Pictures were not permitted inside the building, which is really too bad because it is SO gorgeous. It seats over 2,000 people, but feels as intimate as a 100 person theater. I was surprised to learn that it was built in the similar manner of the Eiffel tower, with a great iron frame as its fundamental structure. The elaborate display of stained glass and mosaic tiles, made in various factories around Catalonia and then shipped to the site, were then placed on top; the building only took 3 years to construct! In regards to the music, the theatre hosts over 300 shows a year in every genre of music and dance except Opera. As we were sitting in the theater, the guide explains to us the significance of the Organ that has something like 4,000 pipes and was brought in from Germany. After its recent renovation, a computer program was installed so the organ could play automatically. Our guide then proceeds to pull out a clicker, press a button, and the Organ begins to play an elaborate song. Even I, a teenager who has grown up with all of these technological innovations and thinks nothing of them, was absolutely floored to see an Organ play a song with the same ease as when I open our garage door at home.After the tour, we set off in the direction of the Poble Espanyol. It was built for a World Exhibition, and is a relatively expansive community that shows the architecture and design of houses across the country.
Both Shelley and I purchased audio guides, which were a wonderful asset in understanding the significance of the architecture. There were also many shops selling the works of artisans, and also showing how they were made. I was fascinated by a glass blowing workshop where I could see the process of heating, cooling, and shaping a glass pitcher. The craftsmanship was fun to browse through, and the weather was just beautiful. It was also empty, which made for a very pleasant experience. I can only imagine that it looks a bit like Disney World during the summer season. In fact, everything we’ve done so far has been so nice because we haven’t had to wait in line for three hours, or fight through masses of people to catch a glimpse of Gaudi. And it’s still in the 50’s and sunny!We spent quite a few hours in the Poble, and then decided to check out a local flea market that was on the other side of the city. I think we came at the worst time because it was late afternoon and most people had already left or were packing up. What we did see was nothing to write home about. So, we got back on the metro and headed to the hostal. I was shocked, although I know I shouldn't be, as I witnessed the expertise of three pickpockets that were working their way along in the metro car. They had targeted a young girl standing across from me, who held a very large pocketbook and was listening to her iPod; she had no idea what was going on. I glared at the fellow who was about to dip his hand into her bag, and he immediatly retreated. I wasn't sure what to do though because I felt like if I pulled her, or her bag, towards me it would have created the ideal "distraction" for which they might steal something. So instead, I continued to glare and make it quite obvious that if they did anything I would personally rip their eyes out with a blunt spoon. I made eye contact with the girl and motioned for her to pull her bag close, and with that the theives got off at the next stop. Jerks. She was so thankful that I'd been watchful; I knew they hadn't stolen anything, but I hope she's more careful next time. I'd never actually seen pickpockets work, but now I understand how they work and how swift and horribly sneaky they can be. For that reason, I keep my money, passport, and credit cards in a money pouch that's around my neck and under my shirt at all times.
Anyways, on our way back we stumbled upon a fresh-food market that was tucked away off Las Ramblas. They had bowls of fresh fruit for sale that were so good and refreshing; that was the best dinner I’ve had in a while. As much as I love travel, I’ve never been a fan of always having to go out and find food in a foreign city. It’s just a lot of work, a lot of walking, and doesn’t strike me as an “adventure” as I’m sure some would argue. It’s also a bit of a challenge to make sure one is eating healthy and balanced, but I suppose that it’s all simply part of the traveling experience.
It was a decidedly quiet evening for the two of us, and the next morning we headed off to the Picasso Museum with the plans of catching an afternoon train to Valencia. The exhibit was very interesting in how it traced Picasso’s works from his early beginning in the late 1880’s, primitive sketches and such all the way through to his later Cubism era and ceramic innovation. I’d only really associated Picasso through his stereotypical portraits of strange-looking faces, but in fact the museum shows such a variety of his works that I walked away with a much more in-depth understanding of the artist than I had started the day with.
The train to Valencia was an incredibly simple affair—we bought our tickets, hung out in the station for an hour or so, boarded our train (which was on time) and then enjoyed the next 3 hours as we breezed down the coast. As I’ve said before, I love train travel because it allows you to really see the landscape—and in this case I was thoroughly enamored by the rocky cliffs and sandy beaches of the Spanish coastline. The ride is so smooth and quiet that you have to double check that there is indeed a boarding ticket in your pocket, and of course it was wonderful to arrive in the heart of Valencia’s city center. We were both pleasantly surprised that our hotel of choice had been recently renovated, and both modern and comfortable.
This evening we stopped by a small café that had great vibes, and chatted for quite some time over wine and a few tapas. Most restaurants here don’t open until 8:30 or 9pm, so we also had some time to kill before actually finding a place open for dinner. It worked out nicely though, as we moved from the cozy café to a Greek bistro down the block which had great food. We weren’t thrilled with eating Greek in Valencia, don’t get me wrong, but it was gooood. And so, here I am, very content and just about to head to bed. The good life, indeed.
It was a decidedly quiet evening for the two of us, and the next morning we headed off to the Picasso Museum with the plans of catching an afternoon train to Valencia. The exhibit was very interesting in how it traced Picasso’s works from his early beginning in the late 1880’s, primitive sketches and such all the way through to his later Cubism era and ceramic innovation. I’d only really associated Picasso through his stereotypical portraits of strange-looking faces, but in fact the museum shows such a variety of his works that I walked away with a much more in-depth understanding of the artist than I had started the day with.
The train to Valencia was an incredibly simple affair—we bought our tickets, hung out in the station for an hour or so, boarded our train (which was on time) and then enjoyed the next 3 hours as we breezed down the coast. As I’ve said before, I love train travel because it allows you to really see the landscape—and in this case I was thoroughly enamored by the rocky cliffs and sandy beaches of the Spanish coastline. The ride is so smooth and quiet that you have to double check that there is indeed a boarding ticket in your pocket, and of course it was wonderful to arrive in the heart of Valencia’s city center. We were both pleasantly surprised that our hotel of choice had been recently renovated, and both modern and comfortable.
This evening we stopped by a small café that had great vibes, and chatted for quite some time over wine and a few tapas. Most restaurants here don’t open until 8:30 or 9pm, so we also had some time to kill before actually finding a place open for dinner. It worked out nicely though, as we moved from the cozy café to a Greek bistro down the block which had great food. We weren’t thrilled with eating Greek in Valencia, don’t get me wrong, but it was gooood. And so, here I am, very content and just about to head to bed. The good life, indeed.
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