On to Barcelona ...

The time had come on Saturday morning to leave magical Madrid and fly to barmy Barcelona.  I choose that word carefully, Barcelona has a ‘barmy’ aesthetic.  It is the home of Gaudi from whom I am pretty sure we derive the word ‘gaudy.’  Pablo Picasso was at home here as was Salvador Dali.  Not only is there surreal art work everywhere, the buildings reflect the artists culture, and the people themselves have a carefree, artistic sense about them.

Before I tell you more let me back track to last night. We reorganized our bags and always we the thought that they might not arrive safely tour destination.  In the morning we were up early and out the door to the airport.  And here the day became a little off.  Our gate was on the boards as only “J”.  We clustered about staring at the changing times and gates – but ours never did.  It was now less than an hour to the flight.  No one from the agency was there to offer guidance.

We were allowed to make purchases at the Duty Free Shop even though we were not leaving the country.  Elva bought two bottles of wine that were on offer.  They sales lady put them in the bottle carrier box and we joined the others.

They had been around before security and even got us a private check in and security line.  While waiting, one of our group called over, “Did someone leave and IKEA bag at security.”  We all said no.  Then a gentleman came and led the group to somewhere but didn’t tell us.  I did not go along as Elva had stepped away and would have no idea where we had gone.

When Elva returned we could not find anyone we recognized and so went to an Iberia Air gate and were told that the flight number was not in the system but we could check their desk.  I started to tell the lady there that we were told the flight wasn’t in the system and without even glancing up she said “J56.”  Very weird.  But we did make our way all the way back through the terminal and found our new friends.

The flight was short and fine.  No service, not even a cold drink.  But our bonus prize of the day was that there was a New York gentleman seated on the aisle.  Elva had the window and I had the middle.  I thanked him for making it easy to get in and started a little polite pre-flight chat.  Since almost everyone on the flight was in our group it turned out that he was as well.

Pete lives in Myrtle Beach and had been on the Equinox four previous times.  It is his favorite.  He told us all about the best places to eat and the fun and nice things about the ship.  The hour and fifteen minutes went fast.  We laughed so much and enjoyed each other’s company so  much that before we had gotten to the hotel later in the morning, Pete and his wife Carol were at the top of our ‘get to know’ list.

There was more confusion at baggage since the company reps were at the carousel and not near the entry, but eventually we found them and were taken to the quite sleek and new H10 Arts hotel.  There was a champagne welcome drink waiting for us.  We enjoyed it on the quiet, walled patio while staff processed our passports and checked us in. Our rooms were ready as by then and we went up to a street view with an iron rack over the French door opening so we had a sort of French balcony but couldn’t enjoy a view.  While waiting for our bags I began to put away things from my carry on.  We continued to wait for our other bags and I finally went to the lobby and found one and asked about Elva’s.

It was about 3:00 in the afternoon when the light bulb went on!  Remember that IKEA bag? It was mine.  At security the man had taken the infamous BAGGIE from me and so I totally blanked when she said BAG.  I was thinking like a shopping bag, not the baggie with all my liquids – sun lotion, makeup, toothpaste, two new lipsticks, new mascara, and new nail polish and on and on! You would think I had never traveled before!  So now a shopping trip was added into the agenda!

Elva and I had decided to take a trial run walk to the place where we were to meet our early Sunday morning excursion.  We wanted to be sure we knew the way and would not be lost and knew how long it would take.  We had walked down Catalunya to the Palau de Musica and the Viator tour offices were across the way from the entrance. Catalunya is a pedestrian way and sidewalk cafes were filled with families and young lovers, and laughing friends.  Such a wonderful, peaceful, and joyous way to spend a warm October evening.

When we got to the office it was open and we confirmed the details of our excursion and started back.  We ended up on what became a scenic route but soon found ourselves at the corner café by our hotel. The delightful stroll and not so relaxing way back made us ready for dinner and our warm beds.  Elva ordered quiche and a salad and I had a hot ham and cheese sandwich and salad.  The waiter was so delightful and we joked and laughed and teased.

Pretty soon Carol and Pete came by and joined us.  What was going to be an evening in our room so I could catch up with you, soon became a warm memory of happy chatter and new friends that I think will be ours for a long time to come! It turned out that they were going to the same office in the morning so we made plans to share a cab. When we got upstairs I showered and went to bed and read.  6:30 am was going to come early.

And it did.

We had a 7:00 am breakfast at which was delicious and had a good variety of foods to suit the breakfast needs of their international guests.  We then took the cab and quickly were joining our tours.  They went to Monserrat and Cava while we went to Figures, Caduques (pronounced like the first part of ‘catechism.’ The town is pronounced Cat – a – ches.)  Then we went on to Port LLigat.

During the two hour minivan ride the guide told the eighteen of us a great deal about Cataluña and the Catalan people.  Also about the rise of surrealism and the various artists and hangers on that made that community so interesting and creative.  When we arrived in Figures I was surprised that it was a pretty big little city.  Here we visited the Dali museum.  Built into the city wall, the old theater became the egomaniac’s salute to himself.  It came into being because the mayor asked the famous artist, who was living there, to help restore and refurbish the building but Dali responded that he would do that if it could be a museum about him!  Didn’t the mayor think their most important person deserved his own monument?

The pink walls topped with eggs and golden Oscar-like statutes also post ceramic poop!  Within the museum we could see the range of his genius.  The naked lady portrait that in a photo appears to be a bust of Lincoln is just the beginning.  I am beginning to develop an appreciation for art and artists.

At Caduques we had more than an hour at the whitewashed, seaside village.  And that was just enough time, barely, to eat lunch under an umbrella while little boys fished nearby.  This was the countryside, summer home of the Dali family.  We heard many stories of the Dali family, in particular of how the father influenced young Salvador . . . and not for the good.

Our last stop was in the little fishing village of Port LLigat.  Here the home of Dali and his wife, Galla, started as one little fisherman’s home and was added to over and over as cottages became available.  The structure of the white stuccoed cottage is on so many levels that it is as though each room is a home of its own. Galla, who is the model for so many of his works, was the mastermind of the business of Salvador Dali.  Sort of a marketing manager.  And both of them were very interested in the money.

Our guide was great and told us so many wonderful stories that I suggest you look up and read a little of the private life of Dali.  And, just a note, I always kid about his work to say, ‘There must have been some heavy drugs involved.’  Ironically – no.  Salvador Dali never took and illegal drugs, never smoked, and was only a social drinker who would have a ‘small glass of wine or champagne’ at an event like an opening of one of his shows at a gallery.  And then, he would have only one and perhaps not even finish it.

Our day ended with a drive back to the city in Sunday evening return from the beach traffic.  It took more than an hour longer than planned and so we missed our meeting up with Carol and Pete.  We didn’t even eat dinner but went straight to bed!

Barcelona was about 36 hours of focus on the arts.