Next Friday I’m off, with two girlfriends, to my favourite European city. We’re treating ourselves to a long weekend in this Catalonian delight.
The weather I imagine will be much like London’s. Maybe a few degrees warmer. I hope for sunshine but will be satisfied with dry.
We have rented an apartment in El Born – the old town and right in the heart of it all. The apartment looks great and we have a bedroom each albeit one looks more like a corridor/cupboard. I do hope the bed is not as doll size as the room that contains it. This will be a draw straws scenario or flattest heels wins best room. Just kidding. We’re not that puerile or selfish or self-centred. Are we? I don’t think so.
Anyway, I love Barcelona. This will be my fourth trip. It will be T…….’s second. She hated it the first time. I’m taking that as a positive thing and looking upon it as a challenge. I shall convert her. With or without the help or Mr Vino and Mr Blanco. No, it’ll be with but that’s ok too.
My other travelling companion, K……. has never been to Barcelona. It was her idea. I’m logging that fact here in case things go wrong and recriminations follow.
The last three times I have been to Barcelona we stayed in the Hotel Arts on the waterfront. It’s a magnificent building and the views out to sea, along the coast and back across the cuidad are stunning. The art works, sculpture and pottery in the hotel are both interesting and expensive.
I know the pottery is pricy because Mr Carmichael broke a vase in our room the first time we stayed there. These things happen, especially to Mr Carmichael.
That was the time we went on an achievers’ trip with Oracle (a company we have both at various and separate times been in the employ of) and Mr Carmichael, the achiever, told me children were welcome. They weren’t. Why did he do that? It was a tight fit in our room and I developed broad shoulders that week as I strode past the chattering staff who vociferously believed that the Carmichaels were taking liberties. Ok, we were but I didn’t know it until check in. Hmmmm.
That trip I not only convinced Mr C to think about getting a dog but fell in love with Antonio Gaudí’s extremely modernist and rather mad architecture. We will, I hope, be visiting/revisiting La Sagrada Familia, Casa Batllo, Casa Milà and of course Parc Guell which, I remember, the daughters loved too. Actually they were also captivated by his Star Waresque creations on the roof of La Pedrera.
Obviously we will also get an eye full of the public art strewn about the city. It’s hard to miss and who would want to?
My favourite is Gehry’s golden fish which was created to commemorate the 1992 summer olympics in Barcelona and just happens to stand at one end of the Arts’ swimming pool. I didn’t have to go too far to find this masterpiece.
But there’s more, far more to see as well. There’s a Gaudí museum I haven’t been to but perhaps that might be curve overload. The Picasso museum I have toured and am happy for a rerun. It might well be around the corner from out apartment in El Born. I would like to visit the Miró museum. I need to start the research. Right now.
Ambrosia in the guise of tapas and nectar (mojitos and wine) will surround us. We are blessed.