Thith Ith Barthelona
Sadly our time in beautiful Mallorca had come to an end today. It was a whirlwind stay that has only whet our appetites for more one day! Friendly neighbour Maria had organised one last excursion to the beach so everyone piled into the car and headed to the gorgeous stretch of coastline we had visited on our first day. After that it was a mammoth pack up, gathering everyone’s belongings from the 4 corners of the house. Sam’s watch was left behind but it’s a miracle we managed to find everything else. With heavy hearts, we farewelled Lola and her beautiful family, who had been so good to us, and prepared to leave this gorgeous island.
We were all feeling the effects of our previous night’s midnight tapas, so for our weary little bunch, trudging to the farthest gate in the airport (Gate 99!) with seemingly non-existent airconditioning in the sticky atmosphere of the airport, felt like we were running a marathon in gumboots. Our plane was slightly delayed but we touched down safely in Barcelona in no time at all. Just as a side note, I know it’s socially unacceptable to recline an airline seat on a short flight but when you are desperately seeking some shut-eye, that little silver button on the side of your bolt upright seat is a cruel temptation. It struck me mid-flight in a lightbulb moment, why don’t they make it compulsory for everyone to recline their seats once the seatbelt sign goes off? How good would that be? “Attention passengers, please note, the seatbelt sign has now gone off and you must now recline your seats”. Just a thought.
Tobes could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of being back where he’d resided for all those months last year and was champing at the bit to see his friends. Staying in a Homeaway apartment, we had arranged to meet someone who would let us in and give us the keys. The apartment was in a big old building with an ornate gate onto the street, really high ceilings and a Gone With The Wind staircase sweeping up to the the higher floors. The little old-fashioned lift, which Maisy described as ‘sketchy’, had tiny glass double doors you opened manually and a heavy gilded outer door. We had to do several trips up as it was tiny and poor Molly was left stranded on the ground floor when Toby had forgotten to shut the doors, rendering the lift unable to be summoned back downstairs. Just as we were wondering why she was taking so long, she burst through the doors gasping for breath after having had to lug her 20kg suitcase up eight flights of stairs! Poor thing!
While the apartment is pretty spacious and well-equipped, it requires 2 of us to sleep on a sofa bed in the loungeroom so straws were drawn as to who those lucky two would be. Molly and I dipped out, much to Molly’s consternation. There is a small laundry in the bathroom cupboard and a clothesline suspended out over the sheer drop below. It’s a long way down! You wouldn’t want to drop a sock! Sam did a load of washing and carefully hung his clothes there. Hopefully they’ll still be there in the morning!
With Toby as our seasoned guide, we jumped on the Metro and made our way to the home of the Pujols, the family he stayed with when he was here. Their daughter Maria also spent 3 months in Australia staying with us so we were keen to see her again too. Their unit is part of a massive block of high rise residential flats that, along with 3 other buildings the same, forms a square around a huge paved, common courtyard at the bottom. With little balconies facing the centre, all the units have clotheslines like ours, extending out, suspended over the abyss below. Maria’s unit was very compact to say the least and we noticed a little Australian flag proudly displayed in the corner. It was so great to be and see where Toby had lived and to finally meet Anna and Pere, his host parents. They were so glad to see him and there were warm hugs all round.
Toby caught the Metro to his friend, Ricard’s house, where a whole group of his friends had gathered in a welcome home party for him. Meanwhile, The Pujols walked with us down to the famous La Rambla, the main street through the city, pointing out all the important sights along the way and throwing in a bonus history lesson about the place of Barcelona within Spain and within Catalunya. In October this year they’ll hold a referendum to decide whether or not they should secede from Spain and form an independent country. The number of Catalan flags and pro-republic posters flying from balconies seem to suggest that change is imminent. He said it was an amazing time to be living here.
Barcelona is such a pretty city! There is an eclectic mix of old and modern with lots of tall, leafy trees right through the streets. The beautiful ornate lanterns, shuttered balconies, paved walkways and cute, century-old laneways contrast with the bright billboards, colours and lights of the shops (all still closed on Sundays due to the strong Catholic heritage of the place). Shuttered shops are covered in graffiti, making some areas seem like tough neighbourhoods though it seems to be widespread through the city. Ross assures me it has less of a ghetto feel during the day when they are all open and the graffiti is hidden.
La Rambla was a hive of activity today. There were artists painting portraits, buskers in body paint, souvenir shops and stalls by the dozen, people out enjoying the sunshine in outdoor cafes, as the loud church bells pealed in the street. We followed the wide bustling thoroughfare all the way to the beach, where there was a buzz of outdoor activity – rollerbladers, skaters, bike riders, soccer and volleyball on the beach. There are two promenades running parallel to the ocean; one at street level and one along the sand, where there are restaurants and bars lining the walkway. The kids had some incredibly delicious crepes from a food truck (chocolate and milk caramel). By the time we met up with Toby and sat down for some paella, we’d been walking for three hours straight and had aching legs!
We are really looking forward to some more exploring over the next few days.
