Bienvenue a Barcelone!

For our tenth wedding anniversary we thought it might be nice to do something different from our traditional trip to Byron Bay (well, we did get married there on Wategos beach), and as Barcelona is a shortish hop down the road, we seized the moment.  Allons-y! Vamos!  

An hour and a bit of driving took us over the border to Spain - not a single official to be seen nor customs check to be had - and another hour or so and we were tussling with the outskirts of the v. large city that is Barcelona. Needless to say the GPS on the mobile refused to co-operate and we were on our own. We found our hotel eventually, slung our bags in the room and rushed out onto the Ramblas.

We were expecting a city in ruins and beggars on every corner since we do catch the news now and again and no one can escape the intimate details of Spain's financial pickle. What we discovered was a city of joyful and friendly people, creativity bursting at the seams and some very nice wine indeed.  

We completed a free walking tour of the city with Jamie, originally from Wellington NZ now living in Spain as he didn't want to be 'mono-lingual', who gave us intriguing historical insights and personal perspectives into the great and turbulent city of Barcelone.  

Catalan is the language here and these people are fiercely independent, their singular flag hanging from every other balcony and flagpole.  They have banned bull fighting (yesss!) and adopted human tower building instead (google it!). Their Anarchist party is a force to be reckoned with and their local Saint is an unbelievable 13 year old girl called Eulalia from the 2nd Century.

We meandered through the Dali museum and gaped awe-struck at the astonishing Sagrada Familia, a work still in progress but none the less inspiring for it.  We loved the tapas and wine we consumed at every opportunity but didn't find the coffee any better than in France, tant pis. 

The city was busy and active by night, the markets, shops and bars open to all hours, we drank sublime cocktails and managed to catch some cool jazz much to Alex's delight.  

Overall we had an exhilarating time in Barcelone and are keen to return not least because we didn't manage a pilgrimage to Barca FC Stade and out of curiosity I personally would like to return to the Hotel Arts at Barcelonetta - scene of many happy rock 'n' roll memories.  

What I'll remember from this visit is the warmth of the locals (in marked contrast to our French counterparts, sadly), the clean streets free of dog poo, the wildly imaginative architecture, the delicious Turron from the colourful markets, and, perhaps worryingly, the sense of freedom and lack of guilt in just not giving a damn about trying to speak the language!  Hasta la vista, Barcelone!