As we had not been able to shop for our picnic the night before, my plan was to make a picnic from the mountains of food available from the breakfast bar. There was sourdough bread, the lovely Iberian ham and cheese, so off I went. If anyone was watching me they would have thought I was breakfasting in preparation for a siege. At the same time, Brit was breakfasting at a café down the road, having found some enterprising shop owners making the most of the public holiday and most shops being shut. She arrived back with a bag full of those brilliant filled baguettes that will be responsible for me putting on at least two dress sizes by the time I return to Melbourne.
We checked with the girl at the front desk and as the Picasso museum was closed it was going to be Parc Guell day. The crisp but blindingly sunny weather was perfect for exploring another of Gaudi's masterpiece creations.
We got there by metro train, jumping on at one of the many stations dotted around the city after what seemed like a half kilometre walk down tunnels and up and down a maze of stairs. When we got to the station there was another incredible hike up the hill to the park at the top. god knows how they managed to build a whole suburb up there but the views were spectacular.
Gaudi planned and oversaw the construction of the park from 1900 to 1914 for a rich patron who intended it as a private park for sixty family residences. Today it's a public park and what an astonishing thing it is. The houses showed the same love off natural forms that Gaudi wove into the cathedral and apartments we saw previously. Natural shapes were woven into colonnades, archways and encircled elements of the building like ivy tendrils. Palm-tree trunks, arches that grew out of the ground, and quilts of ceramic tiles blurred the distinction between the houses and gardens, between serious building and playground.
A forest of fluted columns supported a terrace with view across the city. This was ringed by an undulating continuous bench with a surface encrusted with ceramic shards. The winding garden paths led us through the site to a building that for all the world looked like it was inspired by The Hobbit and a gingerbread house. The whole experience was amazing. Just as amazing were the elf like Indians selling souvenirs outside the gardens. they had an elaborate system that stopped them being arrested by the regular police foot patrols. A spotter would send up a text message and they would quickly fold up a table cloth with their wares and melt into the crowd. As soon as the copper passed they emerged from the shadows, arranged their wares and continued as if nothing had happened. All that climbing was tiring and so a coffee stop. Some lovely sugary choc doughnuts from Britty's picnic stores gave us renewed energy.
Unfortunately, a headache that has been buzzing behind my eyes for some time, began to assert itself and I started to fade a bit. By the time we got back to the city all I wanted to do was close my eyes and curl up. At least one good thing came of this and that was that as we returned to the hotel we used some of the back streets and discovered a wonderful restaurant that we decided to return to that evening. I insisted that Johnny and Brit go out and have their lunch. They also found a homeless man who had been living outside the hotel and gave him my baguette and apple. Other passers by had also left him a series of festive treats and presents.
After a few hours rest I came back to life, just in time to go out for dinner. What a find this restaurant was. There were the most amazing improvised lights made from cutlery, bike parts and industrial bits and pieces. at the back a lush vertical garden crept up the wall of a lighted atrium. It looked so sophisticated and fabulous. The food matched the architectural setting and was beautifully cooked and full of taste. It was a really wonderful, memorable meal. When we tried to pay, the bill was impossibly small. We noticed that as well as the food not costing much, the waiter had forgotten to add the bottle of wine we'd had. John tried to pay for the wine but the waiter wouldn't hear of it and said it was on the house. They truly deserved the tip Brit left them. Though Brit leaves tomorrow morning, Johnny and I will certainly be going back before we leave Barcelona.
