I absolve you of your sins, Barcelona
Okay, after my metro pickpocketing incident, I was determined to hate Barcelona.
But I just couldn´t. How could anyone hate such a city, with kooky modernist buildings by Antoni Gaudi (and why don´t we hear more about him back in Canada? Or perhaps my previous ignorance is not a common one...), the ocean, the mountains, the delicious coffee and pastries, the uber-cheap produce at corner stores, and I mean, the paella! So even though I set out yesterday ready to be grouchy and maudlin about the lack of wallet and id (other than passport, which I luckily still have) I had a pretty fantastic day.
One thing I´m not sure whether I loved or hated though was the metropolis of consumerism at the port. A big mall with all kinds of bright lights and shops that was buzzing with all kinds of people even at 9 on a Sunday night...
In any case, seeing La Sagrada Familia (imagine! A church that´s been in construction for over 100 years! And there are still cranes and plaster workshops up all over the place) and the Parc Guell sort of make up for my shitty first day there. So Barcelona, you´re alright with me. Your pickpockets, however, are on notice.
And now I´m in Malaga, at the bus station waiting for a bus to the mountains. If theré´s one thing you can count on about bus stations the world over, it´s that they´re sketchy as all hell. For example, that main bus terminal in Toronto? Yikes. I try to avoid arriving there late at night. And in Prague, on the way to catch my bus to Barcelona, I saw what I thought were market stalls in the square of the station. Given my penchant for markets, I got a little excited, and made my excitement known to my guide and amazing Prague hostess, who was quick to inform me that it wasn´t exactly a market, but dudes selling tacky oversized towels with nude or otherwise scantily clad women on them... And now the bus station at Malaga, where in the washroom, a woman with fried blonde hair was leaning into the mirror, grunting and picking at a rather unappealing sore on her face. Geez. Really glad I´m here in the daytime hours. I went across the street to have a coffee and a sandwich at a little cafe, where the man behind the counter worked with surprising alacrity. So quick on his feet, that one. Coffee here, orange juice there, sandwich here, fried pastry thingamabob there, then line the counter with more saucers, each with its own spoon and sugar packet. And still, I am astounded by prices. 2 euros for a caffe con leche and a churizo sausage sandwich, which was not at all skimpy on the meat. It´s no Prague, of course, where beer at a bar cost the equivalent of $1 and change Canadian, and was markedly cheaper at the supermarket (and we´re talking about 500 ml bottles here), but it´ll do.
Oh, and to sum up, I feel that Prague has received rather skimpy treatment in these parts. I really enjoyed my time there, and although I was playing tourist some of the time, I was also living the life of a Praguer (I really think this is what they´re called, as hideous as it sounds) -- taking in my boots to be repaired, interviewing people and visiting a boarding school for a freelance piece for the local English weekly, buying groceries, etc. But just walking around on those cobblestone streets was pretty great, and Zizkov, an area of the city that one guidebook cited for its ¨grungy panache¨ was a pretty cool neck of the woods, with more of that gorgeous Prague architecture and pastel coloured streets that always reminded me of misty mints. Oh, and all remnants of communism I find fascinating. The tv tower in Zizkov, which Czech artist David Cerny has covered with bronze crawling babies, and all sorts of utilitarian looking clocks that stand on street corners the city over, imposing the time upon all comrades who pass. One other thing that was kind of neat, which I wouldn´t have noticed if it hadn´t been for the knowledge of my hosts, is the way that certain stores with very specific functions still exist. There are papirnictvis, or paper shops, all over the place, and there´s even a store in Mala Strana that exclusively sells rope. Imagine that. Of course, the art nouveau fonts proclaiming the presence of tabak and fancy establishment alike as well as all the old buildings that make up the rather large part of Prague that is a Unesco heritage site go without me having to point out.
Oh, before I forget: one final note about Spain thus far. Kevin Spacey´s face is on billboards that line highways and city streets, both in Barcelona and Malaga and elsewhere I´m sure. He´s the poster boy for Dewar´s white label whisky (I´m pretty sure I mean to exclude the ´e´in that spelling, but if not, please forgive my error). I had no idea his career was doing so poorly. From his pose in the photo I can´t help but be reminded of Bill Murray´s character in Lost in Translation. A washed up has been making cringeworthy booze ads abroad.
But I just couldn´t. How could anyone hate such a city, with kooky modernist buildings by Antoni Gaudi (and why don´t we hear more about him back in Canada? Or perhaps my previous ignorance is not a common one...), the ocean, the mountains, the delicious coffee and pastries, the uber-cheap produce at corner stores, and I mean, the paella! So even though I set out yesterday ready to be grouchy and maudlin about the lack of wallet and id (other than passport, which I luckily still have) I had a pretty fantastic day.
One thing I´m not sure whether I loved or hated though was the metropolis of consumerism at the port. A big mall with all kinds of bright lights and shops that was buzzing with all kinds of people even at 9 on a Sunday night...
In any case, seeing La Sagrada Familia (imagine! A church that´s been in construction for over 100 years! And there are still cranes and plaster workshops up all over the place) and the Parc Guell sort of make up for my shitty first day there. So Barcelona, you´re alright with me. Your pickpockets, however, are on notice.
And now I´m in Malaga, at the bus station waiting for a bus to the mountains. If theré´s one thing you can count on about bus stations the world over, it´s that they´re sketchy as all hell. For example, that main bus terminal in Toronto? Yikes. I try to avoid arriving there late at night. And in Prague, on the way to catch my bus to Barcelona, I saw what I thought were market stalls in the square of the station. Given my penchant for markets, I got a little excited, and made my excitement known to my guide and amazing Prague hostess, who was quick to inform me that it wasn´t exactly a market, but dudes selling tacky oversized towels with nude or otherwise scantily clad women on them... And now the bus station at Malaga, where in the washroom, a woman with fried blonde hair was leaning into the mirror, grunting and picking at a rather unappealing sore on her face. Geez. Really glad I´m here in the daytime hours. I went across the street to have a coffee and a sandwich at a little cafe, where the man behind the counter worked with surprising alacrity. So quick on his feet, that one. Coffee here, orange juice there, sandwich here, fried pastry thingamabob there, then line the counter with more saucers, each with its own spoon and sugar packet. And still, I am astounded by prices. 2 euros for a caffe con leche and a churizo sausage sandwich, which was not at all skimpy on the meat. It´s no Prague, of course, where beer at a bar cost the equivalent of $1 and change Canadian, and was markedly cheaper at the supermarket (and we´re talking about 500 ml bottles here), but it´ll do.
Oh, and to sum up, I feel that Prague has received rather skimpy treatment in these parts. I really enjoyed my time there, and although I was playing tourist some of the time, I was also living the life of a Praguer (I really think this is what they´re called, as hideous as it sounds) -- taking in my boots to be repaired, interviewing people and visiting a boarding school for a freelance piece for the local English weekly, buying groceries, etc. But just walking around on those cobblestone streets was pretty great, and Zizkov, an area of the city that one guidebook cited for its ¨grungy panache¨ was a pretty cool neck of the woods, with more of that gorgeous Prague architecture and pastel coloured streets that always reminded me of misty mints. Oh, and all remnants of communism I find fascinating. The tv tower in Zizkov, which Czech artist David Cerny has covered with bronze crawling babies, and all sorts of utilitarian looking clocks that stand on street corners the city over, imposing the time upon all comrades who pass. One other thing that was kind of neat, which I wouldn´t have noticed if it hadn´t been for the knowledge of my hosts, is the way that certain stores with very specific functions still exist. There are papirnictvis, or paper shops, all over the place, and there´s even a store in Mala Strana that exclusively sells rope. Imagine that. Of course, the art nouveau fonts proclaiming the presence of tabak and fancy establishment alike as well as all the old buildings that make up the rather large part of Prague that is a Unesco heritage site go without me having to point out.
Oh, before I forget: one final note about Spain thus far. Kevin Spacey´s face is on billboards that line highways and city streets, both in Barcelona and Malaga and elsewhere I´m sure. He´s the poster boy for Dewar´s white label whisky (I´m pretty sure I mean to exclude the ´e´in that spelling, but if not, please forgive my error). I had no idea his career was doing so poorly. From his pose in the photo I can´t help but be reminded of Bill Murray´s character in Lost in Translation. A washed up has been making cringeworthy booze ads abroad.
posted by c. at 6:36 AM
3 Comments:
Dewars? Seriously? He couldn't even hack for Johnny? Jeez. That IS sad.
- J
ha! actually, celebrities do tonnes of advertising in europe. it's so common there that it's not the least frowned upon...and it pays handsomely.
i want to see what else has been added to sagrada familia since i was there! ack! ack! you're having so much fun!
Re: Spacey.
I was totally picturing Bill Murray before you even said it. Watched Broken Flowers last weekend - wasn't really liking it so I made use of the time and simultaneously waxed my legs.
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