Barcelona Travel Blog part three -- Day trip to Tarragona

Now for something completely different -- a stroll to the Roman town of Tarragona. We booked our tickets from the comfort Newark Airport two nights before our trip, wisely opting to take the 10 am train instead of the earlier one, and opting to return at 9:30 after enjoying dinner.

We all know what happens to the best laid plans.

(return trip when we sat together)

I convinced Don we would take the metro to the train station even though it was "only" an 18-minute walk from the AirBnB knowing the likelihood of us getting lost was great. Taking the metro to the train station was the short part of the trip. Finding the train station from underground was the hard part (look for the signs that say RENFE, we just followed people with luggage). We made it to our train early, but forgot to pause to pick up a croissant for Don (I made eggs for my own breakfast, but Don just wanted something from a bakery). 

We couldn't figure out how to use our eTicket. We had to enter through the line with train staff who eyeballed the ticket and let us pass. Note to future self, just buy the ticket at the train station.

The train was full. We were lucky to get tickets across the aisle from each other. Yes, we did wear our masks. (See post about catching COVID for that to make more sense.)

Since one of my goals was to dip our toes in the Mediterranean Sea, we began our day in Tarragona by walking on the beach. 

Probably more pictures than one needs about a beach in a town known for its ancient ruins, but keep reading.

At first the water was a bit brisk, but it was easy to get used to. In most places the sand was soft, and the waves gentle. There were a couple of rough patches where shells and pebbles gathered. I wore my Chaco sandals, but Don was barefoot. There were showers just off the beach where you could rinse off.

Taking the off-beat path meant an added challenge when trying to find the tourist section. I asked a local (a man walking a dog) how to find the tourist attractions (I tried a version of centro historico that seemed to work). Another note to self, I should have brushed up on basic Spanish before leaving. My default foreign language is French, which slipped out at the post office and other places that didn't understand English. A little "buenos dias, senior" would have helped over "bonjour, messieur" or "hola dude." No, I didn't say "dude," but I did think it. 

We found the Roman Circus! A decision had to be made -- one attraction for 3 euros or 4 four for 7.40 euros. We'll take the four-pack! As we are paying for our tickets we learned one of the four is only open in the morning and therefore we can't go to it. Have a nice day! 

Grumble, grumble.

We put a pause on the Roman Circus to find food. But, first we went to a building to see a 3-D map of the city because that building closed the earliest. It was free -- no ticket needed.

While there I eyed up a crepe place for lunch. I convinced Don a crepe could be lunch food (he was thinking of sweet crepes, not realizing they could also be savory). There was a long list of crepes with very stereotypical names. I had the Gringo crepe -- Gouda, guacamole, and white asparagus. Don had the Catalon crepe -- ham, cheese, spinach, and pine nuts. The service was best described as languid, a tough pace for Americans to appreciate. It was good, and filling.

We continued our walk to the ancient walls. It makes sense, but the walls grew taller over time as the needs of the locals grew. I did not make a lot of notes here probably because we were on the self-guided tour. We did meet an older couple from the United Kingdom (who happens to live in France) who took some terrific pictures of us -- not what I asked them to take, but much better. I jokingly said it might become our Christmas card photo, and they said "that's right you do that in America."

This was more what I thought I wanted:

More pictures from inside the walls:

One of the reasons I chose Saturday to go to Tarragona was because near the Cathedral there was going to be a Medieval Festival (which every time I say, I hear the lyrics "the king's festival" in my head). The festival was more like a local craft fair, they just happen to have Medieval-style artisans and games. I was in awe with how after winding through narrow roads the Cathedral is all of a sudden "there," much how it was a long time ago in Paris before homes were cleared to make way for a wide tourist-friendly plaza.

One more parting shot before heading back to Ancient Roman times:

We finally toured the Roman Circus. My brief notes say "many, many stairs -- from an open wooden 4-5 story staircase to a spiral stone one." There was an elevator for "the needy." Also many tunnels. Overall the pedometer recorded 30 flights of stairs. 

Of note, in its day, Roman Circus was free for the general public. It was the main social activity for the area. I saw the wealthy paid a lot of money to make their presence know. I see this as early sponsorship opportunities. 

Across the street, the amphitheater in Rome housed 125,000 spectators, this one only 25,000. Not many people lived in Tarragona at the time. I did not see how far they traveled to attend events. Roman Circus would have been connected to the Amphitheater in its day, but now they are two separate ticketed venues (or part of the four-pack).

We took a "Playbill" picture since we were in a "theater." Perhaps you need to be a theater geek to appreciate that.

Though the Roman Forum closed hours earlier, after having some gelato we walked over there. 

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...lend us your ears!

A bigger highlight was seeing cats lounging.

By this point we were still hours away from the time on our train ticket. I took a gamble and said we would grab an earlier train. No one checked our tickets (not surprised based on the ride in). Until, that is, it was time to exit. Once again our e-ticket did not work with their turnstile so we had to show it to a guard. He took a look at it and waved us through -- two hours earlier than our train should have left Tarragona. 

Whew!

Next up: find dinner and see the Magic Fountain show!

Barcelona Travel Blog part two -- our first walking tour

Picking up where we left off, at 4:30 pm Albert, our local tour guide led a small group of us on a two and a half hour tour of the Barri Gotic through Runnier Bean Tours. Don thought he was kidding when he said the free tour would last that long. Or maybe he just hoped it wouldn't be that long.

Albert, 32, is local to Barcelona. He learned English while living in London. His passion is history. I think for him two and a half hours was not nearly long enough. On a day with more sleep, I would have agreed with him. In the past I have taken walking tours of that length, but they included a bathroom break in the middle. 

As with all "free" tours, they are really pay what you want. In some countries I've tipped in US Dollars, anticipating our guides love to travel and the US Dollar is more widely accepted than Scandinavian currencies. This time we tipped in euros.

The tour began in Placa Reial, steps away from Las Ramblas. It is a pretty square with palm trees and restaurants. A nice meeting place. The square reminded me of Havana. Don said it reminded him of Italy. It is amazing how the brain makes connections based on past experiences.

Albert showed us historic maps of Barcelona. Up until 160 years ago, Barcelona was surrounded by a wall. It was a small Roman town founded by Roman Augustus about 2000 years earlier. The area was divided into three sections by large boulevards. About 1.6 million people live in the town. In 2019, they had at least 30 million tourists (based on the 4.40 euro per person tax charged by hotels, more since you can't count the places that don't charge the tax). 

We were efficiently led through the meandering alleys to Placa del Pi, where the 14th century Santa Maria del Pi church is located. This church dates back to the Middle Ages. It is considered the style of Catalonian Gothic. Albert showed us examples of French Gothic (Notre Dame de Paris) and Italian Gothic (Duomo in Florence, Italy). Both are much more ornate. Catalonian Gothic is somber, neutral, rather boring looking. This is not a cathedral because each city only has one cathedral (which is where the bishop is housed) and we'll see that later in the tour.

The name refers to the pine forest that was there 2000 years earlier.

We walked around the back of the church to see what was left from the Roman era.

Fooled you! The ancient Roman wall was patched in the 1950s by the brick, and capped with towers in the Middle Ages. A giant boulevard called (in English) the street of the bishops was built as a main entrance into the walls. The small portion of a Roman aqueduct that used to stretch 13 kilometers to bring water from the mountains to the city is really a replica built in the 1950s. Albert added many of the buildings in the Gothic Quarter are simply replicas built to encourage tourism. 

Albert had pictures that showed us the area without the arch. Well played, Barcelona.

This takes us to the only cathedral in Barcelona: Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, otherwise known as the Barcelona Cathedral. Yes, that is a giant ad for Samsung in the middle of the façade. They are paying for the renovations and want everyone to know it.

The cathedral was built at the end of the 13th century -- the same time as the previous church. Unlike the previous church, though, this is not the original façade. This one was added at the end of the 19th century to look pretty for the tourists. Yes, tourism was a thing over a hundred years ago. This neo-Gothic front was added in 1888. The inside (which we did not see) supposedly retains its old qualities.

Behind the cathedral we found Placa Sant Felip Neri -- both the school and a church. Unlike most European cities I have visited, Barcelona did not seem to suffer much damage in World War II, probably because it already suffered a lot of damage during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). This square was rebuilt by having buildings moved to fill in the gaps left by bombs. Some strafing was left as a reminder of the 42 lives lost during a 1938 bombing. It is a square hidden to the tourists, but enjoyed by the locals (especially the children who go to school there), and film makers.

Added section

Added in 1970s -- why doesn't our 1970s
architecture look this elegant?

"El Call" or the Jewish Quarter was our next stop. If memory serves me correctly, this was about half-way into our tour. It was a lot of great information to absorb on very little sleep. A tour goer impressed we were doing this on our first day suggested doing it again later in the trip. Alas, we didn't have time for that.

El Call is the oldest part of the Gothic Quarter. It housed their thriving Jewish community. Even 2,000 years earlier, 4,000 Jews lived among the Romans. In the Middle Ages they made up a 12th of the population. Then the Black Plague hit. For some reason (likely because the Jewish people washed their hands more often, even before germs were understood), Jews did not die as much as non-Jews. They were then looked upon with wariness. Also, Jews were much more literate than Christians of the day. Three hundred Jews were murdered for not converting to Christianity. Others fled to Morocco. 

Albert walked us around to show us the location of the oldest synagogue. There didn't seem to be anything noteworthy to take a picture of.

A few more turns and we landed in Placa Sant Jaume -- the center of political life in Barcelona for over 2,000 years. The wide square is home to modern government buildings and flags begging for / against Catalonia to separate from Spain. Best as I can tell it is a fight that is happening throughout the world: we feel we pay too much to support the rest of you, we'd be better on our own, we want out, and we are taking all of our marbles with us. Think Brexit. I was clearly not going to understand the ins and outs of the debate on that beautiful afternoon, but I'll pay more attention to the news when I hear about Catalonia.

Then we took a detour to a part many locals don't know exists: Roman columns inside an apartment building. Living in the United States where we revere buildings from George Washington's era, something that is about 2,000 years old in the middle of a apartment building just astounds me. Being so secluded, it looks like a great place to take wedding pictures.

We strolled over the the King's Square (Place del Rei). It was restored in the 1930s because someone felt it did not look "Gothic enough" and would not appeal to the tourists. Beneath us, there was an old Roman village. In the square is the Museum of the History of Barcelona, highly recommended by Peter, but in the end we did not get there. 

The King's Square is where the Spanish Inquisition took place 

Much of the stones to rebuild this square came from Montjuic -- the Jewish mountain. Unfortunately many of the stones were not "stones" but tombstones.

Moving on we ended our tour with Santa Maria del Mar (Saint Mary by the Sea). 

Thought we couldn't see the sea from where we were standing, our guide assured us the sea used to be 60 meters away, today it is 300 meters away. It is called "the people's cathedral" because it was built by locals with money raised by locals (rather than by artisans with wealthy backing) ... sailors, fisherman, etc. It only took 54 years to build. (See my blog post on Sagrada Familia after I write it for a modern day comparison.) We were encouraged to walk inside at the end of the tour.

We walked around the side of the church (still not a cathedral, because you can only have one cathedral) to the graveyard of fairy trees (I swear that's what the guide said). There is always a graveyard near a church, but in the 19th century they deemed that not very hygienic (you think?). There is a monument of the eternal flame that was erected in 2001 to honor those who fought from 1713-1714 for succession.

Around the corner we were told were great places to eat. I was given the same talk I was given in Paris and in other cities ... avoid places with pictures, with menus in English, aim for the local places. They are much more authentic -- not to mention cheaper. Great ideas in theory, but when you are tired and don't understand any Spanish or Catalonian, you are sunk. So you do what feels comfortable, you find the closets Hard Rock Cafe and do take out because you have no energy to wait an hour for a table. Then you eat on a park bench and promise yourself you'll do better tomorrow (and you do). Then you commit to a 10 pack of a metro card for 7.95 euros (much less than a dollar a ride!).

Next up: day 2's adventures

Barcelona Travel Blog part one -- let's start at the very beginning

I enjoy traveling. Especially internationally. I suppose these adventures began in July when I renewed my passport -- the one set to expire in November. We had just returned from Niagara Falls, Canada, which hardly counts as an international trip since I could still see my home country during most of our trip. Other than not being able to use our data plan and having to use a different dollar, it wasn't different enough from the United States.

I promptly mailed my passport and waited an eternity (in reality five weeks) for it to be returned in a shiny new package. It arrived the week of my birthday, along with it the itch to take it someplace I have never before seen.

I asked friends for suggestions. Magical places such as Istanbul, Morocco, Costa Rica, Egypt, Peru, Poland, and Buenos Aires -- a list I am typing here to remind me of ideas the next time the itch arrives.

Don was set to ride his bike across Pennsylvania. His trip was cancelled. He wanted to go with with. His caveat: with the dollar so strong against the euro let's take advantage of that.

Somehow a combined Barcelona/Madrid trip seemed perfect.

Then I wrote to a friend with family in Barcelona and she recommended staying in Barcelona and saving Madrid for another trip. If I wanted a day trip, go to Tarragona. In many ways this made sense -- it was our first international trip in years; I was overwhelmed figuring out how many days in each city, what to do, etc. Sticking to just one city expanded the options.

My friend Jean sent me a sample itinerary her son, Peter a.k.a. Better-than-Rick-Steves, made for a friend of his. 

On Thursday, October 13 we left with a vague plan:

Friday: land at 9 AM, find place, eat, walk around, 4:30 walking tour of the Gothic Quarter.

Saturday: Tarragona. Medieval Festival. Tour Roman ruins.

Sunday: Church (International Church Barcelona) ???

Monday: museums are closed. Walking tour Gaudi.

Tuesday: Gaudi cathedral tour (Sagrada Familia) with guide in English and towers

Each night we reassessed the trip and added to the schedule.

Let's start at Newark Airport on Thursday afternoon.

A silent protest against United Airlines charging extra to choose seats led us to not pay the surplus. It also led to stress at the ambiguity of where will they seat us. I anticipated we would each be in a middle seat in the middle of the smoking section (anyone who traveled with flight benefits in the 1970's and 1980's recognizes that reference!). We made sure to arrive super early to be the first ones to be assigned seats. So we waited. And waited. And waited. Our flight was delayed. About two hours before the time we were originally set to fly United assigned our seats. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I was able to determine they were the bulk head center seats.

For future reference, I wouldn't pay extra for these seats. The extra legroom was an invitation for people to step over our legs to cross to the bathroom with the shorter line, then back again. Food was great, and it was a treat to not have someone lean their seat into our laps. We watched the Friends reunion and napped.

Once we landed we waited in a long line to get through customs. In my next life I will have multiple passports and be able to use the shortest line (in the EU that would be the European passport). Alas, Don and I fall into the "All Others" line. A guard took pity on our long line and let a few of us cross into the EU line where we sailed and suddenly my passport had its first international stamp less than two months after it was issued.

Prompted by Jean's advice we took the Aerobus to the center of Barcelona. My pre-trip research skills failed me and we got off on the wrong stop. After wandering around Placa Catalonia (forgive my lack of accent marks, after I get my thoughts down I can go back to fix them, it is too slow on an American keyboard), we realized we had no idea how to find the small street with the AirBnB on it so Don ignited his phone's data plan so he could use Google maps to download directions to his watch (very Dick Tracy in my mind). 

A note on that ... it is nearly impossible to travel with just wifi anymore. Everything is on the phone including tickets and access to QR codes to learn more.

After a 30 minute walk we found the AirBnB. Our hostess was waiting for us with the key (I thought we were just going to be able to drop off our stuff and come back later, so this was a pleasant surprise).

The place was located on a side street off of Av. Parel-el in the newly trendy Poble Sec neighborhood. Reviews raved about the area. Frankly, it looked pretty non-descript upon our initial impression. Everything sort of looked the same. As our stay unfolded, we discovered at least three grocery stores, two bakeries, and a never ending street of outdoor dining. There was also a school, and some local businesses. The best part was we were a ten minute stroll from the theater. It was the type of place where I would love to live someday.

After spending an hour unpacking and regrouping we decided it was time to explore. We started aimlessly walking in the opposite direction of where we came from in search of lunch.

We met a couple from Massachusetts on a cruise ship stop. Walked through a market -- which looked a lot like our Farmers Market, but on steroids.

Don plugged the start of our 4:30 walking tour into his phone and began the search for lunch.

Something about the name and the cheery yellow door we could not resist. The service was friendly. We relaxed with some beer and wine. I ordered tapas. I think Don had a chicken sandwich. 

We continued the journey after lunch admiring the sights. Reveling in the perfect 75 degree weather. Marveling at the 1:1 ratio for the euro to dollar (something not seen since the euro began in 2000). 

We made it to the start of our free walking tour with about 2 hours to spare. Hmm... we pulled out Peter's guide of what to see in Barcelona and figured out what we could do near Place Reia (yes, the start of our walking tour was on the map). We decided to walk on La Rambla towards the water and back again.

That left us with an hour until our walking tour began. So we walked in the opposite direction towards the Gothic Quarter -- the section we would soon be walking with a guide.

I feel some of my pictures did not come over when I did the download. I'll look into that later and try to add them when I find them.

Next up, part two -- our first walking tour.

Spiritual Retreat

Last weekend I embarked on a one day spiritual retreat at Faith Presbyterian Church in Emmaus, PA. The retreat was organized by Becki, a pastor I will always first think of as a youth in the youth group Don and I helped lead twenty years ago. It is a reminder to all of us that in God's eyes we are all his children, therefore in the eyes of church adults, we don't always grow up. I'm not sure of the correct wording, but there is a genuine thought of love in this feeling.

The retreat was 90 minutes away -- a town away from where Ashley is in college. It is a long way to drive on a Saturday morning, especially since the only person I knew in the group was Pastor Becki.

I was drawn to the belly dancing aspect of the day. I never thought of belly dancing as something akin to meditation. To mindfulness. In truth, I knew very little about belly dancing despite trying it out at restaurant recently as part of the entertainment during our meal.

Much of belly dancing is isolating a body part and focusing on that part to make it move, while telling the rest of your body to stay put. Move your shoulder up and to the front -- but not the whole arm. Raise the left part your chest (but not by taking a deep breath), the the right part, but don't move the shoulders, too. Keep your head up and smile. 

It is a lot to keep track of! 

I was surprised by how great a work out it is. One I am looking into finding a place close to home where I can take lessons.

In the middle of the session, though, I was hit with a wave of grief. I remembered Carin used to belly dance. I miss her all the time, though I will admit days pass where I do not think of her. When I do think of her, I am impressed by how much she squeezed into her life. I wonder how her children and husband are carrying on without her. I miss being able to share my little life's updates with her.

Back to the session ... I was late to mirror meditation, but based on people's reactions at the end, it was intense. The session culminated in created a mantra for yourself to break the cycle of self-hate. 

I wrote the following mantras:

Trust myself

Believe in myself

I am enough

I have good instincts

I will try

I will do

The session ended with writing what we want to do away with, and burning the
slip of paper in a burning ceremony. In between a therapy dog visited, meditative yoga took place, and we could walk the labyrinth. As a bonus, we could color.

There was a session on Intuitive Eating and another on How Chiropractic Benefits our Bodies and Minds. I think the day would have been fine without those sessions, and adding in more time to reflect and relax.

Lunch was a salad bar -- something many noted we have not done since the pandemic. Due to our small size, it felt safe, but still an observation.

They are hoping to do this retreat again next year. 

Dreaming

Twice in the past few weeks I have had a vivid dream where I am giving birth.

No, this is not an announcement. At 53, that ship has sailed. So I googled what does giving birth (when you are not expecting) mean. 

According to Dreams.co.uk:  

The most common meanings behind a dream about giving birth are to do with new beginnings, creativity and prosperity. This dream symbolizes that something exciting is coming your way and you’re ready to embark on a new phase of your waking life. The baby in your dream is a sign of a fresh start, a new project or a relationship that‘s about to bloom. It’s all about hope, anticipation, growth and success.

At the time I was interviewing for a new job. I was hopeful THAT was the new beginning. In a twist of fate, instead my current position at The Bridge Academy went full time (with health insurance and paid time off -- I feel like an adult for the first time since Ashley was born). 

When I was getting excited about the change being a new job, I booked a trip to Barcelona. We leave in a week. I hope to share posts about that upon my return.

Unfortunately I have not had that dream since learning I will not be working for Princeton in Asia. Next time I have it, I will welcome the chance for change.