A Farewell to Barcelona

Barcelona isn’t an easy city to leave but, as the saying goes, all good things must eventually come to an end. When I decided to spend a month here, the world was its relatively peaceful self. Being here during the pandemic meant some of my plans were thwarted, such as having the freedom to visit certain places, attend concerts and other cultural events, or just generally enjoy the lively night scene. However, I was also a beneficiary of the lack of tourists and had places like the Picasso Museum, Fundació Joan Miró, and even La Sagrada Familia practically to myself.

I love this city, but it does feel a little too big, too crowded, too touristy (yes, even now), too impersonal, and definitely too expensive. That said, If I could afford to live here comfortably, I definitely would. So yes, the only thing that stops me from making Barça my permanent home is money. Well, that and the fact that I haven’t experienced enough places in Spain to make a definitive decision yet. Checking and evaluating various regions was precisely the reason for coming here in the first place, so I will continue on my journey. I have eleven more months to figure things out. In the meantime, I do have some parting observations regarding Catalunya generally and Barcelona specifically.

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I really enjoyed my stay with my AirBnB hosts, D and E. Both of them are very into bobbleheads (mostly Anime) but also Marvel and Harry Potter. Their DVD/Blu-ray collection is impressive, especially when prominently displayed in such a small place. Both of them work from home though we didn’t hang out much; they were busy and I had places to be, most of the time. The days I stayed in to work on the blog and rest the knees, I kept to my room most of the time, going out only to find food. I did enjoy the company of Sadie, their lovely Ragdoll kitty, who warmed up to me quite quickly, even though I wouldn’t let her into my room too much since she, apparently, enjoys jumping off the (technically, 2nd floor) balcony onto the street below. And since I liked having the window open most of the time, we had a passing relationship … as in we bonded as I passed her on my way in and out. Please do not let Lucy know I had a temporary replacement pet … she’s already not that happy with me (though we are working on fixing that 🙃). While I was there, D and E were doing some renovations to the bathrooms, so it was pretty basic at times, but now that those are finished, the place looks great. I highly recommend them as hosts for anyone visiting Barcelona.

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Their apartment in the Les Corts neighbourhood, fairly close to Camp Nou, is in a pretty quiet “residential” area. I had great access to buses and trams, and the metro wasn’t too far away. It is within walking distance to Plaça d’Espanya, the train station (Barcelona-Sants), the university area, and even Casa Milá, though I tended to walk home a lot, rather than to the places I visited. Right across from the apartment building there was a coffee shop, SantaGloria, where I spent pretty much every morning having breakfast and coffee. I started with croissants, but soon realized that there were so many other choices I should probably try more, plus starting my every morning with what is technically dessert was not sustainable. So my daily morning meal was typically some sort of bocadillo (sandwich) with various toppings: Serrano ham, cheese, tomato, fuet (Catalonian pork sausage), tuna, or various combinations thereof. I think my favourite was fuet. The ladies in the coffee shop were very nice and always knew what I wanted as soon as walked in: café con leche, a bocadillo, and, after a while, the little chocolate-filled croissants. Some days I’d bring my laptop with me and sit there for a couple of hours working on the photos for this blog. Other days, I’d run along right after breakfast on the way to the train station or museum of the day.

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Too often I spent way too much time looking for a place to eat dinner, especially before I finally figured out a system that worked for me. This meant I was often hungry between 4:00pm and 7:30pm, the worst possible time to find an open restaurant (or much else for that matter). I’m sure there are areas in the city where this is not a problem but they would be the tourist-oriented ones and, therefore, not in Les Corts. After all, it’s only tourists who don’t know when to be hungry, Spanish-style. So, in my neighbourhood, I was often out of luck and had to walk around quite a bit to find something I actually felt like eating. There was one place just around the corner I ended up in a few times, but some days I did get a bit frustrated. As I increased my radius scavenging for food, I came across interesting finds; for one, it seems Anytime Fitness is everywhere:

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And two: Chileans are also everywhere, though I kinda expected that already 😉 I think one of the workers doing the bathroom renovation was Chilean, judging by the number of “weones” I heard him throw around. It is pretty much an expectation that one will bump into someone from Chile in every part of the world and Barcelona is no different.

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Three: pigeons are also everywhere. Or maybe they’re doves … sorry, I’m not very versed in the types of Columbaves native to Spain. Though I have to say, the local paloma seems a lot less annoying and maybe even friendlier creature than the pigeons I had to deal with when living in Chile, and they’re definitely nicer than Canadian seagulls.

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I spent way too much trying to find my favourite bookstore (see earlier post about that), but, fortunately, there were plenty other ones I could poke my nose into. One of them was the one below our apartment from 2013, on Rambla Catalunya (also mentioned in an earlier post). The other, was the massive FNAC store which I found is a chain akin to Chapters/Indigo in Canada but with a bit heavier accent on electronics and music. FNACs sell books, too, and I did spend more time there than I meant to, only to leave empty-handed each time (😱). I did particularly enjoy the travel section where Canada was represented, albeit in typical, if not a bit stereotypical, fashion. No wonder the whole world thinks we all live in igloos!

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I know most of my readers do not speak or read Polish, so they won’t get why I found this next little find so funny. Let me explain: in Polish, żółty /ˈʐuw.tɨ/ means yellow. As in Yellow Cab 👀! Either this is a happy coincidence or some Polish people with a sense of humour started a taxi company in Barcelona. Either way, every time I saw one I enjoyed my little private joke and smiled.

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Catalunya is very green. I’m not sure why I expected anything else, but I think my thinking was coloured (no pun intended) by the hues of Andalucía, particularly areas between Granada, Sevilla, and Cádiz, where other than some pine trees, there seem to be much dry earth covering the hills, and not lush forests that remind me of British Columbia. As I travelled between Barcelona and the other towns north and south of it, I saw green mountains everywhere, with the occasional castle in the distance. It was, I must admit, a very pleasant surprise. Previously I thought only the Atlantic Comunidades autónomas and maybe the Pyrénées were so green. I guess I should have spent more time watching La Vuelta, especially when they were going through Catalunya. My bad.

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Barcelona is a city of contrasts. All throughout you see many Gothic, Romanesque, and modernist buildings, sprinkled with some very modern and even avant-garde architecture. There are areas that speak of great wealth and areas you know are very poor, sometimes within a few blocks of each other. Some neighbourhoods have spacious avenues and buildings separated by green space while some are so densely packed you wonder how the people living there can stand being so close to each other. And sometimes the two are literally next door neighbours. In this photo, not only do the two buildings differ in age, but I bet also in unit size, modernity, and definitely cost. What’s also interesting that the area in the forefront is an even poorer area, at least from what I was able to glean. It’s all walled-off with what look like lean-tos inside, ghetto-style, or maybe something you’d see in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro and not in the middle of a nice neighbourhood in Barcelona.

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To truly know Barcelona, one needs to live here a long time, though preferably not during a pandemic, and be willing to explore its nooks and crannies, both literal and figurative. I wish I had more time to do so, but I also know this month was totally worth it and I will never forget it. I cannot wait to come back to continue exploring it.

Yo ❤️ Barcelona.