Monday Barcelona -- Working

So Monday was programmed as a “down” day . . . I tho’t I’d kinda monitor my colleague doing all the work, but there were so many problems I was in there too, getting my knuckles scraped and my fingernails dirty, if you know what I mean . . . we had a quiet breakfast down in the lobby, absent the screaming hordes of kids and sharp-elbowed grannies, mrs got her puzzles, and we were content to retire back up to the room and put out the Do Not Disturb handle on the door.

Some time before 1pm, we were able to take a quick lunch break. We just dashed back over to La Rambla Poblenou for a lebanese lunch where we’d eaten the first night. I had pork chops and eggs . . . it was good, just not very exotic, even tho’ we got some dolmades (stuffed grape leaves), too . . .
Then back up to the room to finish up the work I had devoted the day to . . . all in all, it went well enough, it just seem to take up more time than one day . . . maybe because it was the best day all week . . .the sun was glorious . . . perfect golf weather . . . not so good for pecking at a laptop . . . 8^/ . . .
When I finally finished we both had cabin fever, so we rushed out just to do something, anything . . . first we went to a book store, La Casa Libre, which I had to admit was the best book store I’ve been in years . . . even tho’ the English section was a small part of the store, the selection of books they had was amazing, such variety and so unusual . . . not like the chains in the US. I bought 3 books: The Master and Margarita (actually, translated from the Russian – very weird), White Tiger (by an Hindu author), and Manhattan Transfer, by John Dos Passos. . . . all for less than 40euros . . . what a bargain . . . 8^D . . .

Then we went over to a tapas bar marilyn had found in one of her tour books, the 24. We just beat the after-work-rush, and got the last table for 2 . . . after only a little delay, they brought us a bottle of Spanish sparkling wine and some starters:

the ubiquitous bruschetta (best we had in BCN), a mix of olives (best we had in BCN), and some toasti-style sandwiches they called Bikinis, I guess because they cut off the crusts of the grilled ham-&-cheese . . .

all that was great – as I say, the best in BCN in its class, but I was in what I call “Lupe” mode, after my friend who will eat ANYTHING, so . . . the weirdest thing I saw on the blackboard menu that I could make out was Calamar a la Ramsus de Tinta which I took to be squid cooked in its own ink – I didn’t tell Mrs what it was except calamari . . . 8^D . . . I tho’t it would be like a soup or something, but instead, it was “something-like” fried calamari, with the ink in the batter . . .

it didn’t really have an off-flavour or anything, but there’s not many real-black foods, but this is one of ‘em . . . Mrs unselfishly let me eat most of these, myself, while she worked on the Spanish wine . . .

Well, that was a pretty light dinner so I felt entitled to a dessert . . . but I didn’t just want chocolate again . . . and they were hyping something on the menu called Crema Catalunya, that is, not Crème Brulee, but the same sort of desert per this region of spain that is rather determinedly not Spanish . . .


very nice . . . even if a little ordinary . . . cracking the shell on a crème is one of those things that never gets old, like cracking a 3 minute egg in an egg-cup or popping bubble wrap, if you know what I mean . . . .
So, satisfied that we had accomplished the minimum for the day, despite how I had squandered almost all the daylight working, we headed home to watch our 3 seinfeld episodes and a movie before we fell asleep.

Barcelona Sunday - Gaudi Day

So. The next day, Sunday, was Gaudi day. So we got up early-ish and braved the rowdy crowd at the continental breakfast . . . some of those old ladies and children had sharp elbows around the croissants and cereals, if you know what I mean . . . it takes some determination to fight your way thru . . . they didn’t have an International Herald Tribune on Sunday (just a weekend edition that comes out on saturday), but the hotel did have a “business centre” with a PC and a printer, so I could grab Mrs’s sodokus and crosswords everyday, anyway. She’s just not right, till she’s polished them off, but all I can do is drink coffee without spilling it on myself.

Then Mrs navigated us thru the train system to La Familia Sagrado, where the Gaudi Cathedral is . . . they’ve got 8 towers up now after 150 years, 4 more to go. It’ll be something when it’s finished . . . we just kept saying, “they should bring Cecil (My civil-engineer Step Dad) in on this, he’d finish it up in only 50 more years . . . 8^D . . . “.

The other thing, is it all looks like stuff my friend willie mc in Kerrville would do. The inside columns are all made to look like tree trunks and branches, everything is “organic”, made to look like native flora and fauna from the local region. But still, now, all around the floor are huge pallets of cement mix and mortar and plaster and plastic sheeting and dust . . . lotta work left to do. The styles of the ornamentations out side don’t look consistent, either, some look classical, some look art-deco, some look “modern” – I guess when your project stretches out like that it’s hard to keep consistency . . . 8^D . . .
Well, nothing takes it out me (and my old knees) like walking around a hard cement construction site for a couple of hours, so I started whining for lunch.

Mrs consulted her book for a place nearby and we headed off. Found it, but it was closed, for Sunday or forever, I don’t know. But we doubled back to a place we had seen on the way, Amelia. It wasn’t tapas, but it did look like a little mom-and-pop restaurant, so after perusing the menu, we went in. It was empty, but then again it was only 1 pm, so it could’ve just been too early for the Spaniards to lunch . . .

Mrs got this salad and proclaimed herself entirely satisfied . . . I HAD to have Gorgonzola Ravioli, tho’, with green pesto . . . drubbadrubbadrubbadrubba . . . if that’s not the most sinful thing I ever ate, I don’t know what. . . .

Those were just the starters . . .

For the main course mrs had this seafood soup. I’m glad the restaurant was empty, it would have been too embarrassing otherwise, the nummy-nummy sounds she made while she ate it.

I on the other hand, merely had shrimp brochettes, which were good, but after the orgiastic ravioli I’d already had the prawns seemed almost mundane . . .


the roasted peppers almost did me in, tho’, we can’t get anything like that in PRG, and I had tears in my eyes it was so good – wasn’t THAT hot . . . 8^D . . .


we had a wonderful light white wine with this all, came in a funny shaped bottle, but I didn’t get any information on it. It was catalunyan, tho’, for which we have developed a positive prejudice.
Oddly enough, that seemed to have finished our day for us . . . we staggered to the train, then staggered to the hotel for our siesta, and just never got going again – oh, well, it was a vacation! Tho’ I could hear my mother scolding me “There’s plenty of time to sleep at home!” this is what we did . . . Just as well. I had to work Monday all day, and I needed to fortify myself . . . 8^) . . .

We just watched some Seinfeld shows and a movie I had brought on my computer. That was fun, too. . .

Barcelona Saturday NIght Dinner - El Congrejo Loco

So, we went back and took a siesta too. The train system is great there in BCN, easy to follow, and Marilyn had sussed out most of the trips we needed to make, so we only got on the train going the wrong way twice . . .8^D . . . but it’s still exhausting . . . Marilyn had identified 3 restaurants in the Poblenou we wanted to visit . . . the first one turned out to have closed. The second one, the Crazy Crab, was out on a pier, with a dozen other restaurants, but we found it and it was still there . . . it was only about 7pm, so tho’ all the tables had “Reserved” on them, they were empty, but somehow they found a table we could have.
Now we’ve been fans of bruschetta for a while, but it is an art form in BCN . . . and when served like this, with the olive mix, we’re just in hog-heaven.

Sometimes we wish that’s all we’d eat but we pressed on, tonite: we were on a mission. Once I saw on the menu “Barnacles” I knew I had to have an order . . . even tho’ I never knew before that you could eat barnacles, or that I wanted them.

The waiter had to show us how to eat them: you grab ‘em at the root and break the husk, then pull out the meat and bite it off. They were salty little buggers, too. We each had a big salad, too . . . but it was just a salad . . . if you know what I mean . . .

the other dish we split was a more normal, yet other-worldly yummy plate of grilled sea-food . . . I almost forgot to get a picture it was smelled and looked so good: sea bass, monk fish, hake, crayfish, prawns, squid, and mussles . . . I think the hake was our favorite (the big filet in the middle).

Well, having moderated our appetites so well with only a half order of barnacles, some salad. and a plate of grilled fish, I felt like I was entitled to some chocolate . . . they called it a sacher torte, but it looked different from anyone other I ever had . . . not complaining tho’. . . . needed this and a cappacino to fortify me for the walk back to the hotel, at least 2kilometers along the beach and then La Rambla Poblenou, whew! We liked the mint/strawberry garnish: it looked like something Katherine would have done.

Barcelona Picasso Museum

So: I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to forget / omit our trip to the Picasso Museum in BCN on Saturday . . . one of the main reasons for the trip . . . I think he’s the greatest artist of the modern era, anyway, but Mrs has doubts, so we tho’t this trip would settle it once and for all . . . it was great, but I don’t think anybody changed their minds . . .

not very many of the most famous Picassos were on show – in fact it kinda looked like the leftovers, like as if remnants of a clearance sale after closing time, if you see how I mean. There was one room of 25 or 30 pictures that looked all-but-identical . he was going for something and couldn’t quite get there.

But this one big painting I really did like, Las Meninas: they had his planning sketch framed next to it; he just designed in on a scrap piece of paper in an hour or so, then painted it just like he drew it up in a similarly short piece of time, they said.

This other’n, Mujer Con Mantano bowled me over when I saw it. . . that blue really jumps out at you . . .but this was one of the last pictures before his blue period, according to the museum. I tho’t it must be significant, but apparently no one else in the world agrees with me . . . there is not a single copy of this on the internet . . . not even from the Picasso Museum of Barcelona web site . . . but I love it . . .

I bought a poster of these two plus Guernica, which is what I told Mrs was my favorite Picasso . . . but the original is in a museum in Madrid, so we’ll have to go back to Spain, sometime, dang it. . .8^) . . .it was a chore choosing which Guernica copy to buy . . . from postcard to flat-panel tv sizes, I finally picked a middle size . . .small enough to frame but large enough to see what’s what, if you see how I mean . . .



There was this one other that I sorta liked, L’espera (Margot), not enough to buy a poster but they had ties and scarfs in this motif . . . so I bought a tie for 40Euros . . . 8^0 . . .but it’s just the yellow & green dot background, the girl’s not on the tie, not even her face . . . dangit again. . . 8^D

Barcelona Day 1 & 2

We took a later flight going out – we usually go for the Crack-of-dawn flight, but this time it was 2ish, so we should have gotten to Barcelona (BCN) 5ish, then to the hotel 6ish . . .but the plane was delayed over 3 hours, so we actually got to BCN 7ish and the hotel 8ish . . . and that only with the aid of a young German woman who took pity on us as we groped with the map on the bus to town . . . we woulda just taken a taxi from there to the hotel, but she tutored us in the subway, so that was a big help the rest of the week. But instead of the leisurely fine seafood dinner or paella we had been looking forward to, almost as much as getting out of the frozen wastes of PRG, we made a mad dash over to a restaurant row on La Rambla Poblenou, a sort of promenade common to BCN – undoubtedly the root of the word Rambler, too . . . we walked up and down without finding the restaurant we were looking for, so we doubled back to the most crowded place we could play – my Mom always went by the cars parked out front(you want to eat where the cars you would drive are), but in European cities, you have to go by the faces of the people inside, just whether they look happy or not-- according to Mrs -- so we went into a little Lebanese place. It was a little smoky, but the food was pretty good, and the kind we can eat so late at night – hummus, lamb, salad & falafel -- turns out 9 pm is still early for dinner there . . . ! course they don’t each lunch till 2pm, too.



We’d left on Friday because I needed to work (remotely) on Monday. Knowing that, Saturday we hit the continental breakfast early and then the streets of BCN. The weather was beautiful by PRG standards. So we trained over to THE La Rambla, the biggest, most famous one in BCN, which is so crowded with tourists, tour-groups, street-performers, vendors, that you can hardly wiggle your way thru. Mrs was eager to see her first Gaudi – I GOT to believe this is where we get the word GAWDY from. We were a little disappointed – but we didn’t wait in line to peek inside with every body else . . . we kept walking, all around the old town BCN . . . on one side is the fashionable side, on the other is the seedy side . . . Mrs followed me down one alleyway on the wrong side, but that was enough for her, the rest of the time was on the fashionable side, with the cute shops . . . 8^) . . .


BCN must be around the same age as PRG, but it seemed so much cleaner to us . . . maybe it’s really disgusting in the heat of summer but pre-spring seemed glorious to us, even in a light mist at times. But one old castle looks pretty much the same in BCN or PRG, unless Gaudi is involved, of course, but they did have these old Roman Walls they have taken pains to preserve. You might have found them interesting for all the different stone work and materials they used. I know it took a long time to do stuff back then, but it looks like they just used what was at hand, or tore down older buildings (hard to believe back then) for materials . . .

Well after the slim nourishment of the continental breakfast and walking all morning, we were ready for some lunch, and eager to try some tapas. We walked around a corner and there was this place, Wine & Tapas, so we gave them a try. We were wowed. I had sangria; Mrs just wine, but she said it was just fine. The olives were so good, olive-oily instead of vinegary if you know what I mean, and the artichoke hearts were excellent . . . but the sun-dried tomatoes and the mushrooms were FABulous! We wanted more – this was a pre-planned plate we ordered for simplicity’s sake – but, we followed thru on the “plan” for a light lunch and headed out for more hiking when we finished just one serving.

Off that main Rambla there’s a famous open-air market with produce, meats, and seafood. It was a sight. It’s like the grandcanyon, tho’, just one fabulous vista after another and none of it looks as good in a picture as it did there . . . but still, here they are. . . .8^D . . . I wish I’d just gone ahead and snapped everything I saw, so I could show the skinned rabbits and goats, the “sweet breads”, the exotic fruits and veggies, but all I took is what we love, the seafood . . . now, the Sydney fish market was pretty awesome, and they had some strange looking stuff there, but this market seemed bigger, and more adventurous in the size of stuff they had . . . in that first picture there are Barnacles, lobster, prawns, crabs, and conchitas (they seemed to have labled them caracola) . . . the thing is, those crabs were still moving . . .so were the prawns and lobsters . . . and some of the fish were still twitching . . . that giant octopus in the middle of the bottom picture wasn’t moving, thank god, there would have been a riot, I bet.

So, tho’ we had eaten l ate for us, it was early for the BCNs . . . as we walked around in the early afternoon we noticed them all shutting up shops – they were going for their siestas – Who Knew!?!? I just saw these knockers on the way back to the train on the way back to the hotel. Funny.

Lemon Leaf Thai

What a surprise this was. Our daughter made an off-hand recommendation when we walked by last weekend, but we were very pleased with the whole experience . . .

First we had Kung Thot Almond (tempura shrimp covered in almonds), served with a spicy dipping sauce . . . it was excellent . . .

Actually, first, we had a tasting spoon they offered: Rumaki with satay peanut sauce . . . it looked to me, instead, like a California Roll (sashimi) deep fried and served with a soupcon of satay sauce – nonetheless, it made an excellent start and went very well with our standard Thai food accompaniment, Bohemian Sekt Demi Sec.

For the main course we had Kai Phad Phed, the weekly special, red-curry chicken with lime leaf. When I ordered it from our very charming waitress in my pidgin Czech/thai, she tho’t I said Kai Phad Ping, which she explained was the same thing but with ginger, but I corrected her . . . when she went away, Mrs & I smiled at each other, knowing already that we would have to return to try the Ping . . . Mrs is Mad for anything ginger . . . 8^) . . . The dinner was almost spicy enough for us – certainly more spicy than the norm in CZ – there were little red pepper slices in the curry, but they didn’t seem to be those lethal little red Thai peppers, but some other . . . I didn’t even get the hiccups.

I had to have a dessert, too. I ordered what I’d seen delivered to other tables without being sure what it was. The waitress just called it Pineapple. It was deli-thin slices of pineapple piled up into an island surrounded by a lagoon of crème fraiche and strawberry puree, with a pinnacle of mint. It was worth it just for one bite of strawberry-crème-pineapple-mint.

This was all good enough to move up to at least 2^nd place on our list of Fave Thai Spots in Prague . . . the ambience is the best of any Thai restaurant and the food is definitely crowding the Siam Orchid in the corners, if you see what I mean. . .

Update . . .

Still excellent!

Mrs' favorite Spicy Salad.

A spicy green curry . . .the kind you (by which I mean me!) eat faster and faster as the heat in your mouth grows, un-diluted by our customary Bohemian Sekt, till at last it is gone and only the heat remains . . .

we haven't gone the Lemon Leaf just for the pineapple desert yet but it could happen . . .

Real Italian Pizza

Big Red reports from Tivoli, Northern Italy

 

now this is pizza...and good too