudellers…..
GET IN THE DAMN LINE… Fast!!!!!

Let me rephrase that:

When in Barcelona in the evening, you Will hustle your butt to go north on Las Ramblas, you WILL turn right at Plaza del Teatro, you WILL head down the street to “La Fonda Escudellers” and
YOU WILL GET IN LINE… [if before 8:30PM]

or just brave the security guard outside to BEG entrance and prepare yourself for one of the finest meals you will ever enjoy in Barcelona!!!!!

Sit back kiddies…. its drool along with Chuckie time… again.

We arrived at La Fonda Escudellers to find the line gone but a pleasant security type who inquired if we were interested in dinner for two. We acknowledged that we were indeed there for dinner and he ushered us in. We were graciously greeted by the manager Able [a young Pakistani gentleman] and escorted to cozy table in the already packed dining room. We were immediately approached by a lovely lady from the Philippines, [2/3 of the staff are Philippino…. with no particular reason] and presented with menus. A moment later the ever-present “Bread & Olives” cover arrived [which is most restaurants in Europe’s excuse to tack an additional charge on the bill for sitting down.] The menu was quite interesting with a typical “Menu Del Dia” presented as well, which had a mix of dishes from various regions as the first and second plate choices and includes wine or water and dessert or coffee. We opted to go ala carte.

Illy chose the mixed Salad with Roquefort, Salmon, endive, Arrugala, mixed olives, cherry tomatoes, white and golden raisins. I asked about the house specialty soups and our waitress recommended the Sopa de Pescado as opposed to the Crema des Frutas del Mar. I was a bit leery but went for it.

The couple at the next table seemed to have already made the same choice and was just exchanging plates to share. Sooooooo… you know Chuckie… he piped up and says, “Excuse me…. But how is that?” They enthusiastically confirmed that we had made some good first selections and we settled back with an excellent Marquis De Caceres from Rioja to see how the first course would come out.

Drizzled with extra Virgin Olive Oil and a splash of lovely red wine vinegar, Illy’s salad was a delightful blend of explosive flavors and tastes with the not-too sharp Roquefort complementing the salmon and creating some new sensations with the raisins.

My Sopa?????? OUTSTANDING!!! The large, steaming bowl had an exotic aroma and such brilliant flavors that I have not experienced since I can’t remember when. Large chunks of at least 5 different kinds of fish and potatoes… awash in almost a Chowder style broth with its rich tomato base, and just the right touch of garlic and spices. WOW… What a start!!!

I was getting excited now! [Cantcha tell?] Not wanting to jinx it too soon I couldn’t help remarking to Illy that if they kept this up…. I was definitely going into the kitchen and hijacking the Chef on the spot.

Our main course arrived, Illy’s, slow roasted Chicken dish with an exceptional regional sauce that had subtle hints of basil, cuminos, garlic, and paprika in a light creamy reduction sauce accompanied by a great blend of white and wild rice spiked delicately with fresh herbs and spices.

I enjoyed the Filetta de Ternera, a perfectly prepared regional cut that resembled a Nicaraguan Churasco, with juices flowing and excellent flavors. I had balked at the normal accompaniment of Papas Fritas, and was offered an excellent oven roasted tiny Rosemary potato, halved and finished with a sauté of olive oil and Catalan Spices.

Chuckie was now in Heaven! The staff was very attentive yet not intrusive, even crossing obvious station lines to help each other’s diners.

The table was properly crumbed to erase the mess Chuckie had made with the bread while attempting to wipe up every last drop of the outstanding sauces and the desert menu was presented.

By now Chuckie has made friends with most of the staff around our table including Able, the Pakistani Manger, who was ironically raised in Iowa of all places. We asked for some suggestions after seeing several lavishly decorated “Postres” pass the table, [Hey…. maybe I can find a pastry chef here for the Registry?] Able put the nix on that right off, but did offer a tour of the establishment after dinner and a promise to see who he knew in the area that might be interested in relocating to America.

We settled on a Crema de Catalan con Freses, sorta like a Crème Brulee with Strawberries. “Ay que RICO”, Fabulouso!!!

After an exchange of business cards [Able gave us all the cards of the owners 13 restaurants!] we got the grand tour of all 3 floors of this delightful find in Barcelona. With pics around [obviously], we headed back to the hotel, down some decidedly questionable streets [Chuckie picks the strangest times to explore the seedier side of town] right past the restaurant recommended by the hotel, which was now open… They only open for 3 hour for dinner and were about to close. Oh Welllllll…

Since we were supposed to head out early the next day for Madrid we did a preliminary pack and while Illy crashed, I finished another late NOWAT.

[They are on the last leg and rounding the far turn… headed for the finish line…]

What’s in store next for the Wacky American Tourist and the Chotchkie mad Cuban Lady????
Stay tuned for the thrilling account of their wild ride back to Madrid through Catalunya and Aragon in the middle of….

Sorry… ya gotta wait for the next NOWAT to hear more.

Ciao 4 NowChuck and the finally walked out but very Chotchkie laden, Cuban Lady