The flipside of holidays

Today, Barcelona put us to the test. Footsore, hot and tired we ventured forth on an expedition. The first thing on the agenda was not Gaudi, Picasso, George Orwell, a gallery or museum. It was a trek to the car hire office. I didn’t cry, but not because I didn’t feel like it: hot, uncomfortable, footsore and weary. Of course, our travels were in vain; they had run out of cars. These are the things that the flip side of holidays are made of.

It did give us the chance to see he really elegant business/banking sector of the town and it was pretty. I did get a packet of siliconia curitas for the ampollas on my pieds. Debbie was feeling left out, so she is now complaining about her feet as well. (Don’t listen to her, save all your symathy for me.)

We did make our way through the Gothic distirct. I even got to see the Catalan dancing outside the cathedral. It is really funny. Lots of people gather to do it. They are all very straight-faced and thoughly Catalonian. They gather in a circles of about 20-30 people and hold hands. They wear lovely little runners or ballet slippers that do up with criss cross ribbons. (yes even the men) It seems a democratic affair with young and very old all joining in. One person in each group makes the call as to what to do next. There is much gentle pointing of toes and it all seems quite restrained. As the band moves through the paces, the dance becomes more enthusiastic and the movements become bigger. At certain points, the arms were all raised to shoulder height, then up above the head. Tourists stand around and try to mimic the steps, but we have not been inducted into the process, thus our participation is limited to throwing coins into the tray of the grandma who goes around and collects the money. I am not sure if the dance has religious meaning, but I think it does.

The streets of Barcelona are cram packed with people doing their bit to help turn around the economy. It was the first day of the sale season and every shop has a discount. From our vantage point, Spain has the usual four seasons, plus an extra one. Sale season is apparently responsible for the fact the most of the hotels in central Barcelona are booked out. It is all shopping bags and girls on mobile phones and bored men waiting it out. There is colour aplenty and lots of fun designs.

Here is the maths for the day. A fan from a street vendor usually costs about 2.50 euro. Greta got a plastic/bamboo fan imported from China at a bargain price. Debbie got a wooden framed, silk lace, hand painted Spanish original. Any guesses?