(Day 11) Vicky Erinstina Barcelona

“Ba-ba-ba Barcelona!” (Sang to the tune of ‘My Sharona’)

I was so psyched this morning and nearly bounded out of bed and up onto the deck once it struck me that we were already docked. It was ridiculously early, but the sun glowed on the horizon anyway and Barcelona lay out in front of me. I really wanted to see Spain.




Elevator pictures make me look speckled – perfect.

According to my calculations, we were relatively close to the base of La Rambla, which is the gateway into the city. The cruise ship was selling round-trip transfers for nearly 10 euro, and I’m sick of spending cash, so off we walked. So, perhaps my calculations were a bit…off. I assumed there would be many people walking since it was so close but there weren’t because, well, it wasn’t. Boo! Marty and I solidered on though and after about a 20 minute hike in the heat, we arrived at the Christopher Columbus statue at the base of La Rambla.




Point toward the new world! Or, his hometown of Genoa. The latter is true, though the former was the intention.

The reason we busty-McBusted off the ship so early was that I wanted to see the inside of the Sagrada Família church I had read so much about during my preparatory research. Once we arrived at Christopher, my focus was to find the nearest subway spot so I could race against time to see this thing. Luckily, I was armed with a map and some serious adrenaline, so success was surely mine.





The trains in Barcelona were quite similar to the other subway systems of the world…save for the homeless and blind elderly ladies who sing songs while wandering through the cars, hoping for change.



The fantastic moment came when we emerged from the Sagrada Familia metro stop and the sight before us nearly stopped me in my tracks. What a beauty!



The line-up to enter was already halfway down the block so we quickly scrambled to the back. The people just kept on streaming their way towards this structure. It wasn’t long before we were scooting past the ticket booth and up the stairs…it was awe-inspiring.













A video from the inside of this behemoth:



As you can see, the church is not yet complete…and won’t be for another 16 years. It’s only been under construction since 1882, so, you know, they have some time yet before it can be referred to as “behind schedule”. Not. The final product will have 18 spires while the current version only contains eight. One cool tidbit I gleaned about the architect (who has long since passed), was that the central tower (for Jesus Christ; yet to be built) is to be a total height of one metre less than that of Montjuïc (a hill in Barcelona), as the architect, Antoni Gaudí believed that his work should not surpass that of God.
















I call this side of the church the “Melting Mouth Façade” and try to impersonate it.





We had an 11 AM departure for our bike tour of the day, so we were to meet Grant and Rachel on La Rambla at 10:30. Off we trodded…but there was much more I wanted to see on my way!




The morning activity on La Rambla.











We found our tour group easily at Placa Sant Jaume and saddled up the rickety bikes they gave us to ride. Whether or not the bike will make it through journey, I guess we’ll find out.



I could NOT get used to this thing. It felt like my butt kept sliding forward and down so it was a constant exercise to keep myself from smashing my crotch on the bar. Nice mental image, hey? Before we knew it, we were snaking our way through the alleys of Barcelona.




Placa del Rei


La Catedral






Palau de la Musica Catalana…or, the Music Hall.






Our sarcastic Australian tour guide is riding ahead here in the blue. When I first approached him to join the tour, he told me his name, his age, and that he likes long walks on the beach. He was a deadpanner.

One of the next sights struck me. For some reason, I really liked the Arc de Triomphe in Paris…and now I see a new version before me. Beauteous!



Unlike Paris, this one is actually easily accessible and so we biked right on underneath it.


Here are some of the tubby geris that joined the tour with us. Sometimes, they even tried cycling faster than me on the bikes. HA HA HA HA HA HA.







The Arc was really close to Parc de la Ciutadella, which was our next, absolutely gorgeous stop on the tour.




This fountain was worked on by the same man who was the architect for the Sagrada Familia church we visited before. Like, whoa.





I took a super shakey/awesome video of me biking around the park. WARNING: Not for the easily motion-sick! So much fun.



Wheeee!




Another gurkin! They had some of these in London. Our tour guide actually had me convinced that this building was home to a large condom manufacturer and at Christmas they decorate the entire building in a giant condom. With Christmas lights. It was really convincing until the Christmas light stuff and then I started to question him.

We were soon on our way again, this time heading toward the main attraction (which I’ve already cheated and saw today), La Sagrada Familia. But first, some riding and sightseeing!






This is the bullfighting arena. Nothing going on today, but I don’t know if I’d really spend my time in Barcelona watching bulls stomping around.

Honestly, I really love this church! It’s supposed to open for public worship this September, so…anyone want to go to Spain in September? Let’s talk.









There’s a small park across the street from the church that we sat in to cool ourselves while the rest of the group went and explored the exterior of the church a bit.


Someone told me this picture looked like Marty with a child. LOL



Our next stop was the Olympic Village and Barceloneta Beach, so back up the road we went, until it stopped and all that was left was boardwalk.




PERFECT sun spot.



Apparently there was some nude older fella on a bicycle that drove right in front of me, but I didn’t see him. For once, there was a potential sight that I can un-see! Marty and Grant weren’t so lucky though. What can I say? Nudity is totally okay in Barcelona.











The beach was HUGE. Here’s my attempt at a panoramic (click to enlarge):



That’s a full 360 degrees people!

We stopped for lunch at a shack on the beach. As it turns out, we don’t have a choice of eating anywhere else and we were herded into a small group who was to share six beach loungers among the 12 of us. Our tour guide acted as our impromptu waiter since his girlfriend owns the shack – a-ha…it’s all coming together now. A captive audience of customers. It had a nice view though.






This is what eight euro sandwich looks like.









After we’d had a bit of free time to enjoy the balmy breezes, we hit the road again, checking out the activities of Port Vell.






O HAI! It’s you again!


Muscley-European-Man Jogging-Alert!



Four hours are up…and we have to give these high-performance bikes back. Wahhh. I’m feeling good though – I read that Barcelona has the highest percentage of cocaine in the air, compared to, well, anywhere else, I suppose. So yeah, we feeling aiiiiet.



Our last leg journey of the day was that back down La Rambla, and back toward our floating house.


Cool Friend.


Cooler Friend.





We were DENIED when attempting to sneak onto the shuttle with no tickets. Boo. So Marty and I walked back to the boat under the hot, Spanish sun while the Carnival buses just rolled on by. What. I know it was our choice, but still!



It’s good to be home again. I love to watch the sail-aways from the ports already…it’s kind of like I almost need that closure in saying, “Bye…but I’ll be back. I hope.”






We passed this little ship as we were leaving. It was choc-full of friendly Spanish people just waving their arms off.


Their little tug.

Marty had ordered room service as I watched us depart, so I headed down to eat my share when we were far enough out that I didn’t care anymore.



Snacks firmly on their way to my stomach, it was now time for dinner (blarg…already?) Off to the fancy dining room we went.





Carnival hadn’t forgotten us Canucks! Today was Thanksgiving in Canada and so they had pumpkin pie for the occasion.



There was another singing and dancing number from the wait staff after dinner; this time our waiter, Gede, joined in on the fun.



We retuned to our room before heading off to the theatre for the night, and were in for a bit of a shock when we found this guy hanging from our ceiling:



We were early to the show, so we decided to participate in the Bingo game that night. Big mistake…because we lost. So it was a waste of our precious free shipboard credit. Again, wahhhh!



As the evening went along and we began to set out into the open water to Monaco, the God Lord saw it fit to kick up the wind a bit…and so the boat got to rockin’. And then I went a-knockin’! Yee-haw!







YIKES! The wind wasn’t messing around. When surfing my onboard account on the TV, I found something had gotten charged to our account by accident, so I went up to the purser’s desk to deal with it. I needed to run back to my room to get something and as soon as I did, the cruise director came over the loud speaker to announce that due to the crazy-ass wind, we weren’t going to port in Monaco. Hearing this, I made a mad dash back to the purser’s desk because I knew, and I was surely correct, that the announcement would bring everyone and their dog out of the woodwork to ask questions and complain. The line suddenly stretched down the hall and into the elevator bank. We were all so disappointed. But…how can you argue with 14 foot swells?


That’s supposed to be the waves, but they kept crashing before I could take a decent photo. Oooh, the nerve.

So that’s all she wrote. Our tour of the South of France for tomorrow just vanished and I’m super bummed. Grr! So now we have to suffer for another day at sea! Can you believe the nerve of these people? Making us just cruise happily in the Mediterranean for a day? Seriously. :)

See you on the high seas tomorrow.