[Travel Diaries] Bar(th)elona 1/3 :: October 2013 ::

March 22, 2015

October 2013:

If you haven't watched The Internship, you won't get the title reference.  I started to type it out, then realised its was infinitely more boring in type than the conversation I have with myself in my head.  A lot of things in life are like that; I'm learning to deal.  Step by step.  One day at a time.

So Barcelona.

I broke down the city into three parts.  There is a fourth, but there was a situation with a bicycle and a map that didn't account for elevation.  I'm holding a bit of a grudge, so I'm sticking with the three that I saw most:

Today we shall discuss El Born.

I loved El Born.  When you think El Born I want you to imagine little shops with the freshest, most beautiful looking bread that just begs to be put into a bicycle basket with a bouquet of peonies or daisies.   Also brown paper packages tied up with strings.

Also coffee and pastries.  The best pastries I found were in El Born.  They are fresh, pretty looking and the least expensive of all the districts.

This place, was our go-to for coffee and a morning pastry because, in Spain, coffee and a croissant at 11:30am is the early morning breakfast of champions.  Morning people need not apply.  Spain is for night hawks.

El Born is also FULL of the most glorious art and history one little soul can hold.  I come from a relatively infant country in the great scheme of Colonialism, so most buildings I have seen only date back a century and a half, maybe two.  In Barcelona, much of the stones I saw that piled high to form such majestic pieces of architecture were hoisted there nearly a thousand years ago.  Some of them even more.  We sat in relative silence watching the activity of a square that, some centuries ago, welcomed Christopher Columbus after his first New World Voyage.  I was in awe.

Near that square, is actually a museum boasting some underground Roman ruins and the remains of a great wall that was built to protect the city against attack before the fall of the Roman Empire.  We arrived there after the museum was closing and the wall was under construction (or the structure which houses it... I'm not entirely sure.  So I only read what we could have seen... but not everything works out the way we think it will.  I'm alright with that.

Speaking of emotional reactions to history and art.  I cried in the Picasso Museum.  I can neither confirm nor deny whether the cause was the art itself or the baby hormones.

For now I blame the baby.

The painting that moved me most deeply is called Science and Charity.  Because I currently take pictures for money, I really appreciate the visual art form.  Not necessarily always the subjective bit, because for everyone art speaks in a different volume, language and pitch.  But to know that all those years ago Picasso could reflect that kind of emotion without consulting a photograph capturing a moment in time using light and shutter at 1/100th of a second.

I pat myself on the back if I get a special moment on film or photograph.  This guy painted it from memory.  Mind: blown.

March 2015:

This trip was wonderful and I had every intention of posting those three travel-logs.  Sigh.  El Born was my favourite out of the Barcelona districts that we visited, so I'm glad this one was at least written!  I almost forgot about how this painting moved me.  I vow to see more art galleries in the future.  So good for the soul.

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