Spanish swirl, Part Dos

Getting ready for a big weekend here in Paris starting off with a Tracy Chapman concert in Porte Maillot and then a holiday party off the Champs Elysee.

Tracy is on a European tour and I am thrilled to be seeing her. Last time I saw her live was at the Old Vic in Chicago where she was the opening act for Ten Thousand Maniacs. Just Tracy on stage with her big old guitar and it was magic. Can’t wait!

Anybody else out there a fan?

Another of the stops on Tracy’s tour is, funnily enough, Barcelona, which I just visited for the first time. I’ve chronicled the first day already, so here goes for the roundup of Day Two:

n     Confession: I slept in! Yes, I felt guilty, but this weekend getaway was also about relaxing and not rushing around like I do in Paris. There’s just something so seductive about hotel sheets that makes me want to spend more time cocooned in them. But I did make it out of the hotel by 11 because I had a mission: find a hot cup of coffee and a pastry for breakfast, stroll through the Gothic Quarter and up the shopping street La Ramblas, and then hit the Boqueria market and sample some fresh seafood.

n      First I went to a chain café place for a totally tasty croissant filled with ham and cheese (meat fillings are not as common in Paris) and a Cappucino Nero (half coffee and half thick dark hot chocolate).

n     Then a stroll over past city hall where several groups of well-dressed Spaniards were waiting to greet couples who were getting married there that day. I saw plenty of ladies in fur stolls and fancy hats that seemed out of another European era standing around amid the city’s Nativity scene, complete with real palm trees but fake camels.

n     Working off breakfast, I wandered up and down La Ramblas making mental notes of cute clothing shops to return to later. But the main sights here were the human statues: artists in costume who stand still, or pose for photos for small tips. Spaniards seem to think bathroom humor is particularly funny as evidence by the gentleman pictured here… you can barely make out the yellow whoopee cushion under his jacket that he would press to make embarrassing noises each time someone gave him a tip. This was an incredible crowd pleaser. I did manage to duck into a show store, creatively titles “Outlet” and found two great pairs of soft black (of course!) all-leather pumps with medium-high heels. One pair is strictly for holiday wear (this weekend’s party perhaps?) because the leather has been tooled in a way that makes them sparkly. Bizarre, I know, but it works. Marked down from 84 euros to 20. I also ducked into the H&M to do my park to forestall the Spanish (and Swedish) recession and found a beautiful v-necked turquoise top for 19 euros that will definitely go into the holiday party rotation with the sparkly shoes, black lace pants and a Mongolian lamb boa.

n     Shopping worked up an appetite so it was off to the open air market known as La Boqueria. Wow. The colors, the bustle: this may well be the best market in the world. Locals were buying whole turkeys, live lobsters, special hams. I bought a sealed packet of pork to take back to Paris. The saleswoman assured me it was worth the 10 euro price tag. “It’s the very best. Black pig!” Well okay.

n     Then I couldn’t resist taking a counter seat at one of the fresh-fish grills to order a combo platter of mussels, clams, shrimp, tiny little octopi, razor clams and a fat sardine. The waiter let me taste both the house wine and something better… I opted for the something better and spent the next 45 minutes tackling the overflowing platter and chatting with other visitors.

n     Then it was time for a culture stop, so I went to the incredibly designed Palace of Catalan Music, bought a 27 euro ticket and treated myself to a four hour classical performance of a Moldavian orchestra playing Beethoven’s Ninth and then the Medieval-poetry-based work Carmina Burana. It was hard to know what to watch: the orchestra, the choir, the conductor or the astoundingly decorated concert hall;, with it’s Tiffany glass-like ceiling, giant carved horses with real leather reins and art nouveau style carved roses at every turn. Too bad that taking photos is not allowed inside the venue! But eating and drinking are, so at intermission I enjoyed a cold, crisp glass of Spanish cava and a tapas of smoked salmon and sweet onion on toast.

n      Afterward, I strolled around past the Picasso museum, alongside several  incredible looking churches and ended up back at the artists’ quarter I had visited the night before. Tonight there was an “important” soccer match involving the Barcelona team, so many eateries had empty seats. I opted for the Bodega La Palma, taking a seat at a round marble table next to a Danish couple enjoying a cheese platter and across from two Spanish women in an intense discussion of romance as they hoisted their pints of beer. I ordered a rioja wine and some small dishes: one was an eggplant puree toped with wild mushrooms and salty cheese. Another, called La Bomba, was a fist size ball of mashed potatoes and chopped roast beef, fried and slathered with a thick garlic sauce. I felt like I wished I had gone there with a whole group of friends so that we could order more different things and have a taste of each, but eating an entire La Bomba doesn’t leave room for much else!

n     I ordered a second, different wine and sat back to relax and mentally review my Barcelonan adventure. Did I have fun? Indeed. I found the city easy to navigate and the people friendly. Price were very reasonable compared to Paris.

n     Will I go back? What do you think?