A Little Slice of Barcelona

Rebajas, Rebajas...... the sale signs are everywhere and there is plenty of buying going around. Spain is doing well economically and it shows it with all the construction, spending power and vacationing of its citizens, and it´s foreign investments. There also has being a sudden influx of illegal workers in the past five years, in particular, the black Africans. As in Italy, it´s usually the Africans selling the fake ¨I make you a very good price¨ sunglasses, watches or handbags. These items are typically on a bedsheet and you always know when the police are nearby, as you see the illegals walking away with all the goods quickly bundled up in the sheet and carried by hand, behind their backs. The African illegals usually cross over to Spain (then the rest of Europe) through Morrocco from Ceuta or Melilla or by small boats to the Canary Islands from Mauritania and Sengal, and then a ship to Spain as they are technically already in the country. Once in, the Spanish government are at a lost of what to do as they do not know which country to deport them to, whether that country will accept them, or where and how long they are to remain in refugee camps as everyday, there are new arrivals. The EU really has yet to resolve this issue depsite a recent meeting in Morrocco. I was told there are underlying racial tensions towards the Africans and Morroccans in Spain but I have yet to see any outright racism.

I have noticed since my last visit in Barcelona, there are definitely more asian restaurants (although curry has yet to make an impact in the Spanish palate but they do like sushi), supermercados stocked by Bengalis, a Latino Quarter in Poble Sec of mostly Ecudorians and Columbians with it´s very own gang, the ¨Latino Kings,¨ almost all the sovenior shops along Las Ramblas is run by East Indians and Chinese guys cooking in Italian restaurants !!!!! Barcelona is changing but it´s people still proudly identify themselves as ¨Catalans¨. In some ways, it´s a bit like Quebec in Canada, although General Franco was definitely more heavy handed here and in the Basque area.

Last July 18 marked the 70th anniversary of the start of the Spanish Civil War. From what I could gather, General Franco was in Morroco at the time when the Nationalists with the backing of the military and Fascist Germany and Italy rose up against the newly elected left-wing Republicans who was eventually backed by the Russians and individuals from the International Brigade like Hemingway. This war marked the first use of heavy aerial bombardment on civilian areas. The Catalan father I´m staying with recalled the civil war began when he was seven years old and he remembered the buildings infront and behind his home being shelled by a ship trying to destroy an automobile plant nearby. The southern part of Spain was quickly taken over and the Catalan father remembered General Franco marching his troops into the city and immediately installed its´ own police and outlawed the Catalan language. Anyone caught speaking Catalan or hanging the Catalan flag was sent to jail. Franco´s dictatorship suprisingly lasted until his death in 1975 and in the 1950´s and 1960´s, Spain isolated from the rest of Europe and it´s economy in shambles, discovered the potential of making hard cash from tourism. Yes, Spain advertised as rural and different, was in large part kept afloat by tourist bucks and package vacations. Now, where are the fake Armani sunglasses again.

Often during festivals in Catalunya, they have a tradition of ¨Castellers¨ or human castles. Basically, it´s people in groups of two, three or four standing on top a huge base of people, and then five, six, or seven persons standing on top of one another. The music signals the beginning of the building as the people on the bottom can not really see what is going on. When they hear the music, they know it´s starting as people and kids begin climbing up along this human ladder. Once the final child climbs on top and quickly waves (as I suspect he or she wants to get down as fast as possible), the music changes and everyone knows the ¨building¨is starting to be dismantled. Quite a bit of balancing and team work, and some of the castellers have been known to fall apart and the people on top tend to fall down on the human base.

When there was an announcement made to the crowd to see if anyone wanted to join, I, of course being a tourist had no choice but to jump in the fun and help build the base. Essentially, I ended getting squished between two large sweaty guys as we held the bottom part together and at that point, there really was no getting out. Yes, there´s nothing like the feeling of being cultured (and needing a shower in the process).

The Spanish lessons started on Monday and there are only two other students at the beginner level. One is a nineteen year old Pakistani who is homesick for his family and girlfriend, and the other is retiree from New Zealand. The school is organizing salsa lessons tomorrow night, I´ll try not to step on any feet. The dancing bear is back.

Motorcycles and Pit Stops

When I first started this trip, I would never have imagined that I would be walking around a 24-hour relay motorcycle race. The timing was just right for us to watch the race last weekend. That´s the great thing about traveling, you never know what is really just around the corner. People in Barcelona love their motorbikes and the good ol´Vaspas. By far, the most popular are the BMWs and then the Hondas. Some of the BMWs are equipped with a head cover, full windshield and wipers.


The Catalan´s family youngest son is a head mechanic for Harley Davidson in South Spain and was helping to promote the company by showcasing a dragster type of Harley. Apparently, only 180 of them were ever built. Harley Davidson motorcycles are still a novelty here in Europe and as far as I can tell, the biker image has not really caught on here.


I ended walking and poking around the pit stops with the father as the mechanics were busy fueling and fine tuning the race bikes, and scrambing around adding the decals and tinkering here and there. I got in a few media and team shots and just sneaked in behind the official photograhers to take a snap. I never knew the riders lined up along the side of track and actually ran to their motorbikes at the start of the race and then take off. It´s a really nice way to start. Man, do they take off and it´s almost impossible to take a photo as they zoom by. Good thing I have a digital camera. Hello delete button.


There are plenty of spanish schools here in Barcelona and I´m trying to figure the one that fits for me. I am planning to pay for a two-week 4 hours a day course today, starting next monday. This is probably the best way to learn as the father I´m staying knows some English but when he gets excited or wants to really to explain something, reverts back to Spanish or Catalan. I am also trying to arrange for some conversational practice with locals. I think the father secretly would prefer I learn Catalan and insisted that all the different regional languages of Spain is essentially Espanol. From Galicia to Basque to Catalan. And what I really want to learn is Castille.

Off to the market place to but some fresh vegetables and meat. I´m thinking about making a roast chicken and salad later. I don´t think they bargain for prices here and I´m curious what are the common spices here and what Saffron goes for. Adios.

Bring on the Jamon, Jamon !!!!!!

I simply love this country. It probably also has the best cured ham you will ever taste. A deep rich red meat, slightly salty and full of glorious flavor. Whether it´s a hind quarter hanging in a busy market, thinly sliced in a deli shop, or served in between fresh bread or with a cut melon, ¨Jamon¨ or in Catalan, ¨Pernil¨ is everywhere and well-loved here.

I arrived in Barcelona three days ago and have been staying with a great Catalan family whom I initially visited twelve years ago when I first travelled. Sadly, the mother passed away a few years ago. My first impression of her was asking if I wanted to stay in their home, having only met her son once through a friend a number of years ago. Being Chinese, my first instinct was to refuse but after traveling for four months and sleeping in hostels, trains and bus shelters, I was getting a little tired of the transitory lifestyle. I broke down and told her ¨Yes, very much so.¨ Then the next statement she made was ¨Give me your clothes to wash!¨I was quite overwhelmed by her hospitality and spontaneously hugged her.

As I backpack, my mantra for clothes is ¨reduce, recycle, reuse¨ and let´s just say if it doesn´t stink to me, it´s still clean and technically, underwear has four sides. Plus, the clothes is never really clean when you handwash and is often unpleasantly damp when I pack it up to leave the next day. Yes, clean clothes is a luxury.

After staying with this wonderful family, I have always associated Siestas with `Familia´. During my first visit, the mom would go out every morning to the market in preparation of the main meal at lunch. All the children and their spouses would come from across the city to eat together. It would take around two hours and consists of four or five courses of often simple, hearty dishes of soup, pasta, chicken, salad and coffee. The next course would not start until the last person had finished the present one. Conversation and laughter would help season the dishes and there didn´t seem to be a rush to get lunch over with (like it was some kind of chore to keep your stomach quiet). This beautiful ritual happened everyday and I fondly remember them now. By the way, the locals do not butter their bread in Catalunya but instead rub a ripe tomato and add olive oil to moisten their bread.

When I return to a place I like, I am often disappointed. ¨You can never go home¨ as the saying goes. But in this case, Barcelonia is as beautiful, exciting and enchanting as my first visit. Gaudi´s Sagrada Familia Cathedral started in 1882 is a little more complete then I recall, with it´s oraganic looking pinnacles jutting into sky, though I suspect it will not be fully built until the next century. Then there´s of course, Las Ramblas, the famous pederstrain boulvevard where you can stroll from flower sellers to street performers or watch dancers or human statues, or buy a pet fish or bird all in one go, all the while absorbing the hum and flow of tourists, locals, lovers, buskers and pick pockets. Walk over to Placa Reial for something cold to drink and people watching and hear an accordian or guitar being played or head to the port and beach if your heart is so inclined.

The appreciation of art, in all forms is one of the great things I love about this country. There are still plenty of modern art being constructed and concerts and plays to attend. There are also plenty of festivals to enjoy throughout the summer and each barrio holds street parties with the music playing well into the night. I ran it one past midnight with music blaring in a square surrounded by apartments and children, elderly, families, teens, adults, etc. all listening and dancing, and enjoying the night.

I am planning to stay in Barcelona for three weeks to look into taking Spanish classes. Have a great afternoon wherever you are.

Espana Es Mi Encanta !!!!!

Took the plane from Milan this morning and arrived in Valencia, Spain at around 2:00. Milan was the least favorite city that I visited and to me was just another big, sprawling metropolis, except that it many expensive clothing stores that would blow my budget for a month. $135 Euros for orange or pink jeans!!! Yikes, I´ll pass.

I have not been to Spain for over ten years and when we landed all the shops were closed for siesta and I settled in for long, relaxing lunch, listening to the locals chat in Spanish. It´s real good to be back. I love the pace of life here and their attitude towards. I always had a fondness for Spain in my heart. I found Valencia to be a much more pleasant city than I had anticipated and I plan to go by the beach later to eat some paella. The two Spanards sitting beside me on the plane recommended Arroz Negro and Arroz Conejo (rabbit). Arroz Negro is literally black rice and is paella that is cooked with squid and the blackness is cooking rice in squid ink. The old city here with it´s churches, parks and museums is great to walk around. They even like their drinks cold here and don´t look shock when I ask for ice, go figure. Bon Appetite.

Cup Crazy in Italia

The chant of "Italia" and the soccer theme song could be heard well into the night in Venice. Team Italia... World Cup Campions of 2006!!!! The Italians at Santa Maria Luca Compos square were screaming and gesturing obscenities at the TV after Zidane's hot headed hit on the Italian player. Then the cheering when Zidane was red carded. Everyone was staring in anticipation at the TV screen when the game went into a shoot out.

With every goal and the missed French shot, the Italians jumped out of their chairs, yelling screams of "Bella, bella" and "Bravo". When the Italians scored the fifth goal and Italy had taken the cup, the square exploded with cheers, hugs, dancing, and beer splashing everywhere. People were diving into the canals and as there are no cars or scooters allowed in Venice, groups of people were marching and chanting around the streets and boats full of people were going by waving flags and singing.

As for Venice... first, accept the fact you are going to get lost and second, it's crowded with every kind of tourist. Then discard the map and simply enjoy wandering around the windy lanes, bridges over canals and the occasional gondola and Broque buildings. Soak in the atmosphere. No, the water did not stink for me when I went and yes, St. Marcos Square was packed. Walking along the canals at night is special. Venice is expensive and now in the summer heavy booked. A ride on a gondola is going to set you back 100 Euros (needless to say, I used the land gondola, aka I walked everywhere) and food (which is not very good) and internet is double what you pay normally. Just a ride on the water taxi or ferry is 5 Euros for one way.

I've noticed in Italy, the locals drink coffee like they answer their phones, "Pronto." Real quick, usually standing up and the concept of talking over sipping coffee has not caught on here. The Italians, especially the women also love wearing big sunglasses. The bigger the better except you really get racoon eyes or you have to wear them ontop of your head in the sun. Ah... the price of fashion! I also noticed signal lights don't apply to you if you ride a scooter and.... I have to resist this incredible urge to use my hands when I speak or hear Italian. Keep well, I'm of to Milan to catch a plane and was in lovely Verona. This beautiful, clean pink and sand colored city has it's own Colosium and river. There's not too many tourist and it known for Romero and Juliet. I highly recommend a visit here if you have time.

Mama Roma and Firenze

I am in Firenze (Florence) and planning to catch the morning train to Venice after mass at the Duomo. The famous church here that the architect, Brunelleschi designed and brought the process of making a dome back in architecture from antiquity after the way was lost for several hundred years. If you are in Florence, you can not miss it as it makes for an excellent landmark. Florence is pleasant walkable city along the Arno River and most of the major sites are conveniently close together. In a weird way I do kind of miss the honking scooters criss crossing the lanes and streets as it seems much more ordered here. There is also a great simple and honest eatary or should I say Trattoria called Marios (unlike some of the Rome restaurants that charge you for service and then stiff you by charging you additionally for the use of cutlery and plates)and I had this monster Florintine steak the size of my head and delicious "el dante" pasta. The locals know and it has gotten quite a few write ups in cooking magazines.

As for Rome... what can I say. It's like you are walking around the streets looking for supermarket and suddenly you turn the block and there's the colosium. Mama Roma is there to embrace you and take you in!!! Rome is really two cities to explore. First, the ancient Roman archeological and Renaissance sights with it's 2000 year old roman squares and buildings and beautiful fountains abound and piazzas suddenly pop up. There's a great gelato place called San Crispino where I recommend the grapefruit and honey flavors. The grapefruit flavor was what you imagine grapefruit should taste like without the tartiness while the signature flavor was the Italian white ice cream with a hint of honey. A lingering aftertaste of sweetness. Oh yeah, the Pantheon and Trevi Fountain are amazing.

Second, there is Vtican city. Endure the crowds to the Vatican Museum and see the beautiful artwork and the interesting Enthnological floor with Asian religion and the missionary work in these countries. St. Peter's Basilica is beautiful and the view from the dome of Piazza Di San Pietro is a must after the long climb up.

There are great cool fountains everywhere and all the bus stops have there statiosn marked. My only quibble is the metro and bus system shuts down way to early. 11 pm for the Metro in a major city. The buses are overcrowded and for a city so spread out. Off to Venice...

Pass the Pasta

Just about to leave Napoli (Naples) to Rome by train. I love Italy and all the frantic energy the people and culture seem to have. The ferry ride was pleasant from Duressi, Albania and when I woke up, I was in Bari, Italy and could tell I was in another country. I have been trying to practice some the hand motion communication used here and the women really dress well and walk around with a sassy, confident swagger.

Bari was a clean city port but Napoli has a feel of vibrant energy among its narrow cobbled stone pedestran walkways with overhanging laundry, dimlit coves and piazzas, and scooters buzzing in and out (even along pedestrain only walkways or sidewalks). Despite the garbage, edgy and shaddy feel of the city and poor reputation for petty theft, I loved the city. Unfortunately, the Japanese guy I was travelling got his camera damaged after a scooter attempted to take it from him and knocked him down instead. You really have to watch yourself in this city.

Napoli has a harbour and history, and close to Pompei which was a lot bigger than I had thought with several acres of old building and courtyards, and ancient roadways. You can also view the deceased citizens of Pompei encased in ash fallen from the nearby Mt Vesuvio. Napoli also probably has the best pizza I have ever tasted. A simple margarita of tomato, olive oil, cheese and basil on thin pizza fresh from the oven from a pizzaria from the 1870s is just heaven. Simple, pure and tasty.

The Italians are going crazy over World Cup. Last night we had to walk for about two hours as the metro and bus were not running as the Italian celebrated by waving the flags in their scooters and cars, groups of overjoyed fans yelling in the streets, pipe bombs occasionaly going off, fireworks and flares lit, and impromto dancing. Crazy mayhem as the streets were still packed with cars and scotters were honking and people out when we slept at 2:00 a.m.

Off to get a gelato....

Bunkers in Albania

It seems Albania is yet another country in the Balkans that was governed by a commie dictator. In this case, Enver Hoxha who allied himself first with Russia and then with China later. Albania was never taken over by the Soviets and in fact freed itself from the Nazis through it's partisan fighters and the People's Republic of Albania was proclaimed shortly after the war. If you ever come to Albania, you are going to see alot of these concrete and iron bunkers with slits dotting the entire country. Hoxha was a bit paranoid of the West, Russians, Greeks, Turks, and just about everybody else except for his mother. I spoke to an Albanian who recalled Hoxha would tell lies about the outside world, in an attempt to isolate the country and would arrest anyone caught listening or watching Italian TV or radio. So Hoxha had his engineer design these mushroom shaped bunkers and then stand in it while a tank blasted it and since he didn't die, Hoxha ordered to build about 700 000 of them of varying sizes from 1950 until his death in 1985. Nutty but almost impossible to get rid of. So they just sit empty now in everywhere. You'll look out the window and pass some farmer's corn field and out pops this bunker, or walking along a beach and sure enough a bunker is there.

I'm in the capital city of Tirana now and just about to go Durres to take the ferry to Italy. It's not a bad city and easy to get around, relatively small and dusty. There's some Italian influence but nothing really special to see. There is a disportional number of luxury cars in here, BMW, Audi and espeically Mercedes. I swear there is a ratio of one Mercedes for every three cars !!! I have yet to see a car dealership. Apparently, Albania has a thriving black market for stolen cars and you can pick up a new(ly stolen)Mercedes for about 9000 Euros.

I heard bad about the Roma people here too and they continue to be ones here collecting or sorting through the garbage, begging or sweeping the streets late at night here.

Hope all is well and too bad about Brazil Footbul team losing last night.