Baaaaar-celona where the sweat goes dripping down your spine…

One Little Bit of a Park Bench

 

…Where the wave of heat can wreck your feet but you’ll still be having a good time. Baaar-celona every day is filled with something new. You can take a walk and shop or gawk and you’ll never tire of the view. It’s home of the proud Catalan, all the Gaudis and excellent ham. And when I say, YO quiero repite! OH! I’m really saying I’m coming back Barcelona,  on a much cooler day. B-a-R-C-e-l-O-N-A. BARCELONA. OLE! 

In case you were trying to read that and didn’t know what on earth it was, it is intended to be sung to the tune of Oklahoma! (Want to try again?)

I’ve come to believe that Barcelona is out to get me with her weather. The first time I went there it was freezing. I had all of the wrong clothes for that. This time it was sweltering. And you can guess what sort of clothes I had. Correct! The wrong ones. I’m wonderinng if she is trying to get me to come back again. Three, after all, is the charm, right? Here’s the scoop, from even before it got really, really hot.A few hours after my friend Debra flew back to San Fran, I was on a plane to the wonderful city of Barcelona to lead another workshop. This time I was to lead it with my friend Dori from Israel. Dori and I know each other from a leadership program we both attended in 2003. This was an exciting moment, to be leading a workshop with Dori. Our leaderhship group was known to be a little bit rebellious. (Dori had nothing to do with that, but yours truly did.) I’m surprised anyone would trust a duo spawned from such a group to be responsible for an entire workshop. The good news is that we had a great time and so did our students. Some troublemakers can do a good job. (Dori, I’m talking about me, not you.)

Me and Dori Celebrating a Job Well Done.. in the heat!

Our group of students, assistants and interpretor were lovely, lively and full of human magic. Exactly the sort of collection of people you would find in one of the world’s most intriguing places.

Our hotel and workshop venue was right on the beach, near the Port Olimpic. This is a more modern part of the city, and I have not spent much time there. It was beautiful at night, walking along the beach in perfect weather… at least at first.

EAT - Though we were working during the day, the evenings were free for excellent dinners al fresco (mostly seafood) at “the docks” nearby or in the city with other people we know there.  There were a number of varieties of fish I have never heard of. Everything I tried was good. Here is a picture of Dori’s sea bass one night. And they say american portions are out of control! He had an extra plate just to hold some of it.

Super-size me, por favor!

Spain has really tasty olives and I love how these restaurants brought us plates full of them as we waited for our food. They also have excellent wines. In fact, Spain is the only country where we are served wine with lunch while leading workshops. Right on! Of course, I mostly abstained, being the reformed trouble-maker and all.

And of course you can’t go to Spain and not have some tapas. The first night in I met Dori near Passeig de Gracia and we had some excellent asian-fusion tapas, of all things. Barcelona is a bit like San Francisco in that you can find very imaginative restaurant concepts and dishes there.

I didn’t do a good job of writing down restaurant names, but here is one where we had an excellent meal. Tonorio, also on Passeig de Gracia. We dined there with a couple of business friends who live there – Eric and Clarke. Thanks, Clarke for making reservations at this excellent place. After we were done, I watched with a little envy as Clarke hopped on a cute little red bike to ride home. (See more about the red bikes in PLAY.)

PLAY - I don’t think you can talk about Barcelona without thinking about play. From the surreal architecture to the beachy atmosphere and the love of anything creative this town is “play city.” It’s funny. In Paris they have these public bikes you can pick up and drop off in various places. They are a nice silver gray color with very elegant design lines. In Barcelona they have the same thing, only their bikes are bright red, white and black. One tire is small, there is a light on the back and a bell that goes ding. Grown up bike – Paris. Kid’s bike – Barcelona. The bikes say it all. If you watch the videos in this post, you’ll see red bikes whizzing by in two of them.

While we had lots of play in our workshop, as usual, there was play going on all around us. At the same time we were in the hotel on Saturday and Sunday teaching people how to listen to one another and ask powerful questions, there were literally millons of people converging on the beach outside for some big Red Bull Air Race.

Just the thought of a pilot drinking Red Bull makes me nervous. And to think they were buzzing our hotel and doing loopty-loops directly over us is not too comforting. They do know how to build well insulated hotels there, though. We barely heard a peep from this giant event. We did get to see replays of it on a jumbo screen as we walked along the beach Sunday night. I was glad I didn’t know what they were doing while it was happening.

And speaking of well insulated, let me just say that our hotel was great at holding sound out and trapping air IN. On Sunday, when the temperatures soared, the air conditioning broke. Our participants began to slowly melt. We started to feel like we were suffocating. The meeting room then developed an ever so slight whiff of eau d’ locker room. Our interpretor, bless her heart, was working the hardest of anyone and I thought she might pass out from the heat. We kept dragging the participants to whatever cooler spot or meeting room we could find so we could keep going. Then we’d heat that room up, suck out all the oxygen and move to another. Bless their hearts, our Spanish friends were great sports.

I stayed on Monday just to re-visit some of my favorite spots. I was very excited to return to Parc Guell, one of Gaudi’s creations. When I was there two years ago I was so cold I couldn’t enjoy it.  I said to myself, “Won’t it be great to lounge around in this glorious park and be warm?” Be careful what you wish for!

 I set out for the day in the only sleeveless top I brought, some jeans and, alas, my new brazilian plastic shoes. (The brand of this shoe is Melissa. Their tag line is. Melissa. Plastic Dreams. I had Melissa: Plastic Nightmare. )They were so comfortable in the hotel meeting room. Like little foot-hugging air matresses. Let me just say now that these shoes are not made for walkin’ in 90+ degrees. It didn’t take long for the blisters to start. In fact, by the time I got off the metro and made it to the base of the hill up to the Parc, I was wincing in pain.  It is a big hill. So big, they even have outdoor esclators outside to help you get up there. At the foot of the hill I saw a cute little shop with enticing flowered leather flip-flops in the window. Score! Not only would they be cool, but there was a pair that matched my outfit. I popped in, placed them on my feet, and walked out with my plastic paris/brazil dream shoes in a plastic bag. Up, up, up and into the park.

Cute? Si. But what did they do to my feet? Read on.

What a fantastic and whimsical place this is. All undulating shapes and structures and  mosaics that Gaudi is famous for. Gingerbready buildings and creativly shaped spaces are everywhere. And there was music everywhere. I heard everything from flamenco to Cold Play. Every corner I turned there was a musician, or someone selling interesting jewelry, or lovers stealing a kiss. Here is some video of the park. Like other things, it really can’t be captured, but maybe you can imagine it or pretend you are returning if you have been there. I suggest imagining it about 10 degrees cooler, though.

Alas, as I went to leave I realized my new flip-flops were not as foot friendly as I’d hoped. I now had blisters on the tops of my feet as well. I soldiered bravely on, though. I was determined to take a walk down La Rambla and also to do some shoe shopping. Yes, I love shoes everwhere, but Barcelona has some of the most imaginitive casual shoes I’ve seen anywhere. I was hoping to find something unique, comfortable and just a little wild by parisian standards.

By the time I got to the Placa Catalunya I was beside myself with discomfort. I was so mad at myself for those summer clothes and shoes hanging uselessly in my Paris apt. I sat down on a bench and had my first cry of the trip. It wasn’t long. Just a little whining laced with tears, which might have really been perspiration. Then I picked myself up and said to myself, “This is a beach town. It may be October, but there must be a pair of rubber flip flops within 500 yards of me.” Switching back to the plastic shoes, which were now the lesser of two evils, I limped into a cheapo shoe store. There they were. Rubber flip flops for 3 euros. Can I just say that I’ve never felt more indebted to a pair of flip-flops lke I was to those? Oh, what a difference comfortable feet make.

Now, if you have never rambled along La Rambla in Barcelona you have missed a glorious combination of history, culture, tourist trap, pick-pocket hangout, performance art, indulgance AND just plain fun. If you want it, you can buy it or see it along La Ranbla. And whatever “it” is you want to see, it will be displayed or created in large and most unusual way. Yes! You can buy a pet bunny… or an iguana. Yes! You can drink the largest draft beer I have ever seen. Yes! You can go to a peep show. Yes! You can see one of the most colorful, gorgeous outdoor markets you can imagine (La Boqueria.) Yes! You can see people dressed as everything from Michael Jackson to Senora Vegetable Patch.  Hold on to your purse or your wallet and walk your gawk. And when you get from one end to the other you’ll be at the Port of Barcelona, see a giant Christopher Columbus monument, the Maritim Museum, walk on a very cool bridge and marvel at the beautiful sea and boats. DingDing! Watch out! Someone just whizzed by on one of those red bikes, grazing the hair on your arms!

Then you can turn around and take it all in going the other direction. If you get a hankering, you can take a right or left down some cobblestone streets at any time and find some of the world’s greatest little shops. Lot’s of colorful stuff, mostly designed and made locally. They have their own style in Barcelona and it is full of energy and fun. (See a little bit more in SHOP.) 

Once my feet had been freed from their fiery hell and were happily bounding along with rubber soul, I was free to enjoy La Rambla. Here are some highlights. Be sure to watch all the way to the end, so you can see the King of Pop do his moves.

As I began to make my exit from this place, I ran across this lively reggae band. Microguagua. They had me entranced. Their music was great, and in spite of the heat they were dancing and vamping it up for the crowd. They even got us to sing along with them. After watching them prance around waving their CDs in an act of charmingly shameless promotion, I said “what the heck and bought one.” Here’s a little clip of my new favorite Barcelona reggae band. This will be one of today’s theme songs. It is their band theme song, I guess.

SHOP – While my unfortunate wardrobe planning did put a damper on my shopping experience, I’m happy to report that I found 2 unique and wonderful items in Barcelona. One was a casual dress at a store called Thot, on one of those little streets off La Rambla. (Lots more women wear dresses and skirts over here – with tights and leggings and boots and what have you. Being mostly a pants girl, I’ve been up for some experimenting.) Everything  at Thot was designed in Spain, and most of it made there too. The other item I found, but not that day, are my new favorite pair of shoes. (Yes, Melissa Plastic Dreams, I still love you, but you’ll have to share me now. And I’ll never wear you without socks in hot weather again!)

I’ll admit, I thought I was going home without what I was seeking – a pair of what I call “euro-sneaks”. Spain makes great shoes that look like sneakers, but not the american kind. I looked and looked and even tried some on that day. (I was thankful that when you ask for a sock to try on a shoe there they give you a plastic bag to put over your foot. This is helpful and more hygenic when you have rubbed your feet raw to the point of oozing. Eeww, I know,  but they were.)

Anyway, despite my quest for the perfect pair of euro-sneaks, I returned to my hotel empty footed. It was in the Barcelona airport the next morning (newly remodeled with some excellent local merchandise shops) that I fell in love. Check these out! Is it a boot? A sneak? A euro-sneak-boot? Who knows. These are so comfortable. I wore them home on the plane. And they have walked me all around Paris now… which is much cooler than Barcelona. And these hot shoes are much cooler than Paris sneaks. Trust me on that. Paris has incredible shoes, but not nearly the caliber of Barcelona when it comes to the sneaker-like varieties.

Hi. We're Stephanie's new best friends. We're much cuter in person.

 Here’s the second theme sone for this post. New Shoes by Paolo Nutini.

I’m contemplating future cities for another EatPlayShop temporary living chapter. Should it be Barcelona? Readers, feel free to express your opinion.

The Jacques Report – In Spain, I guess I would have to change it to the Juan Report. While I’m pretty sure no one wants a sweaty, dehydrated woman with oozing feet, I actually was followed by one guy. I’ll call Juan the Leering, Smoking Stalker. Probably had some weird blistered foot fetish. I ditched him by ducking into a shoe store, of all things!

Words from the W. C.  Did I tell you that on La Rambla you see people dressed as everything? Well in case you didn’t believe me, here you go! Or should I say Here HE goes.

Juan on the John

Another little thing I have to report. In my hotel they had the usual notice about not wasting water in several languages. You know, the request to throw the towels you want replaced on the floor, and keep the rest? Well, that request was followed my another one that made me chuckle. “Please avoid flushing abuse.” I think I know what they meant, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that locker room prank where the bully holds the poor freshman’s head in the bowl while flushing. Please tell me that no one is doing this in my nice hotel!

And there is one more word from the W.C. At Parc Guell in the restroom they were rationing out the T.P. A very nice woman handed me 4 squares as I entered, and pointed me to the ladies side. OK. First of all, what are you supposed to do with this when you are handling all of the other things you have to handle before you, um, use the facilities? Hold it in your teeth? And what happens if you drop it? Do you have to yell out “Ayudame! En stall numero dos! Mas papel, por favor!” And what if no one shows up to save you? I’m just saying, this was a first. I did manage, but I’m not sharing any details.

That’s all for now. Buenas Noches. I’ll try to get my other report about my trip to Heidelberg up here before my next special guests arrive. But it probably won’t happen.

I”m delighted to welcome my very wonderful niece Sarah and Sister-in-Law Denise to Chez Stephanie tomorrow. Sarah is a High School senior this year, and when I extended the invitation to them to come see Paris I thought it was a long shot.  Turns out the both of them are in the mood for a little adventure and were able to make it happen. I’m so excited to have  them for a whole week +.  We have quite a schedule planned. Stay tuned. I’ll be reporting when I can.

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