Spain (Eurotrip_2012)

       Margot and I spent December 2^nd traveling from Bern, Switzerland to Barcelona, Spain. This required train transfers in Geneva, Valencia, and Savignon, which meant that we spent a total of fifteen hours on trains and a couple more hours waiting around between them. Needless to say, when we got into Barcelona we were beat. After riding the metro to a stop three blocks away from our hostel we reluctantly entered the party that was our hostel. Arriving at our hostel at 9 PM in the evening, we found the music blaring, the pool tables crowded, and the beer flowing. The entire building was bustling with people. Looking at each other with groggy and apprehensive eyes, Margot and I tried to discern whether we had stumbled into a bar or a hostel. In addition, the employees were right in the middle of a shift change that for some reason took fifteen minutes to accomplish. To the credit of the hostel however, the second that we walked up to the empty counter a manager ran over, “How would you guys like a free beer….because of the wait of course.” “Sure!” We greedily accepted.

    After finally getting checked in we ventured out to La Rambla, the main walking street in Barcelona, and paid way too much for a piece of pizza and a bottle of water. At midnight we returned to our twenty person room to discover that the lights were still on, half of the people in our room were drunk while the other half were in the process of becoming thoroughly inebriated, and they were all being insanely obnoxious. During the next three days I constantly felt like I was in some twisted time warp. At 4 AM you could expect all of the lights in our room to be on and everyone to be awake, while at 11 AM the lights would be off, the shades would be tightly closed, and everybody would be snoring away. If you went to the bathroom at midnight all of the showers were packed full of people getting ready to go out but at 9 AM the bathroom was a ghost town. Everybody travels in their own way and I’m not trying to sound superior to the other people at our hostel, but as Margot said to me after our first night, “staying there felt like being on an alien planet.” This simply was not the way that we preferred to travel. And that first night after spending fifteen hours on a train, the one thing that we desired above all else was simply a good night’s rest, even if according to our friendly bunk mate the only way to get over an awful train ride was to, “go out and get fucked up.” At 1 AM as my patience was petering for the three Italian men drinking, smashing bottles, and yelling at each other below my bunk, and rapidly deteriorating for the three drunk girls who were talking about their favorite band member from NSYNC, I finally plugged in my headphones and let the day’s exhaustion sweep over me and knock me out. Unfortunately for Margot she did not have as much luck. The next morning I would hear about drunken hooliganism, attempts to purchase marijuana, and a sick girl puking in the next bunk over from her, which all lasted until about 6 AM that morning. The story would’ve sounded a bit too outlandish if I hadn’t seen firsthand how crazy the people in this hostel could act.  

When we woke up in the morning we had to check out and then check right back in…to the exact same room, which I never fully comprehended. Then I let an exhausted Margot take a nap while I worked on this blog down in the common room, which was completely empty of any human presence because, well, it was only ten in the morning. After waking up my travel buddy we hit the town, walking down La Rambla to the bay and then along the shore before cutting up into the city and randomly stopping at this great Spanish restaurant for lunch. Halfway through our meal this lady sat down next to Margot and a comment about the chandelier above our heads sprouted into a long conversation and a new friendship. The lady, originally from Barcelona and named Carolina, had coincidentally spent three months living in Boulder in 1999. She told us all about her awesome experience there, what she did for a living, and some good places to visit and eat at while Margot and I were in Barcelona. She was incredibly nice, spoke perfect English, and would have given us a tour of the town had she not been sick with a cold. For food I had veal with mushrooms, a fried pear, catalane spinach, which has raisins and nuts in it and is incredibly delicious, and of course some sangria to wash it all down. After dinner we said good-bye to Carolina but not to her cold, which would haunt us for the remainder of our trip.

After lunch we went to see the Santa Maria del Mar Church, accidentally ending up at the Cathedral of Catalana instead. When we arrived at the church we both just assumed that the two churches were one and the same instead of questioning my impeccable ability to read a map. The Cathedral was nice but cost a fortune to enter, so we decided to satisfy ourselves with the image from the outside before taking a stroll through a Christmas market. Sorry Spaniards, but the Spanish Christmas market didn’t hold a flame to the Swiss one.  

After wandering through the streets we found ourselves in the Parc de la Ciutadella, venturing up just north of the park to check out the Arc de Triomf before returning for a stroll through the parks tropical atmosphere. 

In 1714 the Bourbon King Philip V conquered Barcelona after a thirteen month siege of the city and in order to retain control, built the largest fortress in Europe in the form of a star shaped Citadel. Since then the fortress has been demolished and replaced with this beautiful and expansive park. After a short walk we found ourselves standing at the base of the amazing Cascada fountain, which was gorgeous. The sculptures and fountain features were interlaced with beautiful green vegetation that gave the Cascada a striking appearance. And since Gaudi had been involved in the creation of the fountain, there was more than a bit of creativity involved. The gargoyles spewing water at the base of the Cascada all differed from each other in one way or another. One had butterfly wings while the other had dragon wings, one had the face of a lion while another had the face of a demented dog. And atop the fountain and the staircase was a depiction of Justice being pulled in a chariot by her four horses, completely clad in gold. The fountain was peaceful as a whole but became interestingly aggressive when you singled out each piece of its design.  All in all, I found it to be a beautifully picturesque piece of art.

Margot and I continued through the park to check out the parliament building before jutting off the path and dodging past the zoo. A short while after leaving the park we stumbled upon the actual Santa Maria del Mar church, which we had been searching for that morning. Inside, the six-hundred-and-thirty year old church spewed a feeling of true authentic Spanish design. The church displayed some real wear and tear on its walls, which were bleeding black trails of grime. The massive gothic style church was completely open inside and betraying its mighty structure, somehow seemed to be of simple design. The church was lit by a stream of stained glass windows that circled the entire church. It was amazing! The church felt so old, authentic, and naturally beautiful that I decided right there on the spot that it was one of my favorite cathedrals of the trip.  

After visiting the magnificent church we walked back to our hostel, rested for a bit, and then ventured out for dinner. As was becoming a trend, we couldn’t find the place that I had intended to eat at and instead settled for another place that was on the corner of a dark deserted street, just two blocks off of La Rambla. After passing by and checking out the set menu on a stand outside their door we returned a few minutes later and sat down for our meal. For dinner I had a ¼ liter of red wine, salad with caramelized goat cheese, chicken soup, salmon, chocolate ice cream, and bread. The food was amazing but I was completely stuffed when we finally left an hour in a half later. We took a stroll down La Rambla to work off some of our meal before arriving at our hostel, which was once again crowded and bumping with music and activity. Fortunately for us, none of our eighteen roommates were home yet, so we took advantage of the temporary peace and quiet and went straight to bed.

The next morning we took the metro out to the famous La Sagrada Familia, which ranks up there with Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood in terms of pure eye opening beauty. After coming up from the subway stop I was casually searching my surroundings when Margot told me to turn around, I was immediately smacked in the face by the unique and creative church that Antoni Gaudi had designed. As we crept closer commenting on how the whole face of the cathedral appeared to be melting we finally decided to go grab some breakfast before engulfing ourselves in the splendor of the building. We walked around the block and found a local coffee shop, where we enjoyed a decent breakfast for a quarter of the price of all of our other meals in Barcelona before wandering back over to the Church.  

The first thing we did after buying our tickets was take an elevator up one of the towers sprouting up from the Nativity façade, which was the only portion of the building that had actually been completed by the time Gaudi died in 1926. The other three towers on the west side of the building, which we ventured over to via walkways connecting the towers, were completed in 1930. I also found out later on that the churches main center tower, which is dedicated to Jesus, was restricted to a height of 170 meters by Gaudi because that was the height of the tallest hill in Barcelona and man should never out-do God.

The Basilica of the Sagrada Família was actually the inspiration of a Catalan bookseller, Josep Maria Bocabella, who after a visit to the Vatican in 1872 returned from Italy with the intention of building a church inspired by one he had seen in the city of Loretto. The crypt of the church, funded by donations, was begun in 1882 on the festival of St. Joseph under the design of the architect Francisco de Paula del Villar. In 1883 Villar retired from the project and Antoni Gaudí assumed responsibility for its design at the young age of 23. Gaudi dramatically changed the designs and lengthened the construction time considerably. By the time of Gaudi’s death in 1926, only 20% of the building was estimated to have actually been completed. The construction was immediately taken over by another architect but was hindered from 1936 to 1940 by the Spanish Civil War. During this time much of Gaudi’s building plans and designs were destroyed by Catalan anarchists, but construction continued based on reconstructed versions of the plans. The construction of the vast building, which was actually not intended to be a Cathedral, is estimated to be completed by 2028.

After returning from the tower we began our tour, which started on the east side of the building with the Passion façade. This façade, which displays the story of Jesus’ last days and crucifixion, was intentionally made to appear simple and bare, in order to signify the solemnity of the death of Jesus Christ. This portion of the building was constructed by studying the designs, blueprints, notes, and quotes from the then deceased Antoni Gaudi.  The façade is made of three rows of porticoes, which are to be read like a story. The lowest level depicts scenes from Jesus' last night before the crucifixion, including The Last Supper, Kiss of Judas, Ecce Homo, and the Sanhedrin Trial of Jesus. The middle level portrays the Calvary, or Golgotha, of Christ, and includes The Three Mary’s, Saint Veronica, Saint Longinus, and a hollow-face illusion of Christ. In the third and final level the Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Christ can be seen. Gaudí intended for this façade to strike fear into the onlooker. He wanted to "break" arcs and "cut" columns, and to use the effect of chiaroscuro (dark angular shadows contrasted by harsh rigid light) to further show the severity and brutality of Christs’ sacrifice. The four towers in the background of the façade each represent an apostle; James, Thomas, Phillip and Bartholomew. A bronze figure situated on a bridge creating a link between the towers of Saint Bartholomew and Saint Thomas represents the Ascension of Jesus. Facing the setting sun, the facade is indicative and symbolic of the death of Christ.

I then ventured inside the Sagrada Familia, passing by a puzzle of numbers which whenever added together always create the number 33, Jesus’ age when he died. The inside was remarkably breath taking, incredible stained glass windows shed a beautiful array of light all over the forest-like interior. You could tell that this church, unlike any other we had visited during our trip, was modern. It was clean, fresh, and perfect, but it also had another unmistakable characteristic which made it unlike any other cathedral we had seen, it was designed with insurmountable creativity and ingenuity. How Gaudi thought of these ideas and designs, figured out how they would actually work on a building, and then designed the building so that everything would fit so perfectly, is a wonder. Margot mentioned after we visited the cathedral about how it was trying to do so much, which I agreed with but added that it was still somehow accomplishing everything that it was trying to do without being overwhelming. We both agreed that Gaudi was a fucking genius.

Walking around the inside of the church to reach the Nativity Façade on the east side of the building, I had to constantly rub my neck from the strain of awing up at the incredible architectural achievements. To give you perspective on how vast the interior of the building was, the naïve reached a height of 150 feet while the central vault reached a height of 200 feet. The pillars supporting this massive structure were designed by Gaudi to literally act like a tree, with each pillar branching off to spread out the weight distribution. These support beams, which were made of three different types of stone, depending on the amount of weight it had to bear, also add an incredible aesthetic appeal to the interior of the church. And shining all over these beams and the pristine interior of the church is the richest array of colors I’ve ever seen produced by stained glass. For the two hours that it took me to walk the 400 feet from one side of the naïve to the other, I felt like I was in a fairy tale. The architectural designs that Gaudi enacted into this building are so genuine and absurd that I’ve never before, and doubt I ever will, encounter any building quite as dramatic and unordinary anywhere else on earth. The outrageous amount of planning that had to go into this cathedral before the first brick was even laid is unbelievable and I simply have to tip my cap to Gaudi for giving me something to talk about and remember till the day I die.

After La Sagrada Familia we went to Guell Park, which was full of more of Gaudi’s architecture. By the end of the day I was reaching the point where saying that Gaudi was my favorite architect was just a given, all of his architecture blew anything else I had ever seen out of the water. It was all just so … different. A bench was an array of colorful stone, a support beam created an intricately designed cave, and the stairs were a staircase lined with statues, waterfalls, and mirages. Nothing was simple and nothing was overlooked. Gaudi thought of it all. He knew his art form and mastered it to a level I had never seen before. Margot and I had an amazing time strolling through the park and getting our fill of the designs peeking around every corner.

              After wandering through Guell park and watching the sun set we took the metro back home and grabbed some dinner down the street at a place that was showing the Real Madrid soccer match. I had some paella while we enjoyed the game and after reaching the point where Madrid had the game in the bag we went back home and got some rest.

The following morning we woke up, took the metro to the train station and caught a high-speed train to Madrid. There we met up with Mikael, Margot’s father, at Sol Plaza. We went from there to the Hotel in order to get settled and then set off to begin exploring.

First stop was the Plaza Mayor. When we arrived to the Plaza it was already dark out, which seemed to me to make it all the more splendid. They had tiny lights strung all over the plaza to light everything up and we skipped from tent to tent in search of souvenirs for our friends and family back home. After bargaining on a few items and debating about whether to buy Margot’s nephew a costume or not we marched off from the Plaza Mayor and onto the Cathedral and Parliament. Since it was late at night we couldn’t actually tour or visit these sights, but we gazed in through the gates from the street and oohed and awed at the splendor.

On our way to the Plaza Mayor earlier we had been seduced into a Flamenco restaurant to buy tickets for later now returned to see what all the hubbub was about. I would soon learn that any-and-all hubbub regarding flamenco shows is warranted. It is absolutely incredible! The dancing style reminds me of no other and is so in your face that it grabs hold of you and forces you to pay attention to every swirl and foot stomp. The food was great as well, but it was hard to take my eyes of the show long enough to shove some paella in my face. I went to bed happy that night.

The next day, December 6^th, 2012 I lay in bed sick for half of the day. Finally however, Margot and Mikael pulled me out of bed and we all went to 100 Montaditos for lunch, a local Spanish tacos restaurant that our friend Alex Shaffer had recommended. It was just as delish as had been promised and we happily left to go on an adventure to help Mikael search for the place that he had bought a guitar several years ago during a previous visit to Madrid. We actually did find the place we were looking for, but unfortunately for Mikael it was closed.

       From there we went onward to another adventure to a Museum. I believe myself to have an open mind, but this was an awful Museum. There was a room full of dogs, with human heads, having sex and a bottom row of old people in wheelchairs. All I remember after walking through most of the exhibits was thinking “what in the fuck!” It was as if they just pulled some bloke off the street with a mind deteriorating illness and said, “what would you like to make?” The exhibits were obnoxiously random and pointless. I walked through a section of Franco de Guyo, which I actually did thoroughly enjoy. However, I also got my first experience with Picasso and have to say that he is just not my style. Maybe I’m naïve or too narrow minded, but it looked simple and basic. It evoked no emotion and instead of drawing my attention into the painting, immediately sent me glossing past it and onto the next un-inspiring painting. After ditching the museum, actually we got kicked out, we grabbed some late night dinner at the closest restaurant we could find and then stumbled home and climbed into bed.

The following morning we immediately hopped onto a train and took it all the way out to Valladolid, where we planned to spend the day wine tasting. We got picked up at the train station by an associate at the Winery who drove us through the hills to the orchard. Mikael had already arranged the tour as he was interested in ordering wine from this orchard to sell in his liquor store in Boulder. The wine tasting was very interesting and was elevated by doing it alongside Mikael, a man who actually knew what he was doing. After the wine tasting we returned back to Valladolid and sat down for some coffee before proceeding onto visiting the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Holy Assumption.  There was absolutely nobody there so I was skeptical about walking in however, we did end up creeping in and quickly wandering around before skipping out.

We then briefly explored the University of Valladolid, which was founded in 1241, before catching a train back to Madrid. Once back in town Mikael wanted to go see about the guitar shop, so we dropped an exhausted Margot off at the Hotel and strolled over to the shop where I was introduced to Angel, the eccentric store Owner. While Mikael shopped the guitars, Angel introduced me to his odd personality and mentioned, among other things, that he liked to stick his finger in girls’ ears, whatever the hell that means. After Mikael was done shopping we went out to grab a drink together and Angel brought along a student he introduced as someone who “buys stuff for him.” We spent about 3 ½ hours at the bar sucking down wine while stuck in a heated argument. Eventually, we said good-bye to Angel and his friend and grabbed Margot for some late night dinner.

On December 8^th we woke up really late, shook off our hangovers, and checked out of the hotel. Margot and Mikael went to another museum but I’d had my fill of Madrid museums and instead wandered into a nearby Catholic Church where a service was in session. After gazing around the Church I decided to sit down and hang out during the service, but since it was in Spanish I didn’t understand a lick of it. I then discovered Retiro park and explored the beautiful park before meeting back up again with Margot and Mikael in order to catch a train to Granada.

Once in Granada we tossed our bags into the hotel and immediately went out for some tapas, snails, and drinks. Dinner was amazing we ended up having a long chat with our extremely friendly waiter, Fernando, who had just spent fifteen years in Oregon.

The next morning we went on a tour of the Alhambra, which is a humongous fortress set on the top of a hill overlooking the entire town of Granada. The Alhmabra was constructed in the mid-13th century by the Moorish emir Mohammed ben Al-Ahmar of the Emirate of Granada during the Nasrid Dynasty. He was forced to flee to Granada in order to avoid persecution by King Ferdinand III of Castile and the Reconquista supporters working to end Spain’s Moorish rule, and had the Alhambra constructed as his residence.  In 1333, Yusuf I, Sultan of Granada, had the Alhambra converted into a royal palace.

The last Nasrid Sultan, Muhammad XII of Granada, surrendered the Alhambra in 1492 without even being attacked when King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella I of Castile took the surrounding territory.

After the conclusion of the Christian Reconquista in 1492, the site became the Royal Court of Ferdinand and Isabella. It is actually the place where Christopher Columbus received royal endorsement for his expedition which lead to the discovery of America.

The literal translation of Alhambra, "the red (female)," reflects the color of the red clay of which the fort is made. It’s also the color of the surrounding mountains, which are dry and desert like. In fact, the Alhambra sticks out among the otherwise arid landscape as a beautifully colorful fortress full of green vegetation, flowers, and humongous old trees. This is done via a conduit 8 km long that is supplied by the Darro River and intricate irrigation system composed of acequias within the fortress. As we walked through the fortress water was trickling past us in some form or an another the entire time.

After touring the Alhmabra we grabbed some dinner in town where we munched down on some octopus and enjoyed some sangria, wine, and tapas.

The following day we took care of some laundry and spent some time admiring a local cathedral before having some lunch and coffee in the square. The rest of the day was spent shopping around the streets of Granada and catching a train down to Algeciras.

In the morning, we woke up and immediately caught a ferry to Cueta, Spain, which is a city on the African continent entirely surrounded by Morocco. From there we took a bus to the Moroccan border and actually crossed by foot, where a funny border-crossing incident took place. I’ll save that for my next and final Euro-trip post, though.