Tag Archives: Barcelona

Graduation Weekend

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Recently, I left town to attend my daughter’s college graduation. A milestone in her life and mine.

Luckily, despite all my parenting, she did everything right. For starters, she studied way harder than I ever did when I was a student. Applying herself, strategically planning her course schedule, focusing on everything she needed to do for her Economics major, and participating in extra-curricular activities, including becoming co-president of the Undergraduate Economics Society. And of course, last summer she did a study abroad program in Barcelona.

Whereas, I can’t tell you how many classes I cut during my four years in college. Nor, how many all-nighter’s I pulled–sometimes studying, and sometimes just to play countless rounds of Bid Wisp. Lord knows how many times I just managed to scrape by. Physics 101 is a prime example of this.

Frankly, it’s a miracle I graduated at all, leaving college with no plan except the knowledge that I liked to write. And, because of that, I went on to pursue a Master’s in Journalism. Anything to avoid entering the workplace, right? Meanwhile, my daughter graduated knowing she had long ago lined up a job in her field.

I’m sure you can imagine just how proud I am of her and all her accomplishments.

Well, it rained the weekend of her graduation. And, sometimes it just poured. Practically the entire time, if you ask me. Despite the inclement weather, we made the most of it, and had a grand time. And, if there’s anything you know about me by now, it’s my delight in taking pictures. Here’s a sampling of graduation weekend:

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The skies were gray and everything was damp. I think the following photos pretty much capture it. But they also capture the lush beauty of the campus. How serene and bejeweled by nature it appears. So peaceful it was to amble through its many paths, and so much splendor to take in.

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One look at this building and you know where the expression, the halls of ivy, came from:DSCN7118

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It rained while we waited for the students to take their seats, but once they did, the rain miraculously stopped and didn’t resume until the ceremony was over.DSCN7179

A sea of purple. Can you spot my daughter? Hint: She’s smiling at me.

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I got a chuckle out of seeing the school photographer, who appeared out of place in his shorts.DSCN7235

And one more. I couldn’t help myself in taking this last photo. After all, I absolutely adore seeing the natural beauty of flowers!DSCN7325

In case you’re interested, I’ve attached a video of the keynote speaker, Mikail Baryshnikov. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what a renowned dancer would have to say to graduates, but it was a good speech and gave us all lots to consider.

The Land that Gaudí Built

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Park Güell: Have you ever seen a park more whimsical?

Barcelona! Or, as I like to think of it, the land that Gaudí built.

Barcelona was a good place to start my trip, because, if you ask me, going to Europe is like going for a swim in the ocean. You want to ease in slowly and acclimate yourself to the temperature before jumping all the way in.

And, what better place to do that, than in a locale where you actually speak and understand the language? I’m not talking about Catalan, which was fascinating to hear. I’m talking Spanish, of course.

I can’t tell you how helpful it’s been all my life, to know more than one language.  Considering I live in San Diego, and along the US-Mexico border, it’s downright fortuitous that my Venezuelan parents had the foresight to speak to me in their native language. That, plus the fact that I spent some of my youth living in Caracas, sealed the deal, making me, more or less, fluent.

Antoni Gaudí incorporates his love of nature into the design of Park Güell.

Barcelona proved to be an exciting, cosmopolitan city, one that has the most amazing architecture, thanks to the work of Antoni Gaudí, whose name is probably synonymous with the city. We visited some of Gaudí’s most significant works, La Sagrada Familia, Park Güell, and Casa Batlló. I loved them all, but, of the three, my favorite was the park.

Gaudí has a distinct style that is whimsical, colorful and embraces curves all at once. He works with tile in such a bold way that it takes your breath away. His work is a joy to behold. Plus, admission to the park is free and boasts stunning views of the city.

This dragon at the entrance of Park Güell is a popular spot for a photo opp.

Every city I’ve ever visited in Europe has its charm and beauty in terms of its rich art and architecture. But, the structure that nearly made me have a case of the vapors, and brought me to a new height of euphoria, was the Palau de la Música Catalana.

Built in the early 1900’s by architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner, I have never seen a more exquisite and dazzling building, both inside and out. Every corner, every column, every speck of space your eye can rest upon–from floor to ceiling–had something unique and

Casa Batlló, commissioned as a private residence.

mesmerizing to take in. This was a building that captured my heart and soul, as no other building ever has. A celebration of Art Nouveau, it is the only concert facility listed as a World Heritage site.

If you have never seen it firsthand, do not wait a second more. Add it to your bucket list. Better yet, pack your bags and go at once!

Luckily, I brought along my trusty camera,  taking well over 2,000 photos throughout my trip. I wanted to document every nook and cranny of each place we visited. I was on a mission to see it all and capture it all for posterity.  Uploading all these photos was almost the end of my computer.  Choosing which to post here, was almost the end of me.  So, I hope you enjoy my photos, and, if you want to see them all, I’ll be hosting a slideshow at my place every night between now and New Year’s Eve. By then, surely, we will have seen all my photos! And, now, without further adieu, Barcelona!

Gaudí’s La Sagrada Familia, under construction for over a century.

Detail of La Sagrada Familia.

Exterior of Palau de la Música Catalana, a building that is an homage to music and that bursts forth with magnificent splendor.

Check out the stage inside the Palau de la Música Catalana.

A cafe inside the Palau.

The Palau’s skylight.

The staircase in the Palau reminds me of the staircase in the film, “Titanic.” I”m just saying.

Europe’s population is estimated at 731 million, but if you included all the statues you’d probably have to double that figure. Oh, and I just love statues!

And One More…

I was struck by the charm of this statue, and the way it expresses the innocence and serenity of childhood.

Four Cities, Three Gals, Two Weeks

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Four cities, 14 days. Three gals on a journey of a lifetime.

Did I have what it takes to make the most of it all? Was I ready for the time of my life? And, when all was said and done, did any of the cities we visited become my favorite?

If you ask me, Henry was on to me and my imminent departure. I think he had an allergy flareup as a way to get me to stay. The fiend!

Yes, yes. and heck, yes!

Being an honorary Girl Scout, I was ready. My ducks were all in a row. Indeed, having started planning this trip months in advance, I prepared and trained for this European vacation with the utmost precision, one befitting well, um, Captain Von Trapp, whistle and all. I kept countless lists of all I would need to do prior to departure. Passport? Copy of passport? Check and check!

I was determined that nothing would go wrong. I paid all my bills in advance. I arranged for a friend to water the plants in my patio. I even made a trip to my local Target store to purchase the necessary toiletries, making sure all were under three ounces.

Not wanting to leave any stone unturned, I asked a number of friends for advice on traveling abroad. (Thanks, Ashley, Trisha, Christine, Bella, Susan and Clare!)

I left a copy of my itinerary with my son (who never even looked at it!), along with thorough instructions on the care and keeping of Henry. I also contacted Henry’s vet to let his office know, that in the event of any unforeseen mishap, my son would have the authority to make all decisions on Henry’s behalf. I then gave them my credit card number, in case of emergency expenses.

My daughter (seen here at Park Güell) was climbing the walls, having already spent six weeks in Barcelona by the time I arrived. Just kidding. She loved it there!

I also made sure my trust was in order, and then proceeded to get all weepy as I told my son where I keep all the important documents, in the event of, well, anything. Of course, I reminded him of my desire to be cremated, in the event that my plane didn’t make it across the pond. After all, I found it unfathomable that a plane could make a ten-hour journey without stopping for gasoline! My son, the compassionate soul that he is, just stared blankly at me and shrugged.

Then, I did what every traveler does prior to departure. I packed, keeping in mind what my daughter, who was already in a Barcelona study abroad program, advised. Pack lightly! A daunting task, if you ask me, given I am fond of having all the comforts of home wherever I go.

To save space in my suitcase, my friend, Susan, said she’d heard that some people pack just two pairs of underwear and alternate. At first, I wondered, exactly how much space does underwear take, that I should only pack two? I assumed what she’d heard, but didn’t mention, was to pack two pairs and wear the other 12 on the plane. Not the most comfortable way to travel, mind you, but I was up for the challenge.

When the day came to board the plane, I was ready. Which is when Henry had an unexpected bout with allergies (clearly, he was allergic to my impending departure), and I had to make the decision whether to take him to the vet and hope they’d see him without an appointment (he’s Henry, after all!), which could have the potential of leaving me with barely enough time to go through security and board the plane. Or, I could leave it to my son to handle once he dropped me off at the airport. I chose the latter.

Six days later (well, actually, 24 hours later but it sure felt like six days!), I arrived at my first destination: the London Heathrow Airport, which was all abuzz with Olympic fever, and where I spent every minute of a two-hour layover maneuvering my way through the maze, the crowds, the security, etc, in order to get from one gate to the next.

The view from atop Park Güell, one of Gaudi’s finest achievements.

And, before you could say, “Bob’s your uncle,” I was headed to Barcelona–exhausted and damp with perspiration–to meet my daughter and a friend she had met through her study abroad program, who would be traveling with us.

Together, the three of us would leave Barcelona and traipse across Europe. And, by Europe, I mean Vienna, Salzburg and Prague, all cities rich with history and chocolate. Yes, the world was our oyster–and we had lots of ground to cover!

But first, there was the matter of ice.

Turns out, I love ice. Have a thing for it, really. But, ice could be the very thing that separates Americans from the Europeans. The line in the sand, if you will. And, the lack of it had the potential to cause an international incident.

For, like Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz, it suddenly dawned on me that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. And, by Kansas I mean, the USA. But, I’ll tell you about it in my next post.

Did all my planning guarantee nothing would go wrong? And, what was my favorite city?

Well, all will soon be revealed.
In the meantime, tell me. How do you prepare for a long trip?

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Euro Traveller Extraordinaire

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Guess who’s back?

It’s me!

Actually, I’m writing this as I make the last leg of my trip, and I’m heading home! After all, after weeks of traveling, home is where the heart is. Home is where I hang my hat.

This is a chocolate waffle concoction, served with gelato, from a little shop in Barcelona.

And, as it turns out, I’m a Euro Traveller! At least, that’s what British Airways called me as I  traveled within the European continent. By that, I assumed they meant that I carried lots of Euros with me. Which, technically, I did not!

Though, I did start out with plenty of euros at the beginning of my journey, but all those pretty postcards, and bookmarks did add up and I just had to have that adorable little mosaic-sculpted owl from Barcelona (so reminiscent of Gaudi, after all). That owl is sure to look perfect in my ever-growing owl collection.

A slice of Sacher Torte from the Sacher Hotel in Vienna, where the dessert was invented.

Then, there were the pair of Italian shoes, a genuine leather purse for my daughter, a couple of tote bags with the names of the cities we were visiting emblazoned on them, a picture book of the Palau de la Musica Catalana in Barcelona–the most visually stunning architectural achievement ever created, if you ask me. Not to mention all the meals–croissants, meats, seafood, bottles of “still” water, Sacher tortes—along with public transportation fees, water closet fees, and one delightfully bouncing wooden bumble bee on a spring coil, which I couldn’t resist, and refuse to discuss further.

And, of course there were the chocolates. Ah, chocolate!

As English comedienne Jo Brand once said, “Anything is good if it’s made of chocolate.”

And, she should know. She’s from the continent that specializes in all things chocolate. If you ask me, if there’s one thing Europeans know how to make, it’s chocolate. In America, we eat chocolate that can’t hold a candle to its European counterpart. Much of ours seems to be a blander version of their chocolate, and, frankly, I wonder if you can legally call what the big candy companies in the states sell here, chocolate, particularly when it has so many other ingredients, such as emulsifiers, artificial flavors and the like.

Even the European version of the popular American candy, Kit Kat, tastes better. Tres chocolatey, if you ask me. Those Europeans take their chocolate seriously and accept no substitutions in their ingredients.

Which is why our suitcases were stocked with chocolate to last us the coming year. Chocolate bars,

From a chocolate shop in Salzburg.

biscuits, fudge, truffles, cookies, bark, wafers, you name it. Dark, bitter, semisweet, milk, fondant, and even my least favorite, white. All the colors of the chocolate rainbow. And when it comes to chocolate with nuts, the nut of choice, hands down, is hazelnut.

Plus, chocolate makes great gifts for all my chocoholic friends. (There’s one with your name on it, Trisha!)

We procured so many chocolates while in Prague that it earned us two free passes to the Chocolate Museum, which was headed by a snappy Czech, looking rather Willy Wonkish in his big chef hat and white apron, and red ascot.

Which is why I don’t have any euros left, or, for that matter, korunas (which is the currency used in the Czech Republic), except for a few coins. I still have my American money, but, turns out, they’re useless in these parts, and not worth as much as the euro. I also have one pound, a leftover of my trip to London seven years ago, which I brought with me because I knew I’d have a stopover in London and perhaps have time to get a Summer Olympic souvenir.

In Prague, this Belgian waffle on a stick is served with either dark, milk or white chocolate.

So, British Airways may call me a Euro Traveller, but, as it turns out, all they really mean is that I’m traveling within the European continent, which I did twice. First, when I boarded a plane from London to Barcelona, and then another from Prague to London. Soon I’ll be boarding my flight back to the states. And, according to British Airways, that makes me a “World Traveller!”

I can’t wait to be officially back and regale you with stories of my adventures abroad, including my bizarro, Fawlty Towers experience, and my never-ending search for ice.

But let me unpack, and gather my bearings. Let’s hope jet lag doesn’t overtake me. Think of me as one of those astronauts who’s been away from the planet for an extended period and now must remain in a holding pattern before resuming life as I once knew it: Blogging away!

And while I’m busy, ahem, with these other matters, and sorting through the over 1,200 photos I took, I will resume reading your blogs and playing catch up wherever possible, and hoping you’ll forgive me if I miss a few.

All I need now is someone to pass me a shovel so I can unload all the chocolate from the suitcases. And, while I’m doing this, please take a moment to let me know what you’ve been up to, and please leave a link to any of your favorite posts that I may have missed while I was away.