Memory Lane
Barcelona, April 2014
A few weeks back Marta
and I went on one of your Saturday afternoon strolls through the
city.
Only this time we were going to walk on the upside of the city, just beyond the grid that is unique to Barcelona. The Eixample of Barcelona is laid out in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and created a new part of the city between the old city and what were once the outlying villages. The design and vision of the Eixample is vastly different from the original Roman and
Medieval periods, that make up the barrios of the old city.
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| City Map of Barcelona |
The old city was laid out by either paving the goat trails or by
the generals who knew that for an invading army trying to get their troops
through a three story maze is akin to suicide. This maze of streets, I affectionately
call the squiggles, has a similar effect on the invasion of tourists that flock
to that area. They get so turned around in there that they have no choice
but to sit down at one of the countless cafés, bars and restaurants, have a
drink and a bite to eat before plodding on. A few more twists and turns,
a few more shops selling this and that and suddenly you pop out into the open.
Fortunately, unlike the invading armies of the past, you’re not dead, but your
wallet! Oh, the carnage!
I have no idea what the baseline was for the grid, because the streets of Barcelona run
northwest
by southeast. Coming from a culture that uses north, south, east &
west as an absolute guide, this grid will mess you up. Most of the
Europeans I know give little credence to my way of navigation because there
probably aren't two roads in the whole of Europe that run north and
south. Because of that, Europeans navigate by direction. That is to say, that when you are going someplace
you are going in that direction. That direction is indicated by the big town
ahead. California use to put their highway signs up like that. The sign
wouldn't say if you were going north, south, east, or west, only that you were
going in the direction of that town, wherever that is. The locals know, but if
you aren’t from around there you better know how to read a map or you will
spend a lot of time going the wrong way.
I've learned to see the map of Barcelona in my head and simply refer to my
direction as up, down, right or left as I look at the map. On this
particular walk we were going up and to the left, which just happens to be
west. We were to meet up at the west end of the Avinguda (avenue) Diagonal,
a major thoroughfare, which cuts through the entire city on nearly an
east, west line, leaving hundreds of triangular intersections in its wake.
Speaking of walks. Marta and I took another interesting one yesterday evening.
It was not our usual Saturday walk, because Saturday will be another
Witty Walk. Yesterday's walk was because Marta had the day off for May
Day, The international Day of the Worker, Due to the former Soviet
Union claiming it as theirs, the United States gave up all things associated with May
Day, even the May Pole.
I'll get to the May
Day walk another time. Now, back to Memory Lane. I took the
Metro and Marta came on the Tram. Until yesterday I hadn't ridden the
Tram. It serves as another link in the extensive public transportation system
that Barcelona has. We started our walk at
the Parc de Cervantes. A large rose and flower park named after Miguel deCervantes, author of Don Quijote de la Mancha and other works. His time was the
same as Shakespeare’s and is thought by many in Spain, to be their
Shakespeare.
The season was still
too young for most of the roses, but there were some along with the various
flowers that were in bloom. We strolled through this lovely park before moving
on to the adjacent park and eventually to the road that would take us to the
Reial Monestir de Pedralbes. A beautiful old monastery and palace built
by one of the queens as a place of religious serenity for the remainder of her
life after the king died.
From there we walked
in the direction of Sarria Sant Gervasi. An old village that once was
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| US Consulate, Barcelona |
This part of Barcelona was Marta's childhood home. Along the way Marta showed me the sights and
the areas where she grew up as a child. Her old home, her school and
where she and her friends would play. We talked at length about those days and
what they meant to her. She told me that the large, as in palatial,
house that she looked at out of her bedroom window was destine to become the
American Consulate building.
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Bonnie and I had been
there once, but because we went by Metro and Renfe train, I never really had a
good look around. We went there to see if they could help with ideas and
ways that we could legitimately stay in Spain. They couldn't. Sorry,
not our department, talk to the Spanish authorities. We had
already tried that. They didn't seem too anxious to find a way for us to stay.
I had to have a document notarized for my attorney, so I had brought it
with me. My government charged me more to notarize that one document then all
the documents I've ever had done combined. No help and a $50 ink blot.
Unfortunately, about what you would expect.
After our day at the
Consulate we contacted an attorney about legitimately staying in Spain. She told us that there just wasn't an easy way anymore. When the
European Union (EU) came to be and the boarders were done away with, a lot of
people from EU countries moved to Spain. This influx apparently filled
the quota and there wasn't any room for non EU people to stay beyond their
tourist visits. Unless of course, they had some compelling reason.
We thought being compelled to stay was compelling enough, but not
according to the Spanish government.
The attorney told us
that unlike the United States, we would not be stopped on the street for
appropriate documentation. We would not be arrested and put in a
detention center and stripped of any human rights and that we wouldn't be fined
or jailed. If for some reason we ran afoul of the law and were found to
be illegally in Spain, we would be given 72 hours to leave the country.
This also meant that we should leave the EU, because if we were illegal
in Spain, we were illegal in the entire EU. Her advice came down to this.
If you want to buy property in Spain so you can stay, you will need to
spend 500,000.00 Euros. Or, stay out of trouble and enjoy your time in Spain for three years, then you are given amnesty and you can become a resident.
Back to the walk.
By now we had been
walking for about 4 hours, but it never seemed like it. Because we
were
up on the ridge looking down to the city and the coast, it reminded me a lot of
San Francisco. The sun was setting and dusk was upon us. Marta assured me
the best was yet to come with only another half hours walk. Only then,
did she mention the part where that long half hour would be spent walking up
toward Mount Tibidabo. In case you missed it, the key word was up.
Up and up we went. We were headed toward Casa Arnús" or "El Pinar" (pine
wood). This mansion was commishioned by a well-known banker of
the time. . It was built by the prestigious architect, Enric Sagnier during the Modernist
period of the 19th
century. it’s a beautiful building that appears to simply float on the hill side, because it was built on an outcropping knoll. At night it truly seems to float over Barcelona because of the way it is lit up.
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| El Pinar |
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| El Pinar at night |
century. it’s a beautiful building that appears to simply float on the hill side, because it was built on an outcropping knoll. At night it truly seems to float over Barcelona because of the way it is lit up.
At it's base, are a few restaurants that overlook the entire city. Just
short of reaching one of the restaurants where we would enjoy a glass of wine
and a bite to eat, we happened on a wild boar having a bite to eat of his own.
Spain still has some bear in the mountains and wild boar that still inhabit the
country side. This was a small one and very intent on its roadside meal, so we
just skirted it and went on to our meal.
We have made a habit
during the course of our many walks in
the city, to not only canvas our
destination, but to enjoy the walk leading up to it. After which, we would sit
and have a glass of wine or two while we had a bite to eat. Then it was
usually time for us to find the bus that would take Marta home. Although
repetitious, it has been a truly delightful pattern. We sat and talked
while the lights of the city shone below us. It was at this place that
Marta was given her title of Marvelous Tour Guide. For some reason the
word marvelous had found its way into our conversation that night and so it not
only became the word of the day, but an appropriate title. Marta has
always put a fair amount of thought and effort into making our walks
educational, enjoyable and above all, delightful. Marvelous Tour Guide,
is certainly not a misnomer.
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| From the top down |
Normally the
restaurants close around 1:00 - 2:00 in the morning. That's not a
strange hour to close if dinner isn't until 9:00 - 10:00 in the
evening. We sat, we talked, we had our wine and after a while it occurred to us
to check the time. After all, we still had the part of the evening where we
find the bus to take Marta home. It was now nearly 3:00 am. Oops!
We hurriedly headed
out and down the mountain to the Renfe Train that would take us to the central
city, and the numerous bus stops. It was closed! We
trekked on to the not so nearest Metro stop. That got us to her bus stop
in just the nick of time. The last night bus would be leaving in only a few
minutes. If she had missed that bus she would have to wait some hours before the
morning bus route started. She boarded her bus and our walk down her
Memory Lane came to a close.
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