THREE WEEKS IN SPAIN BLOG: Final days, final photos, final thoughts

We are on the last day of our trip, and I need to note a few things I don't want to forget!

Name that nationality.
This was a game I encouraged---Barcelona is such an international city that we encountered many, many different nationalities. We were mistaken for being German, Portuguese, and British. We frequently heard two different groups speaking English to each other because it was their only common language, but definitely not the native language of either. We met some Israelis in Sitges who repeatedly tried to communicate in English with their Spanish waiter who was being too rude to be helpful (like EVERY male waiter we dealt with in Spain!), so I offered to help translate for them. We ended up striking up a conversation, and then ran into them again two days later in the Barri Gotic in Barcelona!

Of course, we also encountered some Americans (but if they were "ugly" Americans, I said to the kids, in my best "Bruce the Shark" from "Finding Nemo" voice, "Probably Canadians!").


I win at Spain!
This was something Alex started: If he turned out to be right about something (the time of day, the way we needed to walk, which metro line we needed... anything...), he would proclaim, "I win at Spain!" Eventually we all wanted in on that action.


Jamon iberica.
Many, many restaurants, and most grocery stores, and then of course the stores specializing only in cured meat display whole pigs legs, hoof and all, hanging from the rafters. Anna was really grossed out by this. I didn't find it too appetizing myself. They carve thinly sliced bits right off the leg and serve or sell it to you. Just not my thing.

Here are some pictures from the open-air market near our house, including some raw and cured meats, as well as fish, vegetables, and fruits, in every form. Beware, these pictures may contain images disturbing to some viewers.

Pig legs hanging in the background.

I did try to warn you.

Llonganissa and fuet are rustic-style sausages, typical of Catalunya. I gave them a sporting try, but, nope, they are not destined to become my favorite food. 

Rude waiters!
Have I mentioned enough how rude the waiters are in Spain? Even today, on our last day, in an upscale restaurant, when my Spanish had improved and we had learned some of the ropes of ordering, we could not believe how rude the waiters are. They don't make eye contact. They don't care if they get your order wrong. We had only about two or three good restaurant experiences here.


I miss French food.
And I can't even reminisce about food in Spain without missing the food in France. Sigh.


Souvenirs.
I bought Anna souvenirs from two museums here: the Gaudi gift shop and the Picasso museum gift shop. Can you guess which is which?

We also agreed to purchase two silhouettes that a street artist had created for us on the spot at a restaurant in Barri Gotic. Can you tell who is who?

Cathedrals.
I have seen A LOT of cathedrals on my travels (in Montpellier, we saw three in one day). Here are a few we've seen on this trip:

Barcelona Cathedral, outside...

...and in.

One facade of a cathedral in Girona, a city north of Barcelona that I visited one weekend.

Another cathedral in Girona  (or the same one, but different facade? Not sure because the stone walls and cobblestone streets all blend together here).

The skyline of Girona, a city at the confluence of the rivers Ter, Onyar, Galligants, and Güell.

Cathedral in Rupit, the small village in the Pyranees foothills where we hiked.

One of the cathedrals in Montpellier.

Another cathedral in Montpellier, but this one has been deconsecrated and had an art exhibit going on that day.

And on, and on, and on. When I was first in Europe as a teenager, I met a couple Americans who joked that if they didn't see a castle, a cathedral, or a mountain each day, it was a wasted day of sightseeing. Fortunately, it is almost impossible NOT to see one of those while traveling through Europe.


Iced coffee.
It's hard to get iced coffee here. When you ask for it in English, you get a mug of hot coffee and a separate glass of ice: Café con leche con hielo (when I type that into my online translator, I get both "coffee with milk with ice" AND "iced latte").

Tired, lost, confused...
Easy to be at least one of these, in a day of travel. Here are some miscellaneous pictures of us all.

On the trip TO France, we were not able to book the TGV (the high-speed French train system). We ended up on two different regional trains that made ALL the stops. Some of the stops were a mere 5 minutes apart. That was a really, really long train ride. We made sure we got tickets on the TGV for the trip home. Cut the trip almost in half.

Arthur had the camera in Montpellier and apparently thought me studying maps was suitable subject matter.

Montpellier has these awesome trams, really, really cool, and great for getting around the city. They are all decorated differently on the outside, apparently by well-known designers.

So photogenic.

Oh, c'mon!

Another one of the trams in Montpellier.

On the tram (I was really NOT that lost!)

The closest thing to Great America that Anna found (she REALLY wanted to go to an amusement park, any amusement park---traveling through Europe isn't stimulating enough?)

One of many sidewalk cafes in France where we stopped to eat, drink, and cool off.

Sète, France, the "Venice of France" (yeah, not quite).  

Shhh. I'm going to get in trouble for posting this.

Had gone to France in search of medieval villages and castle walls. We didn't really find any, but I did get to walk around the old city walls in Girona. I love this picture.

Off the beaten path?
These two summers in Europe have taught me that remote villages and hidden gems in Europe just don't exist any more. There are just so many people out there traveling around. In the past ~20 to 25 years, since I last traveled in Europe (first in 1986, then during a year abroad in 1988-1989, and for our honeymoon in 1993), not only has the world's population grown, but also more countries have created globe trotters; in 1989, people from the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe still couldn't travel abroad easily, and neither India nor China were the affluent countries they are today.

Everywhere we go, the lines are long, the museums are full, the trains are booked. How long will it be before a lottery system is instituted for tourists even to be allowed into cities like Venice or into historical city centers like Barri Gotic here in Barcelona? I heard from our Spanish house-swap partners that they got up at 6 am every day while at Yosemite, just to avoid the crowds.

Well, I don't think I can talk the family into another summer in Europe next year. I'll have to look for my next adventure elsewhere. Taking suggestions!

French food, French language

I might have made a mistake going to France just as I was feeling good about my Spanish. I felt like I had turned a little bit of a corner with my Spanish. I was having real mini-conversations with people. One waiter asked if we were from Portugal, because of my accent! What!??!

But then we went to France. What a disaster. Every time I tried to think of any French words, only Spanish came to mind. Sometimes I was pronouncing Spanish words as one might in French. I was basically speaking nonsense. I started asking people, "Parlez-vous Anglais ou Espagnol?" There were a couple people who preferred to speak in Spanish.

On the plus side, though: THE FOOD!!! Everything tastes better in France. We couldn't get over it last year, when we went to Paris for two days on a vacation from our vacation in London, and it was true again this year. The bread. The cheese. The wine. The bread. The bread. The bread!!! At our hotel, for the breakfast buffet, they had little croissants and breakfast breads like I have seen at so many hotel "continental breakfasts" for work, but these were NOT the same. They melted in my mouth. They were little tastes of heaven. And the automatic coffee machine! Push a button and you get steamed, frothy milk, delicious coffee.... We enjoyed that hotel and its associated restaurant so much, we ate there almost exclusively. Olympics playing in the bar, French wine by the glass, English-speaking waiters, and central air-conditioning! I loved that hotel.

I sit here now, at 22:55, watching the Olympic closing ceremonies in our Barcelona "home," after a 4-hour train ride on the TGV from Montpellier. We now have only one full day back in Barcelona to soak up what's left, buy last-minute souvenirs (that's on Anna's agenda, not mine), and get ready for home. I could easily stay another week. Or two. I could do without the heat and humidity, but I've still loved this trip.

Costa Brava

We felt brave heading out to the "Brave Coast" when we woke up to a thunderstorm on the day we had scheduled for sea kayaking. But our guide, a Brit named Daniel from the same company that had led us on the Pyrenees hike, was confident we would find some way to entertain ourselves on the Costa Brava.

However, no matter how far north we drove, and how many kayak rental companies he called, kayaking along the rocky coves of the Costa Brava was beginning to look grim: One rental company thought the seas were too rough, and another, even after the weather did begin to clear, thought nobody would be renting so there was no point in opening.

We decided to head out on a hike along the same coast, a hike we were assured would take us along beautiful views and uninhabited coves for swimming and snorkeling. This was mostly true, but Daniel also seemed a bit lost and forgetful along the way. (At one point, Arthur noted that we could have bought sandwiches and gotten lost on a hike on our own, for a lot less than 90 euros each.) But the thunderstorm had cleared the air and lowered the temperature, so that the hike was quite spectacular. Here are some pictures:

Closed kayak-rental stand.

Empty beach: a rare sight on coastal Spain. Only on a day that started with thunderstorms.

Dan, our fearless leader, ordering sandwiches. (Anna was a little cold and wrapped herself in a towel. The rest of us thought it was sacrilege to complain of the cold, after so much heat!!)

They got the perfect spot. Does the crystal sparkle of the Mediterranean come through in this photo? It was spectacular. Almost wish I had arranged this version of the tour of the Costa Brava.

But this version was also fun: a beach full of (mostly French) tourists, snorkeling, swimming, and sunbathing (but do all the women here have to look like supermodels? Tan, thin, beautiful, AND topless??!!! Fat, white, and American feels a bit out of place here).

Alex and I started out small, by climbing onto, and then jumping off of, the clump of rocks to the left. But once Dan returned with more supplies for our by-the-seat-of-his-pants, alternative-to-kayaking tour, he and Alex climbed up to the tallest rock on the right.

Here they contemplate the wisdom of jumping....

and jump!

By the time I swam over, they had both agreed the highest spot was nerve shattering, and maybe this lower spot was more sensible.

I agreed, so I jumped, too!

There goes Alex again.

Anna snorkeling. There were a few fish to see, but not what you would find in Hawaii.

The real reason it is called the "Brave Coast" is that the rocks and wind made it so dangerous for ships.

At last, a return to civilization...

...and well-earned treats.

I had thought perhaps I was projecting, on the hike with the two Australians and the Russian-Israeli-Spanish guide, that I had heard a sigh of relief when we noted that we are Obama supporters. But there was no room for speculation with Dan, our British guide on this trip---I think he actually said, "Oh good." Remember the hope in 2008 that Obama could improve the view of the U.S. around the world, after the Bush years? There is no doubt for me that he has.

Gramma and Alex depart tomorrow. I am so relieved I still have several days left. I'm not ready to go home.