I think I did Mr. Pep a disservice. His voice is not so much like Barry White’s, instead perhaps more like Richard Burton’s. Sorry, Pep.

Today we walked and walked and walked. We saw lots of Gaudi. We saw lots of cool buildings. We saw millions of French schoolchildren. We were going to take the tourist bus, the one that stops everywhere, but the lines were long. So we mostly walked. It is hard not to look like a tourist walking here – you want to keep looking up at the buildings, into the pastry shops, even down at the ground. Even the sidewalks are interesting here!

But, I must admit that I am getting tired. It’s been close to three weeks since we left, and I am feeling a bit weary. Tomorrow, we are entertaining – some Spanish friends of my mothers are coming into Barcelona to see us, so we are going to cook for them. Then Saturday, our last day, I just want to go to the park and drink wine and not think about getting anywhere.

Tonight we are going to hit some tapas places around the apartment – we may even go back to Cal Pep because last night, we went there to see what everyone was eating (which was mostly the same stuff we ate the night before) and we discovered a menu! So if we go back we will be prepared.

There is so much to see here in Barcelona. I need at least a month (but first I have to recover from this trip, before I think about that one.)

I wish I could be a professional traveler.

So, here we are in Barcelona. After Granada, which for the past couple of days has been a green and relaxing place of magic, with chirping birds and cherry blossoms flying through the air, I need to shift into big city mode again. We’ve walked a lot today and discovered, to my delight, a couple of great wine shops and a kick-ass cheese shop. Two cheeses (WHOLE cheeses, not hunks o?cheese) for 4 Euro! Good cheese too – a great mild goat cheese with pepper and a cylinder shaped Brie type cheese. I’ve already bought several bottles of wine causing my mom to have a furrowed brow… hmmm, how will we drink all that? Whatever we have left I will sneak onto the plane to drink on that longass journey home. We have been a bit shocked at the price of wine and tapas in the bars here so far. I think we got pretty spoiled. Which brings me to the point.

Cal Pep. This tapas bar/diner is in every tour book and also, has been written about plenty on internet sites I trust (like Chowhound and EGullet.) So, I was practically peeing my pants to go. So we went and were the first to get in. It was 8 P.M. They open the big metal door and everyone goes in and sits at a long counter that seats about 20 people I’d say. All the seats were immediately taken. Mr. Pep came over, and since I knew you just tell him if you want fish, or veggies or meat, I just said, “Pescado.” I didn’t even finish that one word before he shoots out this volley of words in whatever trippy language (Catalan? Basque?) AND in his ultra weird voice (a cross between Barry White and Mr. Magoo). So, we figure let’s just see what happens. First one of Pep’s helpers (and there are a few) pours red wine for mom and white for me, and the bottles remain – they will keep refilling as we drink. Then the food starts coming – rapid fire. First a couple of toasts with tomato (boring.) Then some fried artichokes. (Just OK.) Steamed clams. Tortilla, which was runny – I liked it but mom hated it. Fried fish. All the diners were being served rapid fire like this. It was like, McPeps. We were starving and ate fast, and all of a sudden we were done – in TWENTY FIVE MINUTES. Some diners left before us! And we were in and out in under thirty minutes.

This would have all been fine and good, but the bill was 32 Euro. We walked back home saying, what the hell was THAT?

When we left there were at least twenty people waiting to eat. I am not so sure Pep was asking us/telling us what to eat. I am thinking, Pep was saying:

“Ha HA! I have not seen you before. Suckers! I will give you the McExperience you are used to, but the Basque way! And for a nice price! Nice for ME! Ha HA!!!”

OR:

“Ha HA! I am needing to put a second wing on my beach house in (enter pricey Mediterraean town here). I think you will help me to pay! Suckahs!”

At any rate, it was fascinating to watch Pep and his crew working and all the diners snarfing everything down really fast.

Barcelona is fast, I am trying to catch up. Our apartment is fantastic – the owners have taken special care, I think it is the nicest vacation rental I have ever rented. We are on a cool street with lots of shops and bars. There are two Japanese restaurants on our block! Also, today something very special happened. I found LIME POPSICLE COLORED LUGGAGE. Sadly, I no longer need luggage. But I did buy a Lime Popsicle backpack, because it exists. I think Barcelona is one of those cities that has many of the things you have always been searching for. So, in the next three days I could be finding alot.

Granada, in the Spring! It is fantastic outside. Yesterday we walked up to the top of Albaicin where, in a little campo, a bunch of hippies and singing gypsies were hanging out. This is the Granada I love. The colorful plaza, the colors of the hippie clothes, the arab sounding flamenco from the gypsy singers, the snow covered Sierra Madres and the Alhambra in the distance. We are going back up there today.

I just bought acorn liqueur and chocolate covered figs. We are leaving for Barcelona tomorrow, and I have a serious problem, I have bought Too Much Stuff. Will work it out, I am sure.

Our trip is winding down and so is my time here at NavagaWeb. More from Barcelona…

Well color me shocked. It is Easter and I thought that after all the Processions and Masses and Religious stuff on the streets and on TV Spain would be locked up tight today, but everything seems to be open. We even laid in a bunch of supplies just so we would have plenty to eat and drink. We are cooking at home tonight – a vegetable stew that I make that is sort of an arabic ratatouille served over rice, jamon and melon, lots of Rioja, a crazy Easter cake that we bought in Toledo, it is a serpent twirled up into a circle, with candied fruit on top. Interestingly enough our Granada apartment is not really set up for too much cooking, but I am pretty good at working with whatever tools are at hand.

One thing our apartment DOES have that I love, love, love is a TV with mega-channels. We have MTV with German subtitles that is showing the Osbornes all weekend, BBC Primetime, Arab weather girls, and much more. There are a few Spanish movie channels that show American movies dubbed in Spanish. I watched Almost Famous the other night, and a little bit of Steel Magnolias and Roxanne yesterday. They sure got the Dolly Parton and Steve Martin voices wrong. We also have a couple of Arab stations that show American movies and even soap operas in English, with Arab subtitles. The only bad thing is that I am missing out on alot of bad Spanish TV because this other stuff is better. Although, all the Spanish TV is 24/7 coverage of the Semana Santa processions.

On to my next thought – ham. The Spanish love of ham is beyond any love of a specific meat I have ever seen. They even have ham flavored Ruffle potato chips called “Jamon Jamon.” They are soooo good. The first bite is overwhelmingly hammy. So you could really have your Easter dinner this way, the ham and the potato in one little salty package. We are trying to figure out how to get some Jamon Jamon Ruffles home.

Granada is lovely. There are alot of hippies here and much smoking of hashish and drinking of quarts of Cruzcampo beer in the plazas. We went to the Alhambra the first night, it sort of sucked. It was pouring rain and the combo of mega flashbulbs and loud talking in the very crowded Palace did not work in our favor. I wanted to scream “Basta!” the whole time. I wanted to use a people evaporator. We went back yesterday and it was not nearly as crowded, though the Spanish seem to have a serious thing about photographing themselves. I am glad we are not staying up there. Our neighborhood is near the Carrera del Darro, a very busy riverside street with lots of bars and cafes and hippie shops. At first I thought I was smelling incense but then I realized, it was something else entirely….

We are off to the Cathedral, where Isabel and Ferdinand are buried. Then for a walk around the Albaicin…

Ahhh, Cordoba… after the craziness of the train thing and the madness of the festa in Sevilla, we decided that we would take Cordoba slow, and spend lots of time walking slowly and sitting in cafes and stuff. Lucky for us, it is a perfect city for this. I love it here. Something in the air invigorates me. Cordoba is all white, heat and dust. Tourism and day to day life mingle well together here. I can walk slowly and breathe deeply. It is that kind of place.

There are Easter processions here also (as there are all over Andalucia and Spain.) I have learned the name of the religious floats, they are called Pasos. In Sevilla, you watch the procession from afar. In Cordoba, you are part of the procession. From our hotel, which is steps away from the Mezquita/Cathedral, we can hear the drums coming so we run out, and the procession passes. Then we go back to the hotel, until 10 minutes later we hear drums again. Yesterday the first Paso was accompanied by sober young soldiers who protect the Paso with machine guns pointed towards the sky. This was very moving to me in a way that I could never explain. It takes them a while to get the huge Paso around the tiny corner and when this is accomplished, everyone applauds. Last night we went to dinner, a large meal for us because Cordoba has so invigorated us that we can eat three courses after walking all day. During our dinner a Paso passed down the tiny street, and everyone, including a waiter with an offering of red carnations, runs out to see it pass. After we are done eating we leave and there is another Paso coming, this time the Madonna with a flowing cape and fresh white roses all around her. We cannot move and the Paso passes an inch from our heads. Then there is nothing to do but join the hundreds who are following the marching band and the Paso down the street. There are tiny kids, older people, everyone seems to be eating sunflower seeds and spitting out the shells. Too bad I just ate three courses because I love sunflower seeds.

We are in this procession for a long time, because the procession stops often, for someone singing a hymn from a balcony, or maybe because the guys carrying it need to rest. At first these long stops are OK; but after three we are ready to move. We duck up a side street and run smack into the long line of Nazarenes (people with cone heads and candles), this means there is another Paso coming. Somehow we know where we are going, and circle the old city completely, and coming back through the city walls there is another procession! They are everywhere.

Today is Thursday and most of the shops are closed, and will be tomorrow also. We are leaving for Granada tomorrow supplied with wine, olive paste, crackers, coffee, milk, and cookies, in case we cannot find an open store tomorrow. We will spend Good Friday Eve at the Alhambra, and relax on the terrace of our apartment on Easter…

Sunday was the first day of the week long festival Semana Santa here in Sevilla. On Sunday, the whole city was out, dressed in their very best clothes. This could be classy or tacky, depending on which side of the tracks you live on I guess. The bars and restaurants were packed, and for the first time since we got here I saw a few scam artists. All the streets were filled with wooden chairs to view the processions. We tried to get close to some of the processions but unless you had a ticket for one of the seats it was pretty hard. Also you are trying to get close with about 500,000 other people.

Besides religion and hanging out in the bars with your friends, this festival seems to be a time for young people to “hook up.” So, for the girls get a boyfriend, and for the boys, to try to get as close to sex as possible for an unmarried Catholic. I can group the festival goers into several groups.

Married Couples with Young Children Dressed up Like Dolls
Young People Who Have Been Hooked Up for a While (Holding hands.)
Young People Who Have Just Hooked Up (Swallowing each others tongue, butt grope-age)
Young People Looking to Hook Up (They travel in packs)
Old People (Also travel in packs, but mostly sit at cafe tables.)

Sunday was a big day. By 11 PM we were exhausted but I could hear the festival going until very early in the morning.

Yesterday (Monday) was a big quieter. We wandered all over and there were not many people out. (Recovering?) By the late afternoon though we could see hundreds of people coming in for the processions. I’ll try to explain the processions – there is something like a float, but guys are under it and lifting it. You cannot see the guys underneath. These are practically structures with life-like figures on them, candles, fresh flowers. When the men underneath walk it looks like the figures are walking, too. In front and back there are little kids and adults with the cone like hats in white, black, purple. There is a lot of incense and sometimes people carrying crosses. Behind each float there is a marching band. We saw one come straight out of the door of the big Cathedral here and that was pretty remarkable. Then I decided I wanted Albondigas from this bar I like (henceforth known as that fateful meatball.) So we started over and got caught up in a big crowd. We saw one float come towards us with Christ on the Cross. Then we got a bit further down the tiny street and could move no more. Then a procession went right by us on the tiny street. It was a Mary float. Totally wild. We then made it to the bar but the bar was too crowded and we could not get in to get my fateful meatball. In fact all the bars and cafes were totally packed and both Sunday and Monday we had to eat in touristy places in our neighborhood. But, they both had excellent food…

well I had better go because we are going to Cordoba and Mom will kill me if we don’t get to the train early. More from Cordoba…

Yesterday we woke up in Madrid worried and fretful. Now I hear there were extra trains and chartered busses but the only information we were getting was that all the trains, busses and rental cars were sold out. We packed and left the hotel early to go to the train station to try to get to Sevilla.

Before we left the room I said, “we ARE getting to Sevilla today.” I was hell bent that we would get on a train or a bus or SOMETHING.

We didn’t even get to the train station. We got into St. Augustine’s cab.

As soon as we got in and told him we were going to the train station he shook his head and said No Tickets. They had just reported it on the news. Bus? No Tickets. Nada. I asked my mom to ask him, how much for a taxi? Mom said, no that is impossible. But she asked and Augustine said 400 Euro. We sat for a second absorbing that information. Then he said he would do it for 350 Euro. Let’s go, we said.

We took a taxi from Madrid to Sevilla! 520 kilometers, five hours. After we subtract the refund from the train and the money we would have spent on an additional night at a Madrid hotel, we ended up paying around 75 Euro each for a taxi to take us across Spain. St. Augustine spent ten hours getting there and back. What a guy.

So now we are here in beautiful Sevilla. It is warm and sunny, and it is the first day of Semana Santa. The church bells have been ringing like crazy and the processions will start soon. It is so lovely here my heart hurts. Friday seems light years away.

Last night, we went to the El Arenal flamenco show, recommended by Doru and Colleen K. We were seated front center – I almost got taken out by a flying skirt. It was colorful and passionate and we couldn’t wipe the grins off our faces.

Thanks for all the comments here… The train incident was a frightening and surreal experience. The knowledge that we could have been on a train and… well, let’s just say I’m not going to worry about too much ice cream any more.

This place is glorious.

We are back in Madrid. Today, we got on our train and there was a delay, due to security reasons. Well the security reason was a bomb somewhere on the tracks. We were on the train for five hours. After three hours most people left but we found ourselves on the train with a group of about 15 Spaniards who refused to leave and also told us we could not leave. (Essentially.) The reason being if we get off the train we will never get to Sevilla. The police came and negotiators and it was totally bizarre. The passengers were refusing to leave and it was a big scene with much loud discussion by all parties at the same time. Eventually there was no hope and we got off the train and into Atocha station where all the people from all the trains were stranded too. One customer service person told us we could get on any train (assuming there will be a train) with our used ticket. Another told us no way. So, we are in Madrid. We don’t know when we can get to Sevilla because it is holy week and every train is sold out. This is why the Spainiards would not leave the train, because they are pretty sure there will be no way to get to Sevilla for awhile.

We did not know about the severity of the bomb scare and how close we were to being on a bombed train until we got to the hotel. It was on CNN… the bomb was on our track and there was a 12 o’clock train, and then us (the 1 o’clock.) So, even though this has been a hellish and freakish day we are just happy that we are not in a worse place right now.

Onward. We are going to go and eat some fried seafood and try to chill out a bit.

Question: How do you totally bore 175 Thirteen Year Olds?
Answer: Put them in a room full of El Grecos.

Here we are in Toledo. It is like Venice without canals or street signs. Impossible to navigate! Yesterday we got very lost. Today we saw most of the sights. We are the only tourists besides 1500 French adolescents on school trips. Mon Dieu! Walking down the tiny street you will suddenly come to a wall of kids. It rained more this morning than it does in a whole year in San Diego, and some of these kids reminded me of myself at thirteen with the really long flared pants soaking wet to the knee and the scraggly long hair.

Last night we went to a wine bar that was in the Rick Steves book (got it in a trade for my own book and actually it has come in pretty handy here) run by a guy with a really long name which I will post in my trip report. We got there at eight and he was telling us he only serves two to four people a night. We are thinking now, he only makes a profit on two to four people a night, because while we were there we had three glasses of wine each PLUS cheese, sausage, pate, olives… he kept putting stuff out, then he poured us each a half glass of cava and the total bill was 11 Euro! And there were at least eight other people there including a guy who kind of looked like Peter Sellers who was staring at us. I will write the details of this bar later, because it was a special little place and the proprietor was very passionate (he said he goes out every day all over Spain to inspect the grapes, all for US, he was sort of dramatic). We bought a bottle of wine that we tried there for 14 Euro, that we will enjoy in Sevilla.

We are going to the Parador after I finish here to check out the view from across the river and tomorrow we head to Sevilla. I am praying for heat and sun because it has rained every day since we got here and I am a sun worshipper.

Tonight Miss Jaen is going to be on TV, to tell her side of the “Miss Espana contest was fixed” story. Later I will write about the Reality Show “Il Castillo” where Spanish TV Fortune Tellers get questioned by members of the clergy and a lady with a fucshia feather hat.

There is a huge uproar over the Miss Espana contest. Apparently some of the contestants got “special treatment.” I know because I was watching a sort of Jerry Springer show but instead of an ugly guy (Springer) there is a pretty girl trying to keep things in/out of order. There were three contestants on the show complaining in a loud and relentless manner. The director of the contest was on a telephone trying to defend himself. I guess some of the contestants got “private interviews.” Hmmm… wonder what went on in these private interviews? No wonder Miss Jaen smiled so much.

For lunch we had a tapa of chorizo at one bar and then some killer shrimps with garlic at another. This was on our way to the Thyssen Bornemisza museum, which is one of the coolest museums I have ever been to. The rain has not stopped but it seems a little warmer. I feel incredibly at home here. I think I need to move back to a city. Maybe this city!

Later I will write about the talk show where a porn star was being interviewed with a huge screen behind her, showing one of her movies. Dang.

Tonight we are tapas grazing tonight, on and around Cava Baja. I would be totally depressed leaving Madrid if I weren?t going to five other cities after this.

Manana… Toledo.