November 13/14 - Barcelona

Last full day in Spain.

After breakfast at the hotel we took off walking in a light rain that became a heavy one. Stopped to buy a cheap umbrella and headed off to the beach. It absolutely poured, so much that before we got to the Colon statue my feet were sopping inside my shoes -- I could see water bubbling and squishing out of the seams. I kept praying for the rain to stop -- and you know, it did! And not just for a little while but for about 5 hours, which was extra nice of God.

We followed the waterfront walk past some brightly colored graffiti to Playa Barceloneta and went down the steps to the shore to get her sand and my mom's rocks. We've been picking up sand for the birdie from every beach we've been to since 1993 and she has a great collection of mementos from all over the world. Lacking a film canister (my personal favorite receptacle for beach sand) we used a plastic cup I grubbed from the trash. The waves were dark and dramatic since it had been storming and the water was icy cold but I had to stick my feet in it anyway. I love the ocean -- always have -- so whenever I get close I like to just stand on shore and watch it go in and out. They had built a walkway and on the walkway were a group of concrete lounge chairs, all facing the sea but angled off slightly to the right (south). It took me a minute to realize they were facing the sunrise. That to me speaks Spain perfectly -- a city with a place dedicated just to watching the sun come up each day over the beautiful Mediterranean. We sat down on those chairs to catch a little bit of the weak sunshine and wring out socks and brush off the sand before heading off toward Barri Gotic.

Per my usual dumb luck we came up on the side of Santa Maria del Mar and went in. Saw some older Catalonians laying flowers at the memorial for the martyrs of the War of Spanish Succession -- unfortunately Catalunya picked the wrong side. Walked out the front and headed toward the main cathedral (Le Seu) and just caught the end of mass a 15 minute break and the beginning of another. I made a quick round of all the chapels and made myself small while they started mass again. A and I walked out the front and over to the gift shop and then all around the cathedral area, including an art installation that protested the violation of human rights all over the world. It was the most grotesque thing I had ever seen -- life size bronze statues of mutilated bodies hanging from ropes. If the artist's intent was to disturb, he or she did an excellent job.

For lunch, A picked a Mexican restaurant and after my considerable harassment we had a good lunch. As you can imagine, Mexican restaurants are sort of a novelty in Spain and they're extremely plentiful at home so I found her choice curious but hey, I'm just here to please (and pay the check).

Barcelona is an awesome city, so diverse and interesting. Walking down the sidewalks you hear Catalan, Castilliano, French, German, English, Chinese. This is the off season and a Sunday, yet the sidewalks are filled with people. I can see why people choose Barcelona over Madrid, even though I think both have a lot to offer. I'd love to come back some day.

At 4pm we ducked back in to the hotel so A could gather up her things and at 5 I put her in a taxi. I tried to make the goodbye brief -- anything more would be too hard and I was already feeling so lonely and teary-eyed. I watched her taxi pull away and then since there was a break in the rain I headed back up Passeig de Gracia to Casa Mila for an evening tour. Because of the rain (which came on and off all evening) I couldn't go up on the roof but I toured the apartment and spent some time in the museum, at least until they kicked me out. From the windows in the museum I could see the famous chimneys and that was enough for me. Then it was back to the hotel with a short stop at Pans & Company (a Spanish sandwich chain) for a sandwich -- I'd tell you what I had but I really don't know since the menu was in Catalan but it seemed to be a cheese sandwich on an olive bread. This with the last of my Pringles bought at El Corte Ingles in Murcia made for a quiet last meal in Barcelona. Then I had to tackle the packing while my umbrella, jeans, shoes and socks dried by the radiator. And I realized I needed to get up at 6 and had no clock and no wake up call ... so I set the extra obnoxious siren alarm on my phone and fell asleep to the steady murmur of foot traffic on La Rambla. I've loved being here but I am also ready for home.

Nov 14 - flying home
Spent my last few euro on a chocolate croissant and coke light and bought some candy for T at the duty-free. In Paris I thought I'd gotten off easy and could walk to my gate but instead of walking on to a plane, we walked down some stairs and outside to a bus, which when fully loaded, promptly broke down. We all unloaded (many, many Americans now -- sort of nice to hear the familiar rhythms of my own language) and got on the bus behind us. After a short delay we settled in for the long flight home. Continental's food and amenities aren't as nice as Air France but I did get to watch the Fantastic Four about 3 times. Yippee. In Houston I went through the long lines at customs and headed for my flight to KC. Home at last!

And now ...

it's hard to believe I was ever there. Going through my pictures and journals makes it seems more real but it's hard for me to even say "I was in Spain" with a straight face. When I talk about it I know I wander off in to the land of boring with my historical and cultural background-giving but every facet of the trip was a wonder to me and I don't know that anyone really understands -- except the birdie, who is still living it every day.

Having a passport with a stamp in it has given me wanderlust, even worse than before. I want to go somewhere else now.