City Highlights

Barcelona, or Barca, as it’s often referred to, has been wonderful. Sunday night I went to Palau De La Musica for the Spanish Opera y Flamenco show, and it was fantastic! I had one of the box seats in the first balcony, so I was somewhat perpendicular to the stage and I leaned over the railing the whole show, eyes wide, completely mesmerized by their moves. It was sort of like Lord of the Dance - meets tap dancing - meets belly dancing - meets ballroom dancing...it was spectacular. The building itself was also a worthy sight, with lovely architecture in the Art Nouveau style. I wandered the very crowded night-time streets of Barca back to my hotel, with a spanish beat in my head.

Monday, I took the tour bus through Barca’s most famous sights - and in a nutshell, this is what I saw: We drove down Passeig de Gracia (famous street that’s very wide and has all the high end shopping - the place to be seen), saw the facades of some of Gaudi’s famous buildings in the middle of the busy city - Casa Battlo and Casa Mila (more on him in a moment) - which are completely perplexing and unbelievable, walked through Park Guell, toured Sagrada Familia (church in process), saw the Olympic Village, walked along the beach, waterfront, and old port, looked up at the Columbus Monument, drove up Montjuic to see the views of the city, the Olympic Stadium, and then visited Poble Espanyol (a Spanish Village).

A bit deconstructed now...
Passeig de Gracia is a very cool street - it’s tree-lined like La Rambla and it’s sidewalks are as wide as two lanes of traffic. It also boasts stores like Rolex, Burberry, Prada, Gucci, Diesel, H&M, and more. However, jammed in between designer labels and cafes, one of Gaudi’s notorious buildings is nestled on display. Case Battlo is a multicolored creation with a rooftop that’s reminiscent of the scaled-back of a dragon. And I hear - that’s exactly what his inspiration was.

Gaudi was unknown to me prior to stepping foot in Spain - so sorry architectural digest. However, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know him a bit better and he’s oh so fascinating. Antoni Gaudi was born in 1852 (near Barcelona), and he’s known for his futuristic designs and his integration of art nouveau with catalan modernism and the gothic art elements. His works are so original and so ‘out there’ that he’s left an unforgettable mark on the urban structure of Barcelona. He’s big on color, imaginative sculptural decoration, recycled materials (i.e., broken ceramic pieces from cups, plates, etc. for his mosaics), references to Catalan culture (dragons), nature, and religion. His vision could only ever be described as ‘out-of-the-box’ and completely original. I’m a huge fan.

Guell Park (named for the money man who footed the bill) is a lasting shrine to one of Gaudi’s loveliest works. Gaudi was commissioned to create an ideal town plan (in 1900) that promised a radically new way of life. The garden-city was created with it’s own roads throughout the park, ceramic mosaic benches and sculptures and waterfalls, a few houses, a town square...and more. And it failed. In the 1920’s when people were brought to look at the new development, like a model home, they couldn’t fathom living there - it was too wild, too unstable looking with all it’s curved architecture and whimsy. It never did fulfill its dream and Gaudi left it alone to focus on his most prominent contribution - Sagrada Familia. I thoroughly enjoyed the park - it’s a new party for the eyes around every corner, and one can’t help but feel like they got lost in some part of Disney’s magic kingdom...it’s a bit of fantasy in a huge park, in the middle of a big city.

Sagrada Familia - it’s a bit overwhelming. It’s considered Gaudi’s masterpiece. And it’s not finished yet. The first stone was laid in 1882 and he dedicated 43 years of his life to this work, the last 12 years, almost exclusively - even living in his workshop in the church, until his unexpected death in 1926 (he was hit by a tram). His artistic design of the church is so modern and futuristic that when one actually sees it, it seems impossible for it to be a church. But Gaudi was severly religious and his desire to symbolize the life of Christ is everywhere in his work. There are to be three monumental facades (2 currently built), 18 towers (12 dedicated to the apostles), the highest one dedicated to Jesus rising 170 meters, five isles in the interior, and every window with brightly shining stained glass. Work has been nonstop for the last 80 years, since his death, in exactly the same vein as his original designs. They hope to have it done by 2030. They’re hoping for major progress by November - when the Pope comes! The outer facades are remarkable and out of this world - but walking inside steals your breath away. I only heard the word “WOW” being muttered. It’s massive and mind-bending and so very, very cool. And this wonderment is possible even with the cranes, the dust, the jackhammers, and the construction crew that works non-stop. As Rick Steves’ says, “If there is one building in the world I hope to see finished - it’s this one.”

Montjuic was another favorite. Known as the “Mountain of the Jews” - a castle was built on the hill in 1640 for defense of the city. The views of Barcelona and the coast are fantastic and there are many sculptures around the grassy, park-like areas. La Sardana was my favorite - a sculpture of 8 stone dancers which captures the essence of the Catalan people and Barcelona itself. In this area of the city, El Poble Espanyol resides. It was originally built for the 1929 World Fair and is basically a Spanish village replica of all the autonomous regions of Spain. It’s enclosed behind tall stone walls and has shops with different artisans, cafes with mediterranean cuisine, and galleries with contemporary masters like Picasso, Dal, and Miro. It’s like being in a city within a city, and might be something like “the wild west”, but more Spanish ;). I rather enjoyed my jaunt around the different regions of Spain, and my lunch of tapas.

My Flamenco Night at La Palau De Musica





Park Guell





La Sagrada Familia






Montjuic

Espana, Take-Two

Waking up in a new city is like stumbling across a shoe sale at your favorite store that you weren't expecting...it's exciting, a bit overwhelming, and full of wonder. I woke up in Barcelona this morning, and first impressions are completely favorable. It's charming. I haven't ventured very far away from my immediate neighborhood yet - I'm at Balmes Hotel on Carrer de Mallorca, in the L 'Eixample district. This means I'm six blocks from Placa de Catalunya which is where La Rambla starts and makes its way one mile to the coast. La Rambla is meant to be a Spanish version of the Champs Ellysees in Paris, but even better ;).

So far, my surroundings include tree-lined streets, outdoor cafes, a lot of bicycle and motor-cyclers, and big buildings that have tall, narrow french doors with slatted shutters as coverings - and one immediately calls to mind a spanish woman standing on the balcony, dress flowing against the wrought-iron rails, a painted fan in her hand and eyelashes fluttering.

My short history of the Spanish language is only partially useful here as they speak Catalan in Barcelona - but I've been successful so far as I know how to ask if they speak English ;). In addition to further foot exploration tomorrow - I have an evening at Palau De La Musica - which Rick Steves says is an often overlooked gem. I'm taking in a Spanish Opera and Flamenco show and am really looking forward to it. Monday, I will board the tourist brigade and hop on one of those Barcelona City tour buses...my saving grace is that I see all the things I want to see in one day, and can then decide where I want to go back to for more. The bus tour is one thing - the walking tour with the orange umbrellas held up, the foreigners following like a parade of ducks, and yellow stickers on your shirt are a completely different ball game - that I want no part of!!

My evening holds more perusing of Spanish history and reading of places of interest in Spain's second city. It's lovely already, and I'm looking forward to getting to know her even better.

Ibiza Adventures

This evening we leave Ibiza and I head to Barcelona while my mates head back to London, a rainy London. It has been such a fantastic treat to be able to spend a week with them, especially in this tropical retreat.

Although we could have been perfectly content to spend the entire week at the beautiful villa, we ventured around the island, exploration-style with four adults crammed into the backseat of a “large” crossover. At every potential sight, overlook, or vista - the car came to a screeching halt and we eagerly tumbled out, happy to have a reason to vacate the tiny space. However, most evenings, we found our way happily back to the villa, to sit around the pool, music playing, ice clinking in cocktails, and conversation rolling. The six of us easily let the hours pass under the blanket of stars, thankful for a slight breeze, and content to be sharing this holiday together.

The villa is in Sant Josep, which is on the south-western side of the island. The village itself falls away in a series of steep cliffs and rounded coves all the way around the south coast. There are pine-covered hills in the distance and some of the best beaches, that are more family friendly, but still very European - swarming with topless babes. Our local beach, Cala Tarida, is one of the sheltered coves and has flat rocks shaped by wind and sea that form natural platforms for sunbathing or playing “king of the world.” Sailboats rock in the water just outside the swimming area, the water is a clear aquamarine, and the sand is white and rock-free at least 60 meters out. There are a handful of great restaurants up on the cliffs overlooking the beach cove, three of which we tried. Each one was great - serving all the Spanish specialties like gazpacho, mussels, paella, sangria, and bread with aioli and olives. We haven’t gone hungry.

Monday, our first day of exploring, we found ourselves in a small village that felt like a ghost-town, with a beautiful little church and one amazing leather shop where the owner was making his wares right there in the shop - exquisite craftsmanship. We continued on our jaunt north, up the western coast to a beach called Cala Salada - the views were breathtaking! We drove through the mountains, passed by olive tree groves, and wound our way along the steep cliffs. The beach turned out to be a bit rocky for our taste, but we enjoyed the excursion down the half-mile of stairs to get to the bottom. We drove through the center of the island, again through different altitudes, and ended up on the south coast at Es Cubells - where we found a lovely small beach with a beach cafe that served cold beer, fresh mussels and tasty gazpacho. We drove through Eivissa and Sant Antoni, the two major towns on this side of the island - more touristy and hopping with gaggles of 20-somethings with clubbing on the mind.

Tuesday we spent the entire day at the beach - Cala Tarida - and thoroughly enjoyed being moved by the waves. Wednesday we headed north to the eastern part of the island to Santa Eularia and the the Hippy Market in Es Canar, near Punta Arabi. Yes - it is actually called “The Hippy Market” and there are signs indicating so. This spectacular takes place once a week in a shady, pine-clad headland that is transformed into a replica of the 1960’s, as the few remaining hippies of Ibiza sell their wares. Of course, it’s mostly become a trendy market with commercially minded entrepreneurs - but it’s still fantastically fun to walk around. Try on a pair of Aladdin pants, look at the bangle bracelets, get your hair braided, listen to the various musicians and bongo drums, have some paella, smoke a joint...whatever tickles your fancy.

After our blast from the past, we drove south again to Cala d’Hort, where the dramatic rock faces of Es Vedra are visible. Es Vedra looms large and is probably the most famous and most photographed rock around Ibiza. We stopped at the beach cafe for sangria and chilled as we watched the sun dance on the water. Lovely.

Thursday was another day at our beach and then the late afternoon and evening spent at Cala Comte, at the Sunset Ashram. Might be the coolest bar/cafe on the island. It’s bohemian and laid-back and funky. Live music plays with a club-like beat, sun-drenched people come up from the sand for cocktails, and the views of the sun setting are impossibly perfect. We enjoyed our last night together at the Sunset Ashram, clinked champagne glasses, and agreed that our week in Ibiza had been everything we’d hoped it would be.

As I write this now, I’m at the villa, sitting at the teak patio table, under the umbrella, by the pool. Helen is painting her nails, the boys are engaged in various activities - last minute sun bathing, reading, and watching golf on television, and I am enjoying the last hours in this beautiful paradise. I can see the ocean from my chair, the stucco houses and mansion villas nestled into the pine hills, and the sky is blue without a cloud in sight. In a few hours, we’ll cram ourselves one more time into the rental car and head to Ibiza’s small airport - adding five more tanned bodies to the tired crowds, although thankfully, we we won’t be sporting the hung-over, dazed look of a long night partying at the clubs! So for now - goodbye to Ibiza...hoping to see you again in the future.

Spain Wins

It's official - Spain won the World Cup. And the place went wild! It was so much fun to be here. We ended up at the local open-air 'chill-out' bar on the beach, sitting high on the rocks above the waves crashing onto the sand below. There was a big screen showing the game, fantastic appetizers, and a lot of pitchers of sangria being served. The crowd was a sea of red and yellow, wild cheering, and spanish singing - it put those England and Manchester United football games to shame. I knew that it was going to be fun to be in Spain while they played the final...didn't really anticipate the level of excitement and thrill that it reached. Definitely one for the memory books!

Ibiza, Espana

Sunday, July 11, 2010

The villa is a massive white stucco spanish style house with an orange ceramic roof. There are three balconies, one on each wing of the house over looking the patio and pool, and the arched doorways and windows outlined in dark wood give a traditional Spanish feel. We walk on rustic sandy-orange colored tiles both inside and outside the the villa and the cicadas lend a constant background vibration. From my small standing balcony, I can see the ocean in the distance, the rocky hills that slope down to the coastline, and the few sailboats by the harbor. We are only a short 15 minute walk to the beach, cutting through a small forest - but in the first two days that we were here, the in-ground pool out through the french doors was our oasis. It’s big, with varying heights to stand or swim or sit, the water is clear and clean, and the blue tiling on the bottom gives the appearance that the entire rectangle is a sparkling and shimmering aquamarine jewel. And it gets even better at night when the underwater lights illuminate the water and the sky is black with a million stars twinkling. This place is an unbelievable retreat.

This morning after breakfast, I was laying in the pool on a lilo - apparently that is the proper word for what we Americans call a raft or floaty. Helen was on one too, and we were two bronzing beauties gently gliding along as the wind blew us. Spanish instrumental music was playing through the Bose speakers, the cicadas joining in, and no other sound. I looked up to see where the four boys were - it was so silent. And there they were - all of them, laying out on sun chairs, but under the massive patio umbrella in the shade, absorbed in their respective books. It was priceless. Four grown men reading their novels while the two chicks played in the pool.

This afternoon we pulled out the barbecue and the coals and the boys had chorizo while the ladies had veggie burgers and roasted peppers with herbed cheese. Salad and cherries also made it on the table. It’s been fun to have a kitchen to prepare meals, to spend the day, lazily, at the villa...and then in the evening, as the sun is setting and the heat dying down just enough, to make our way to the beach for a lovely night dinner on the cliffs overlooking the water. We found this great open-air ‘chill-out’ bar on the beach as well, also sitting elevated above the sand. It has couches, chaises, cushioned chairs, and hip music with funky lights - and some of the best Sangria I’ve ever had! One might wish to be advised, however, that after enjoying a few pitchers of Sangria - you should refrain from thinking it’s a good idea to swim in the ocean...unless you don’t mind trekking home in a wet dress.

Tonight a tapas bar is on the menu as is the World Cup final. How exciting to be in Spain, while the home team plays for the championship! We’re hoping that the beach area will have a huge screen up so we can sip our cocktails and cheer them on, without crowding around a small television in a stuffy bar. I’m certain that wherever we find ourselves tonight - we will be watching the game island-style. There are no pubs, no crowded streets. Just a whole lot of beauty and sun and heat and six good friends having a truly spectacular holiday together.

A Glimpse of Meteora

Some photos from Meteora...

Meteora's Majestic Monasteries

I was right. Today was another day filled with awe. There’s a quote I read recently that sums up my day perfectly...“Gratitude is happiness doubled with wonder.” I think that captures the feeling of my entire Grecian adventure, and more specifically, today’s trek to the sacred rocks.

I was standing on these rocks, formed 60 million years ago, looking out over the mountain ranges of Greece and the villages below, and I looked up at the white clouds passing over my head. It was as if I could reach my hand up and swirl them around. Although there were tourists mingled with the black-robed Orthodox Nuns of the Nunnery, and the wind whipped my dress around like a Marilyn Monroe moment - the silence of the place was deeply felt.

Our first monastery was Saint Stephen’s, the second one was the Monastery of Roussanou. Both are actually Nunneries with about 20 lifers. St. Stephen’s was a bit larger and more easily accesible. They have this large piece of wood from a cyprus tree, hanging horizontally in their small stone courtyard. Beside it is a hammer-type instrument fashioned from wood. This is how they communicate the changing of the hours - devotion, mealtimes, chores, devotion. It represents the wood that Noah hammered on his Ark, sending his message far and wide for all his followers to appear on the boat. Cool. Both monasteries have beautifully tended gardens where the Nuns are actually buried when they pass on. Interesting. And all of the monasteries have unbelievably small churches decorated in the traditional Orthodox fashion - which is to say, beautifully and artistically and gaudily. Not an empty square of stone could be seen on the walls, pillars, or ceilings of the churches. Icons with gold-leaf and bright reds, blues, yellows, greens, and oranges stand out in hand-carved wooden frames. Frescos of Christ’s death and resurrection adorn the walls, and intricate wooden carvings encircle pillars and screens to separate the sanctuary. Jaw-dropping.

The moments of wonder seemed endless - it was all just a bit over the top. And on our way up the mountain, we stopped to gaze out over the rocks where all six of the monasteries could be seen, where the caves in the sides of the rocks were visible (caves where monks lived in the 10th century before the monasteries were built), and where the lines on the sandstone were transparent - a gift leftover from a prehistoric ocean that once swept through the area. Took some pictures of the ‘famous’ monastery - the one in the James Bond film, “For Your Eyes Only.”

Most people were quiet on the ride back to Athens - some sleeping, some lost in thought, and others profoundly touched by the vast natural wonders seen. Arriving back into the city, bodies moved around and came to life. As the sea came into view, I heard my lungs exhale a deep breathe I didn’t know I’d been holding. There’s something about me and water. I felt my core balance out and a smile on my face.

Now I am sitting in the lobby of The London Hotel, in Glyfada (just outside center of Athens), internally reviewing my day and preparing for my next adventure. In a few hours I say goodbye to Greece (for now) and head to Spain. I have a week in Ibiza with a group of friends from London - so incredibly happy anticipating seeing their faces, and then a week in Barcelona. I’m guessing that it will be very cool to be in Spain for the World Cup final. If England and the USA couldn’t show up, at least it’s fun that it worked out to be Spain while I’m actually in Spain.

Road Trip Back in Time

So I’m sitting in my hotel room, at the base of Meteora. My balcony looks out onto the massive rocks, “suspended in air.” I’ve had a day filled with moments of wonder and awe and I am certain that it’s just the beginning.

Too early this morning, I departed Athens on a tour coach bus, reminiscent of the Greek movie, “My Life in Ruins” We drove for hours through the mountains of Greece and gratefully rolled into Delphi around noon. I had no idea of the mountain ranges throughout the country, and was definitely not prepared for the stunning beauty of the landscape and the stark contrast to the island panorama of my previous days. Delphi was mind-numbing. I find it incredibly difficult to wrap my head around antiquity and I’m often left staring, gaping mouth, at the remnants of a time of legends. The remains of the Sanctuary of Delphi are impressive, to say the least, and one can grasp the life that would have existed - from the bathing pool, to the theatre stadium, to the temple where the Oracle of Delphi was delivered. In addition to the history, standing more than 1,000 meters high, in the mountains, was also quite spectacular.

We left Delphi, not quite finished absorbing it all, and made our way a few more hours to Kalambaka. Our coach zig-zagged all the way down the mountain and we had plenty of opportunity to see the groves of olive trees, covering the earth like a green blanket. We passed fig trees, lemon trees, cyprus trees, and pistachio trees too. Don’t forget the magenta colored flowering trees and bushes that seem somehow unnatural in their brightness. We stopped to see the Statue of Leonides at Thermopylae - this commemorates the huge Persian invasion back in 480 B.C. on the ground where the Spartans fought to save their land. We also stopped to see how replicas of Byzantine art is made, in the style of the ancient monasteries. This was in preparation for Meteora - tomorrow’s gem.

Meteora has apparently been a stronghold of the Greek Orthodox religion since the 11th Century, and is basically a rock forest that rises from the Thessalian plain between two mountain ranges. The monks of Meteora have been guardians of the sacred place for hundreds of years - they have a saying that when up on top of the rocks of Meteora, you can feel Heaven but a wing’s beat away.

Of the 21 monasteries that once stood on the rocks of Meteora, six still function today and tomorrow we will visit two of them. Glimpsing the castles in the sky as our coach rolled into the tiny town below, I could already feel a mysterious harmony, a contradiction between loneliness and majesty, waiting to be discovered.

Delphi






Leonides and Meteora