- Darryl Darwin -: Barcelona March 2015 Second 3rd,

Barcelona.

March 2015

A Walk, March 15th

There had been a cold and rainy spell come through that had settled in for some days, but fortunately it broke on the 15th. This break allowed for a long overdue walk.

Like the walk at the Llobregat River Delta, this was to be a little walk in a natural area on the edge of Barcelona, just on the the other side of Tibidabo, One of the two hills (called mountains) that pinpoint the Barcelona basin. Tibidabo to the Northwestish and Montjuïc to the Southwestish, are situated so that from out at sea, it's very easy to recognize that you are abreast of Barcelona.

The train system is comprised of the Metro, that runs hither and yon, providing an underground system for the city. Then there are the FGC commuter trains that go to some of the outlying towns that have become suburbs. Then there are the regional RENFE trains that travel well out into the country, and make up the long distance trains that take you across the entire country or into other parts of Europe.

The terminus for the commuter train is in the city center at Plaça Catalunya. That is where this walk will begin

Plaça Catalunya

and end. Marta knew of Consorci del Parc de Collserola, a little park area just on the other side of Tibidabo. Since the train goes under the mountain, it was only about a 15 minute ride we got out and headed toward a little natural area that has a dam with a nice pond behind it. This water project once served as a water supply for the villages in the area. It may still today, but I doubt it. We lingered in the long overdue spring sunlight, taking in this little post card before moving on.

We headed around the pond and up the hill behind it. The trail was new to Marta, but she was reasonably sure it would lead us up to the village of Villvidrera. It is located on a high ridge on Tibidabo that affords it views out over Barcelona and the sea, but also out to the countryside on the opposite side toward Les Planes. We wandered around the village as we often do on these walks, admiring the diverse architecture that makes up such a large part of the charm, that is Catalunya and Spain.

The cold was not as bad as it had been in the days previous and the sun had been out, but now the cold was returning and taking the sunshine away. It was time to be moving on before the rain returned too. We traveled down the mountain on the Funicular, . An inclined car that goes up and down the mountain on a cable. It's a rather cleaver design whereby there are two cars at either end of a cable that act as counterweights to one another. There is only a single track, but there is a passing spot, where the track splits, and the two cars can pass each other. Presumably if everything were in balance, they would counter each other there and stop. I'm sure that the centrifugal force of the downward car, is more than enough force to keep that from happening. Undoubtedly there are a number of mechanical forces at play too, but I'll leave that for the engineer in you to sort out.

We walked down (very literally ) to Sarriá Sant Gervasi. The area where a great deal of Marta's youth was spent. Then her children's school years, her work is there and the future home of her mother will be there also. This part of Barcelona, was, is, and will be, a part of the Fabra family. This village, which is now just another neighborhood in Barcelona was once a community onto itself. I'm glad she knew the area well, because unlike Barcelona proper, it's a family area and almost everything is closed on Sunday's. She guided us to a cafe for something hot to drink and a bite to eat.

Here a hot chocolate is exactly that. It's a cup of melted chocolate. Not even close to the mix where you add hot

water and stir. I had tried a couple at some restaurants, but I was disappointed, given that it should have been more like melted chocolate and not so close to being a thickened mix, which I think it was. I had lamented to Marta about this once and told her that I needed to try a hot chocolate outside of Barcelona sometime. I was pretty sure that what I had was the tourist mix. She ordered me a hot chocolate and this time I could plant my spoon upright in this cup of steaming chocolate. A local pastry for dipping and a two piece bikini. Oh, that's a small sandwich cut in two. Why is a small sandwich called a bikini?I have no idea, but there is a logic to it.

We walked on down to the to the former office of the doctor Marta works for. He had just retired and closed the office and in during so, had gutted out the equipment and everything else. The everything included some nice cabinets that Marta wanted for her kitchen. We had moved a couple already, but from the doctor's garage. This walk past the old office was a recon for the next move, so I would know where to go. A line I have heard many times in my life. Now I knew where the office was and how to get there. With the completion of the recon, we hopped on the metro and went back to Plaça Cataluyna, where we had started. Marta's train home would take about 30 minutes and my walk home would take about 15. We had a nice walk and now had a plan for her next cabinet acquisition.

The Carpintero

The moving day came with ample preparation and planning. Well, almost. The cabinet was very long and it just fit in Marta's station wagon, with the help of some bunjies to keep the back closed. There was also the borrowed hand truck, or dolly if you prefer, that proved indispensable.

We were doing just fine with the move right up to the elevator. The European standard for most household items is

Unless you know a carpenter

a maximum of 2 meters in height. This is because doors are 2 meters, 10 centimeters in height. So are a lot of stairwells and elevators. It turned out that the cabinet would fit in the car and the kitchen, but not the elevator. If the elevator had been just 10 centimeters (4 inches) deeper, we could have at least gotten it up to her floor and undoubtedly our next set of obstacles. Since Marta's house is on the 5th floor, this situation was now a problem in search of a solution.

There are companies that specialize in this problem. They have trucks that have telescoping rails that a self leveling platform can go up and down on. I've seen these go as high as eight stories. Of course this would be quite expensive for one cabinet, so it wasn't an option. Hoisting it up the outside of the building by hand was not an option either. Fortunately it wouldn't fit in the stairwell, so there would be no need for a hernia operation after fighting it up five floors in a narrow stairwell.

The Carpintero

It came down to two viable options. Throw it away and admit defeat, or cut it in two and reassemble it in the kitchen. Marta had a power saw and I have a hand saw and a drill, so admiring defeat would have to come later, if at all. It was decided to go with plan C or D, I'm not sure which. We had lost track of possibilities by then. Marta gave me a lift into town, so I could load my tools into her car. I think the idea of me pushing my baby stroller loaded with tools, on and off the metro and then the tram, was more than she could bare. The next day I loaded a few forgotten tools into my backpack and headed out to Marta's place after my Spanish class.

In true contractor style, I showed up at the job at the crack of 11:30. Just in time for lunch. Wrong lunch hour though. Lunch is at 2:00 in Catalunya, so I still had some time for work. The cabinet, now known as Mobby Dick, in

The Lobby Shop

every sense, was beached in the lobby of Marta's building. She had left a note on Moby the day before letting the neighbors know it was her cabinet and that the carpenter was coming to work on it. I don't read Spanish very well, but I think the last part said something like, you can take it.

No such luck. It was still beached there when I arrived. I set up my lobby workshop and proceeded to make all the sounds a carpenter makes inside the masonry echo chamber that was previously a nice quiet entrance lobby. Fortunately most the people in that building work during the day, so if a carpenter is sawing and drilling in the lobby and there is no one to hear him, is he making a lot of noise?

Hack, hack, saw, saw, oops! Good thing I'm not a surgeon. I was invited to the the 2:00 lunch, but by then my over zealous work ethic had kicked in and I was only interested in getting Moby out of that lobby and in Marta's kitchen, where he would be mounted on the wall like the trophy he was. It was a pleasure to walk the two haves that only the day before combined to be my nemesis, into the elevator.

Once in the kitchen the lure of the delicious lunch I had so reluctantly passed up earlier overcame my work ethic. Refreshed and re-energized, I set out to mount Moby's halves to the wall and creat my FrankenMoby. I was glad Marta had gone back to work because it's always good to use someone's kitchen as your experimental laboratory while they are away. I did miss not having an Igor though. Even half a Moby was still a challenge for getting up on the wall.

When Marta got home from work she found FrankenMoby mounted to her wall and me putting the final touches on it. Fortunately I had time to clean things up a bit before she arrived. The amount of mess one Mad Carpenter can make in his laboratory tends to leave the homeowner feeling victimized. It was now time to walk away and let the glue dry. As much as I like glue, watching it dry is not the fun part. I came back the next day to remove the clamps, put all the parts and pieces in place, bang some pots and pans together to simulate thunder and lightning and shout,
"it's alive!!!"

Why people let me in their homes still amazes me.

The Photo Gallery