He Should Know, He's Been There Enough

A couple weeks ago in southern Italy I ordered a flavor of gelato and the girl behind the counter laughed at me...not with me...at me.

I thought, "that is odd," since I am trying to spend euros and that means a job for her. When I asked how to pronounce it...she continued to laugh.....meaning she spoke no English and clearly I spoke no Italian, not even gelato-Italian.

Still, "streciatello" remains my favorite flavor even if the "Streetside Gelato" store in Brari, Italy is not my favorite purveyor.

But, diligent fan of languages that I am and determined to order gelato "like a native" even if it takes three sabbaticals.  I have continued to order "streciatello" right across the Mediterranean each time, carefully refining by technique.

Today I walked in to a Catalunyan-Spanish-Speaking gelato store and confidently ordered...."Strechiatello!"

"Very Good!" said the young gelato serving waitress.

(I have arrived)

In the Barcelona Airport, All Roads and Flights Lead to....

Trying to get the lay of the land, we stood on the street corner and looked east and then I turned west an saw it....and said to Makaila, "If you'll walk six blocks this way, I'll show you one of the main reasons I came to this city."

Barcelona is a big city and it's blocks and streets are laid in a grid fashion which means six blocks is ... six blocks. In Rome, six blocks meant...maybe six streets in between but there were no blocks or anything in a squared off fashion about Rome's streets. Barcelona appears to be different. Anyway we walked....and after six blocks.....there it was

La Sagrada Familia...the incredible Cathedral of Barcelona by Gaudi. We were forced on this walk after breakfast when the hotel cleaning staff, being fanatical, started cleaning our room while we ate and thus could not get back into it and thus went on a walk without our camera.

Suffice it to say, the cathedral is a stunner. Makaila was not impressed because they have huge cranes all around it and scaffolding and other signs of on-going construction-in-progress....I apologized and said that if I knew she was put off by the construction material I would have phoned them and said we were coming and to "clean it up before we get there." She was not amused. The construction has been ongoing since....since it began and as far as I can tell they have had cranes towering over the steeples since the 1930's. There have been a couple pauses in the progress for things like a Civil War, a World War, the death of the chief architect, but besides that, it's been smooth sailing over the past 70 years or more. It is to be finished in about 30 years, I will set aside a Trust Fund of my grandkids to come back and visit and report in on the progress.

The lines were long. There is no piazza in front or side or behind it like in Rome...the cathedral is hemmed in on all four sides by streets. We will tour the inside on Monday when we get there early. Although the inside of the cathedral can't be nearly as entertaining as the outside. Besides, I have an appointment with Alphonso, my  Parruqueria Masculina, at 1 pm on Lunes. (Closed, Miercoles y Sabado)

Barcelona has a beach. Who knew? We have been around the Mediterranean and other large bodies of water, and it is Winter in this part of the world, so we were not expecting to surf or work on our tan, but other cities have not had attractive beach areas. It is clear that the Barcelona beach scene in the summer is slammin'. We just walked the boardwalk. Most people were in winter coats though Makaila and I were in sweaters and it's clear that their definition of "cold" in this Mediterranean city and ours differ. We found the train station to book our trip south. We found a bano so we could then find dinner.

We walked by this bar/diner/whatever...we still have not figured out intricasies of who serves what at what time of day...anyway some guys were seated near the sidewalk window....what they had looked tastey....we walked in and after ordering a "servesa....por favor" we were eating some sort of rice and seafood skillet dinner. It is Catalunyan...paella,I think, but it was excellent. As usual the waiter disappeared after placing the order on the table, we never saw him near us again exept when we ask the bartender for a bill and then the waiter rushed by like we had the plague and slapped the bill down on the table...this time, truly, never to be seen again. We no longer take this personally, it's obviously some European thing but I don't think it will catch on with the Bob Evans crowd where the waitress returns at least three times after your water glass is set down and asks if "everything is satisfactory."

We leave the beach area and the crowds of parka-wearing Spaniards and head through the edges of Old Town, which is aptly named. But instead of the main drag which is long and stodgy looking we note that there is a parallel street filled with people. This is where the bars, restaurants and little shops are. Keep in mind, this is a huge city and this was but one tiny corner of it. I look a block away and spot a cathedral I had read about. Another find, to be sure.

Santa Maria del Mar. It was hemmed in by buildings on all sides and you would not even notice it unless you were within a half block of it. It was 5:30 and I figured there would be mass and so, no tourists, but tons of people were walking in and taking pictures and we loved the place and walked all around it, even pausing to light a candle (1.5 Euros.....candle inflation in this Med Port City....but blessings on Santa Maria.). Around 6 we were ready to walk out and suddenly there is an announcement over the loud speakers, which I could not hear very well nor understand if I could hear....and like a tsunami, a wave of people came into the cathedral. As they kept coming it was clear that it was time for mass, so good bye to the tourists and make way for the faithful.

I would estimate about 250 worshippers rushed the front door (we ministers are quite good at estimating worshippers). I would also estimate the average age of the worshippers to be at least 75. (We are adept at that estimate too)

I have seen the future of Catholicism in Spain. It is finite. I hope I am wrong. I am but the messenger.

And speaking of age....no one in Spain has gray hair either. I have been in four countries recently and can count on one hand the number of people with gray hair. Obviously my ancestors here in the Old World have developed a heartier strain of DNA for their hair color, though I suspect it has something to do with Alfonso and his professionals.

Peace,  Bob