Fantastico Barcelona Architecture

3/21/07
This morning I strolled down the Ramblas to the sea and walked the promenade for a bit in the sun. Then I turned north and walked to Caixa Catalunya (Nic-named “La Pedrera” “The stone quarry”) another one of Antony Gaudí’s buildings.

The first floor was originally built as a spacious living quarters, with other floors housing apartments. People still do live in the apartments, but the ground floor and the “attic” are now museum. Gaudí was very interested in patterns that occur in nature and natural light, so there are very few straight lines and lots of skylights in his buildings. Also, he was one of the first architects to combine iron, ceramic, plaster, and glass in his design. Those of you from Cleveland, if you went to the “Barcelona” exhibit at the Museum of Art, you saw some photos of these houses and some furniture and light fixtures from them. I have to say, as inspiring as that exhibit was, it’s NOTHING like seeing the real thing. Once again I think the photos are going to have to tell the tale—this just cannot be adequately described.













After that, I walked to the Casa Batlló, also designed by Gaudí, also magnificent.
Only this one was a house, and much of it is on exhibit, although people seem to live there in private apartments, as well.



































Afterwards I had lunch (you won’t hear so much about the food while I’m in Spain; the food is good, but sort of stick-to-your-ribs potatoes, fish, rice, and spiced meat. Not as impressively describable as French cuisine.) and walked to the famous Palau de la Música (also designed by modernists). Unfortunately, they were sold out of tickets for the day (I forgot to mention that once I got to France I discovered that the “Barcelona” part of my guidebook to Spain was left out by the printer, so if it warned me to purchase tickets in advance, I had no way of knowing). I walked through the medieval quarter again to do some window shopping, and then came back to my hotel.

Tonight I found my guidebook recommendation, but the restaurant was completely booked. As I stood dejectedly in the entrance, I watched a long table of Spainards toast one another and cheer. I walked onward, and was lured into a restaurant by the promise of paella. But once I ordered, I was told that it was “impossible” (that word again!) to make paella for just one person. So the waiter gave me a menu of tapas, instead. The first plate had fried calamari (rings the size of onion rings in the US; not the little tiny ones I’m used to getting in Cleveland), and a variety of sausages, one blood red, one white, another, lighter, red. I was a little queasy eating it; I’ve come to learn that in this part of the world, sausage can be a literal mixed bag of entrails. Then came the hot tapas plate, with grilled vegetables, potato, various grilled meats, and a cooked sausage. For dessert, an egg custard, placed in the oven to crystallize sugar sprinkled on the top. I asked the waiter to serve me the “digestif” of Spain, and he poured me Grappa, which is quite strong, but very good.

Tomorrow the train trip to Seville.