Wine and Fireworks

The Old Port at night is better than ever during La Mercè. There's a cava and wine tasting (XXIX Mostra de Vins i Caves de Catalunya), complete with generous tapas of the traditional kind. (It's no use reminding yourself that the wine is for sampling not inebriating.) You can see the Barceloneta fireworks competition from the pier. And, schools of tiny sparkling fish put on a show below your dangling feet as they try to escape their determined predators. In other words, there's a whole host of entertainments that I highly recommend.

The cava and wine tasting continues until Sunday. Plan to go early in the evening as it closes down at around 10:00pm nightly, just before things get really raucous; that means that you have to purchase the tickets that you trade in for glasses of wine and tapas before 9:45pm. Once equipped with wine and food, you can spread yourself out on the pier, with blanket or sans, and enjoy to your heart's content. You'll know it's time to go when someone pulls out the bagpipes.

La Mercè

The most patronly, or perhaps matronly, of the patron saints of Barcelona is Santa Maria de la Merced (la Mercè in Catalan, Mercy in English). In medieval Barcelona, her followers dedicated themselves to purchasing the freedom of Christian slaves from the Saracens. And, while most who praise her name today no longer have such lofty goals, she's still celebrated in Barcelona with the Festes de la Mercè, the city's biggest party.

There's music, dancing and general whooping-it-up throughout town this week, but our favourite spot to date has been Ciutadella Park. Decorated with dragons and luminous eggs, it is the site of an enormous jazz stage and the Asia Festival. The combination of crowd pleasing jazz, a comfy (if slightly obstructed) view of the harbour's firework displays and some truly kick-ass samosas is delectable. Bring a blanket if you want to sit on the dewy grass and don't drop your guard; I'm sorry to say that we've seen thieves about, especially after dark.

This weekend, we also intend to drop by the Catalan Wine and Cava Expo in the Old Port (Moll de Fusta), always an excellent mix of local wines and quality tapas at bargain prices.

La Mercè will party on until Sunday. For a full listing of events see www.bcn.cat/merce. For more on the city's other fiestas, check out The Sounder: Fiesta Anyone?

The Sounder: Fiesta Anyone?

Gràcia is alive with the sound of music, merrymaking and squeals of delight these days as the Festa Major fills its narrow streets. It's just the first of August and September's many neighbourhood parties. Read all about it in the Sounder: Fiesta Anyone?

And, while I have your attention, allow me to quell any fears that my thoughts have forever drifted from my beloved pastime of eating. In fact, I promise to return to writing about food and all its pleasures shortly. We've been sampling new restaurants aplenty with our various visitors this summer and it will be my pleasure to tell you all about them. Just not right at this moment. But soon. Very soon.

What the F Do I Do in August?

You might have seen the signs: "Tancat per vacances" or "Cerrado por vac-aciones" (Closed for vacation). They're on every second store and restaurant front in Barcelona in August. The city shuts down almost entirely this month as its overworked denizens take their holidays en masse.

It might seem like a terrible time to visit the city and, in some ways, it is. Those who describe themselves as foodies, for example, will find many of their A-list restaurants closed (Gaig and Cinc Sentits until Aug. 24/25; Alkimia, Moo, Cal Pep and Quimet y Quimet until Sep.; or so I believe, please double check). In addition, a smaller selection of shops is open in city markets.

On the other hand, August is also absolutely perfect. Generally, the city is quieter, less bustling and finding a spot on a patio isn't as challenging as it is in July. While the days may be a little sweaty, the warm evenings are absolutely delicious. What's more, all the museums remain open and, between neighbourhood fiestas and free outdoor activities, there's plenty to keep one occupied.

Here's a glimpse at what's available:

Festa Major de Gracia et al. - starting today and ending next weekend, Gracia streets will be decorated with everything from plastic bottles to CDs in recreations of Wonderland, Japan and God knows what else as the neighbourhood celebrates its popular fiesta. (Last year's decorations are pictured at the top of this post.) Look for musical performances, parades and other fiesta favourites such as castellers (human castles) and gigantes (giants). For details, brush up on your Catalan and check www.festamajordegracia.cat. Note that just as the Festa Major de Gracia ends, the Festa Major de Sants begins (Aug. 22 to 29). Check the schedule here: Festa Major de Sants.

Gandules at the CCCB - As mentioned in a prior post, on Tuesdays, Wednes-days and Thursdays in August, the CCCB offers free movies; this year's theme is Playing Cinema and focuses on the connection between movies and music. Seating is limited so get there early. In fact, I would recommend that you line up before the doors open at 9pm if you are to have any hope of snagging a seat. Here's a link to the schedule: Gandules.

Movies on the beach - The Platja de Sant Sebastia offers movies every Thursday this August (a short followed by a full length feature). The shows start at 9:30pm, I believe. I say this because I wasn't able to find a link that says otherwise. You'll just have to trust me. It goes without saying that you need a blanket and a bottle of wine.

Music at the Caixa Forum - The Caixa Forum offers a free concert series at c/ Marques de Comillas 6-8 on August Wednesdays. Look for Scottish folk on the 19th and Catalan gospel-soul (yes, weird) on the 26th. There are two performances of each (8pm and 10pm). You'll find more information here: CaixaForum Summer Concerts.

Music in Ciutadella Park - While the selection is not as ample as in July, the Music in the Parks concert series continues with jazz on August Fridays at 10pm in Ciutadella Park. Bring a blanket and a picnic dinner. Here is a link to the concert schedule (see second last page; divendres=Friday): Music in the Parks.

Music at La Pedrera - Unlike the other offerings, this one carries a cost of 7 euros a ticket, but it does give you the pleasure of enjoying half an hour of classical music on any given day in August at 7pm, 8pm or 9pm at Gaudi's Pedrera. Tickets can be purchased at the Pedrera ticket office on the day of the concert or at www.telentrada.com. For more information (albeit in Catalan), click here: Mas i Mas.

Restaurants - In terms of restaurants, the Carles Abellán set remains open throughout August--that's Comerç24 (reserve early), Tapaç24 and the newly opened Velódromo. So do most of the restaurants in the Grupo de Tragaluz: Agua, Bar Lobo, and Cuines Santa Caterina have all been reviewed here. Of the tapas joints, the Bar Boquería remains humming, so does the Cerveseria Catalana, Bar Mut, De Tapa Madre and chains like Taller de Tapas and Lonja de Tapas. Also try El Salón (see address and map) for a romantic supper in the depths of the Barrio Gotico (reserve on the patio to soak in an interesting neighbourhood atmosphere that includes everything from surprisingly talented buskers to the harmlessly insane or eat in the charming dining room) and Set Portes (www.7portes.com) in the Old Port for fabulous paella. The restaurants in the Port and along the beach remain open throughout the summer; of these, I like Agua and Merendero de la Mari best.

Oh, and don't forget to picnic and gorge yourself on ice cream. There are absolutely no impediments to either of those activities in August. In fact, I would say that, just this month, they're completely calorie-free.

If you have other thoughts about what to do in the city in August, please, please, please post a comment!

(* The links provided in this article are either to prior posts on the same subject (esp. re restaurants) or to external websites providing more information on a given activity. Let yourself be surprised.)

Barcelona Travel Tips - What to See Primer

I have to admit that I always find it stupefying when people ask me what to see in Barcelona. Not in the "we've seen all the major tourist attractions and are now looking for something off the beaten track" sense, but in the "we've heard that there's some famous architecture around here, what and where is it?" sense.

The latter happens more often than you'd imagine. The other day, for example, an American tourist, who started chatting to us on the beach (and who'd already spent two days in Barcelona), asked me about "the Guadi": "We haven't been to the Guadi yet. Where is the Gaudi?" This was pronounced as if Gaudi were some giant monument, cruise ship or highway overpass. Despite my misanthropic inclination to point the fellow to a basic guidebook, I explained that Gaudi is not a thing, but a person (now deceased) and that his architecture is found throughout Barcelona. I then showed him how to get to the Sagrada Familia on the map.

A slightly different manifestation of the same problem is the Philadelphia mother who wrote to me lamenting her visiting 18 year old daughter's inability to purchase meat other than ham in Barcelona. If only the poor girl (undoubtedly protein deprived to the point of near collapse) could just find a can of tuna somewhere, she moaned. I pointed her to a grocery store--any grocery store. But I'm getting off track.

This entry is for my American friend and others like him who need a little primer about what to see in Barcelona. Forgive me if I hit only the highlights.

It's barely debatable that the best way to experience Barcelona is through its architecture (a.k.a. "the Gaudi"). While the city boasts everything from gothic churches to phallic glass towers, it is best known for its art nouveau aesthetic--dubbed "modernista" around these parts,--which is best exemplified by the works of Antoni Gaudi...genius, architect, eccentric.

Gaudi's fairytale buildings capture the inimitable spirit of Barcelona. Dragon scaled Casa Batlló and stone faced Casa Milá (also known as La Pedrera, pictured above at right) vie for attention on the fashionable Passeig de Gracia. The caleidoscope tiles of Parc Guell, Gaudi’s failed garden city come urban playground, beckon from further north. And, after years under renovation, one of Gaudi's first projects, the Palau Guell, is finally open to visitors again (currently, only the basement and main floor can be seen; to compensate, the visit is free).

Gaudi's masterpiece, however, is the Sagrada Familia (pictured at top). The unfinished cathedral is likely to be another century in the making as construction plods along at a snail’s pace—official projections for completion range between 20 and 50 years. Even so, walking inside the spectacular church, with its soaring columns of sunflowers and dappled pools of light, is a revelation, somewhere between entering a living forest and boarding an alien spaceship.

While Gaudi’s contemporaries may never have overtaken him in sheer brilliance of design, Barcelona is richer for their attempts to do so. Domenech i Montaner’s Hospital de Sant Pau (pictured at left), for example, whose tiled maternity and gastroenterology pavilions--topped with patron saints and flowers--continue to function, and his Palau de la Musica Catalana, a music hall lit by an inverse pyramid of multicoloured glass, are brilliant examples of other iconic efforts. The best way to see the latter is to purchase tickets for a concert; if you can't manage that, the one hour tour is worthwhile, but book ahead because popular times, especially for the English language tour, sell out quickly.

Picasso, who lived in Barcelona between 1895 and 1904--his formative years—also left his stamp on the city. A walking tour available through the Barcelona tourist office takes you on a tour of Picasso’s Barcelona, finishing at the Picasso Museum, which is built mainly around works from the artist’s early years. After visiting the museum, take yourself back in time by having lunch at Els Quatre Gats, Picasso’s favourite restaurant. Perhaps the food isn't quite what it used to be, but the lunch menu is reasonably priced and the elaborate high ceilinged interior and stained glass windows (by another of Barcelona's great architects, Puig i Caldefach) remain much as they were in Picasso's time.

If Picasso makes you crave more modern art, Joan Miró and Frederic Tàpies are two Catalan artists with entire museums devoted to them. And, if diversity is what you're seeking, the MACBA, Barcelona's modern art museum, has it in spades, along with a spectacular modern building by Richard Meier, now the city's best loved skateboarding ramp.

More into ancient times? Barcelona's cathedral, a mishmash of architectural styles, is worth a look. Its cloisters, where pretty white geese roam free, are particularly charming. If you're there on a Saturday evening or Sunday afternoon, you may see Catalans dancing the sardana; please don't join in, they take the dance very seriously and, because the steps are highly complicated, you'll only throw them off in your friendly attempts to be part of the fun. Just behind the cathedral, off the Plaça del Rei where heretics were once burned at the stake, is the History Museum; the museum's below ground display of excavated Roman ruins is awe inspiring. On the other side of Via Laietana, the more somber Santa Maria del Mar gets the most votes for best gothic church.

You shouldn't miss the markets, of course: the Boquería is a favourite with tourists and a must see for the sheer spectacle. But, if you want something more representative of what it's actually like to go shopping as a local, try the Mercat de Santa Caterina, with its distinctive multi-coloured roof and modern interior.

Break up your days by relaxing on Barcelona's man-made beaches (as an alternative to touristy Barceloneta, try Bogatell or Mar Bella, the latter if you want to go fully nude) or forget the beach and lounge in the shade of Ciutadella Park.

And, with one hand on your wallet, don't forget to walk down Las Ramblas to the Old Port where Columbus points to the New World (pictured above at right). Las Ramblas, with its human statutes and stalls selling everything from flowers to roosters, is dirty, garish and packed, but it's also emblematic of Barcelona. You shouldn't leave without seeing it at least once. Just promise me that you will never ever eat in any of its dodgy cafes.

(* Note that the links in this post will take you to the official sites of the tourist attractions mentioned. There you can find the most up to date information about hours, prices and location. Most sites allow you to change the language of the text, usually at the top right hand side of any given page.)

Saaaaaaaaale!

There is a crazy law here in Spain that you cannot advertise a sale outside of the months of January and July. The law has been much maligned, and this year transgressed, as shop owners vie for the last of the "expendable income" customers in the face of a seemingly never ending financial crisis.

The upside of this antiquated legal regime? Anticipation. Not to mention aggressive competition in the price slashing department, which in the last couple of weeks has translated into discounts of up to 70% on some truly irresistible trifles.

Like any other moderately style conscious girl on a budget, I am a sucker for a sale. Shopping gives me a tingle that even true love can't fully replace. So much so that, when my replacement VISA arrived this year in the giddy first days of sale season, I gave it a grateful little kiss.

Needless to say, despite best efforts to stay on cordial terms with my creditors, I sometimes over do it a little. Not unlike when it comes to eating, really. I am ashamed to say that what is pictured is only a fraction of my sale pirate's booty. It was all 70% off, though, which sort of makes it the fat free ice cream of the retail world. And you can eat all you want of that, right?

In case you too find it hard to resist the siren call of "up to 70% off" in the final days of sale season and aren't sure where to find the best places to shop in Barcelona, here is my "must hit" list. Click on the name of the store for more information and locations.

Coquette - whimsical jewellery, belts and designers like Chloe See and Barbara Bui in a beautiful bonbon of a store
Hoss Intropia - creative handbags, shoes and the loveliest day and evening dresses; designed by Spaniards
Mushi Mushi - pretty tops and bottoms, sassy lingerie and fashionable bike helmets
Sita Murt - elegant day and evening wear as well as a very respectable collection of hand bags designed by the Catalan Sita Murt
Cotelac - ingeniously constructed dresses and layering pieces in reputedly the only Spanish outpost of this French chain
Comptoir des Cotonniers - casual cotton separates with a French flair
TCN - teeny bathing suits and filmy cover ups of Spanish design
Como Agua de Mayo - drool-worthy shoes and accessories as well as a selection of women's separates
Capricho de Muñeca - hand-made wallets and handbags
Jour & Nuit - funky women's clothing in fashion mega-mall, L'Illa

San Juan

It was a year and two days ago that I met Felipe at the verbena de San Juan (Sant Joan in Catalan), the all night party prior to the day of San Juan on June 24th. The verbena is a celebration of the shortest night of the year, somewhat belatedly, mind you, as the summer solstice in fact usually occurs on June 21st. In Catalunya, the night is celebrated with street bonfires (hogueras; fogueres in Catalan) and an inebriated beach party complete with DIY pyrotechnics, which every year rob the citizens of Barcelona of some three hundred eyes and fingers.

Like New Year's Eve in North America, la verbena de San Juan is the night on which the past is laid to rest, as symbolized by the burning of old possessions, and a new beginning is ushered in to the booming sound of fireworks. These, unlike in the blithely litigious and highly regulated world across the Atlantic, are randomly set off by the young and the dim witted in every imaginable corner, giving the city the sound and smoke filled look of war torn Bosnia.

It's also a night when sex is in the air and the atmosphere is rife with expectation. Everyone, from the packs of pink British boys to the bronzed American blondes to the scantily clothed Brazilians of both genders, wants some. And, on the night of San Juan, they're likely to get some, particularly if they wait long enough. By 4 or 5am, with the joints smoked and the ecstasy dissolved and the bottles dry, there's little to do in the sand other than kiss. And 6am, when the weary police enter to disperse the crowds and make room for the dutiful clean up crews, is the moment to take your San Juan sweetheart home, bobbing alongside you like the magical, if slightly deflated, balloon your parents tied to your wrist at the town fair so many years ago.

Of course, if you're anything like me, you won't let your new love upstairs after the two hour walk home from the beach, leading the excessively proud gentleman, or lady, as the case may be, to refuse your number and walk off in a huff. If that should happen to you, don't worry. Repentance for actions taken in haste is swift. In other words, you may get your fairy tale ending yet.

A Picnic in Heaven

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

...

And then, of course, there's the "cheek to cheek" business of the Irving Berlin classic, but I never get to that part when I'm singing the song in my head these days. "I'm in heaven" is on a permanent loop.

Indeed, heaven is the luscious slice of bliss that is currently Barcelona: cotton candy cumuli bobbing on periwinkle skies, whispering oak canopies shading the grand boulevards, terrace gardens erupting in flower, choirs of birds singing the city awake, a heat that hasn't lost its kindness, and a slight breeze ruffling the scarves that cling stubbornly to Barcelona necks despite forecasts of a balmy 25C. It's the kind of ephemeral perfection that leaves one wandering the city in a bemused trance hoping that the reverie never ends.

Actually, the best part is that it's only just beginning. Tourist invasion aside, spring and summer in Barcelona are an absolute wonder and, whether you're a hardened Barcelona resident or a wide eyed visitor, I recommend celebrating their glory with a picnic.

Your picnic need not be elaborate. You can make do with a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of wine or maybe even a cava if you're hoping to get lucky. Throw in a brownie or a punnet of strawberries or perhaps both and you have a veritable feast. All you need to worry about is the blanket as I'm about to take care of the rest.

In terms of ready-made picnic supplies, Barcelona abounds with bakeries and food shops to cater to your every need. In a pinch, try the sandwiches and cakes at the Eixample's Mauri Pastelería (www.pasteleriasmauri.com, tarts and croquettes of all kinds are a particular treat)) or at Garriga (c/ Consell de Cent 308, tel. 932 157 215, the plum cake (in Spanish, "ploom cake") is particularly delicious); more elaborate take away plates and generous American style desserts at Born Cooking (www.borncooking.com, excellent if you're missing carrot cake or chocolate chip cookies); a variety of ready made dishes, including traditional favourites, at Pim Pam Plats and its sister restaurant Pim Pam Burger in the Born (pimpamplats.com); delectable baked goods at the recently opened Atlanta bakery (c/Princesa, just off of Via Laietana, beware of the baffling lack of reasonable take away containers, particularly as there's nowhere to eat inside) [NOTE 17-08-2009: Atlanta closed as rapidly as it opened; in its place, and under the same name, you can now find a women's clothing store]; wine and just about any canned product at the Eixample's Colmado Quilez (Rambla Catalunya 63, tel. 932 158 78; in a nod to old timey redundancy, get the cashier to total your purchase, take the receipt to the woman at the door to pay and return with the stamped receipt to pick up your purchase from the cashier); and, if you're feeling a little more hands on and up for adventure, anything and everything at the spectacular Boquería Market (www.boqueria.info).

Ferreting out the perfect location is also a breeze these days. Some of the best picnic spots in Barcelona can be found on the steamy beaches with their buzzing boardwalks and chiringuitos (venture past Barceloneta and Puerto Olympico for fewer American teenagers); on the shady slopes of Montjuic--best experienced while watching an outdoor movie with your picnic dinner (check out www.salamontjuic.com for this summer's movie schedule, screenings start June 29 and continue to the end of July); amid Ciutadella Park's tree-lined hive of activity, whether during a concert (the Musica Classica als Parcs concert series is scheduled for Thursdays and Fridays at 10pm in Ciutadella and Turo Parks between July 2 and 24, 2009) or an impromptu juggling rehearsal; within the idyl of Gaudi's Parque Guell (brave the crowds at the entrance and on the fabulous tiled terrace and make your way to the rustic aqueducts lined with alcove benches); and, if you're in the mood for a subway ride (Mundet or Valldaura metro stops on the Green Line (L3)), lost in the childish pleasure of the the living labyrinth in the Parque del Laberinto de Horta. For more information about Barcelona parks, gardens and beaches check out the Parks and Gardens portion of the City's website at www.bcn.es/parcsijardins.

Oh, and one more thing, if you're lovers, or maybe even if you're not, take along a book of the now deceased Mario Benedetti's poems, as Felipe and I did this week, and select a few to read out loud over a glass of wine on the grass.

Roses and Books (La Diada de Sant Jordi)

So, Sant Jordi is a saint, the patron saint of Catalunya in fact. You may know him better as Saint George. You know, the one who slew the dragon. You must have heard about the dragon--the dragon that was menacing the village and demanding villager blood in return for not wreaking even more destruction (you know, not unlike the former Bush government). Each night, the villagers would decide by lottery who would offer him or herself to the dragon the next morning. The village's government was rather egalitarian and, one day, the lot fell on the village's princess. She went willingly to meet her fate; however, before the dragon could tear her to shreds, Saint George appeared on his firey steed and stuck a lance through the dragon's heart. Catalan legend has it that out of the dragon's blood a rose bush sprang.

Now, one might quibble about the fact that Saint George waited until the princess was in danger before he slew the dragon, letting countless hapless villagers go to their deaths, but that would simply show a flawed understanding of foreign policy--the central tenet of which appears to be don't get off your couch until there's something in it for you, whether that be simple glory or foreign oil.

Glory Saint George received. Catalans, for one, celebrate him on April 23 by giving roses and books to their beloveds. The roses, a symbol of passion, are accompanied by blades of wheat, a symbol of fertility, and the Catalan flag, a symbol of the still simmering Catalan nationalism; they are traditionally a gift for the ladies, though times are changing. The gentlemen, in turn, receive books. This appears to have more to do with the fact that April 23 is also the International Day of the Book and, coincidentally, the date on which both Shakespeare and Cervantes died. In any case, it's a charming custom.

In Barcelona, the streets are never more packed than on the Diada de Sant Jordi. Book and flower sellers are out in tents on Paseo de Gracia, Rambla Catalunya and Las Ramblas, selling wares to couples strolling by. Well, that's the public relations dream; the reality is that it's more a day of teeming throngs--lovely as the idea is, we had to narrowly escape suffocating crowds and exhausting line ups as we were strolling yesterday evening. Despite the challenges, I am today the proud owner of Exciting Barcelona: Festivals and traditions and Contemporary American Culture: An Anthropological View, not to mention a blood red rose.

To check out Barcelona hotels click here: Barcelona Hotels.

Saint Nicholas is Coming to Town

Even though Barcelona's Christmas lights have been up since the end of November, Christmas-time in the city really begins on December 6th.

December 6th marks the rather prosaic Constitution Day in Spain, a national holiday commemorating the signing of the Spanish Constitution in 1978, three years following the end of Franco's dictatorship. Practically speaking, it's the last long weekend before Christmas. If the 6th happens to fall on a Tuesday or Thursday, todo el mundo hace el puente--that is, everyone takes a vacation day on the Monday or Friday to make it a four day weekend...five day if the holiday falls on the Wednesday. As a result, the day is sometimes referred to as El Puente de la Constitución.

Most everywhere else in Europe, December 6th is St. Nicholas' Day. St. Nicholas--patron saint of children, students, sailors, archers, merchants and pawnbrokers--is the less commercialized version of the modern day Santa Claus.

Legend has it that St. Nicholas was an infamous anonymous present giver. Preferring to eschew gift giving glory, he deposited his parcels after nightfall, long after prying little eyes were fast asleep. One story has it that he took pity on a poor farmer who wasn't able to afford dowries for his three nubile daughters. On three consecutive nights, St. Nicholas crept up to the family home and tossed gold into stockings that the sisters had hung out to dry thereby funding their dowries and saving the maids from a certain fate of prostitution--not to mention giving a whole other meaning to his signature "Ho! Ho! Ho!".

St. Nicholas is often depicted with three sacks or balls of gold in a nod to the legend. In certain countries, the balls of gold have been transformed into oranges in the popular imagination leading to the tradition of giving oranges as gifts on December 6th. Conveniently, it's when oranges happen to be in season.

While St. Nicholas' Day is not particularly celebrated in Spain, the Dutch seem to believe that Sinterklaas (the Dutch version of St. Nicholas) hails from these parts. Dutch legend has it that after Sinterklaas gives presents to all the good little children, he packs up all the bad little children in his empty sacks and takes them back to his Spanish lair. Presumably to work in his sweatshops...I mean workshops.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

The Weather Outside is Frightful

It's blustery and cold here in the Ciudad de Condal. The waves breaking on Barceloneta beach are impressive, as are the few surfers brave or crazy enough to venture in with their boards. Felipe and I are content to watch them, huddled into our coats and scarves, warming our hands on hot chestnuts if we can still find them.

We've been going out for long walks as often as we can on these frigid days--a sort of boot camp for our winter holidays in Canada. The unfortunate truth--and one I haven't yet let Felipe in on--is that a blustery day in Barcelona has nothing on a Canadian winter. I'm trying to break it to him gently, shall we say.

Our night walks are now lit by Barcelona's myriad constellations of Christmas lights and, by day, we often pass through the cathedral square, where the Fira de Santa Llucia (www.firesifestes.com), with its gaudy holiday baubles and fragrant greenery, opened this weekend. Only the creche in Plaza de Sant Jaume remains a secret, though not one that's very well kept: you get a pretty good idea of the state of things by surreptitiously peeking through the green netting.

These are the last days of chestnut season--the few Castanyada shacks that haven't yet closed for business will likely do so in the next few weeks or so--and the early days of turrones and other Christmas sweets. If you're keen, you can read about the latter here: No Ordinary Nougat, Peladillas, and The Dustiest of Desserts.

All in all, a wonderful time to be in Barcelona, despite the cold.

La Castanyada

Felipe and I went out today fully decked out in our finest wiggery to confirm reports that Spaniards are quickly catching on to Halloween. We were fiercely stared down by dour Catalans and thoroughly drenched with rain--a punishment by a dour Catalan god, no doubt.

It all makes us think that rumors of Spanish Halloween have been greatly exaggerated. Or perhaps that Catalans remain fiercely anti-Spanish, which in this case may also make them anti-Halloween. Nonetheless, we will venture out again tonight to conduct further investigation. The Gangsters of Love are playing at El Monasterio (Passeig Isabel II, Born) and you might remember their hip swinging, slow drawling, harmonica playing singer from the Got Bail post. I know, I know, I'll be accompanied. But one can always look...particularly when a harmonica's involved.

In any event, that still leaves us with La Castanyada. I really should have mentioned it when I last wrote about panellets, but for sheer laziness I left out that part of the story.

Since we're temporarily trapped at home by the pouring rain, I'll tell you now.

Loosely translated, La Castanyada means something like The Chestnut Season. Strictly speaking, it occurs on October 31 and November 1 when Catalans partake not only in panellets and moscatel wine, but also in roast chestnuts (castanyas in Catalan) and sweet potatoes (boniatos). As such, October not only sees the cookie market flooded with panellets, it also sees the installation of tiny shacks on select street corners where robust, soot covered women (and sometimes men) tend charcoal grills for roasting said chestnuts and sweet potatoes. The women store the chestnuts, once roasted, in giant drawers insulated with the rattiest blankets on God's green earth. And, by golly, they're brimstone hot and diabolically delicious. The chestnuts, not the blankets. The blankets you'll just have to overlook.

You can pick up a packet of 12 chestnuts for about 2.50 euros and a sweet potato for between 3 and 4 euros. Mauri Pastissería has its own chic stand at the corner of Provença and Rambla Catalunya and can also supply you with some tasty panellets. For a more authentic Castanyada experience, however, try a stand that's not a name brand. Central spots include the stand on the southwest corner of Plaça Catalunya and the one on Calle Bailen, a few blocks south of Travessera de Gracia.

But hurry! The shacks disappear soon!

La Cuaresma

We're in the middle of Cuaresma, Ladies and Gentlemen. That's right, the seven weeks of Lent are upon us--well, upon the unlapsed Catholics among us anyway.

In case you're unclear, Lent is the 40 day period of abstinence and fasting between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday. The modern rules of Lent require fasting on Ash Wednesday (Miercoles de Ceniza) and Good Friday (Viernes Santo) and abstinence from meat on all other Lenten Fridays--that traditionally includes eggs and milk, but not fish. Apparently, that's the reason Fillet of Fish sales spike in North America before Easter.

Why doesn't fish fall within the meat prohibition? Some say it's the shedding of animal blood during Lent that's really the issue and, in particular, the blood of warm blooded animals, which tends to arouse the passions; that's not so much of a problem with fish apparently, which are as cold blooded as they come. Others think that meat was prohibited during Lent because it was historically a sign of wealth and power and its removal from the diet was a true deprivation; again, not historically the case with fish.

Sardines, salt cod, herring and eel are typical of Cuaresma. So are stews of chickpeas and beans. The staples of fast food cuisine--bread (flour), water and oil--are also commonly used in Spanish Lenten cooking because they are viewed as "poco nutritivo" and therefore in keeping with the tradition of abstinence.

That brings us to the ushering in of Cuaresma on Ash Wednesday, which occurred in Barcelona with the Entierro de la Sardina (the Burial of the Sardine). I guess if you're going to bury something, a sardine is as good as anything else.

The burial, I must divulge, was not as much a burial as a cremation, which this year took place before a couple of hundred spectators in Parc Clot, where I dutifully took myself a few weeks ago.

As legend has it, the tradition of the burial of the sardine goes back to the 19th century when Carlos III allegedly ordered the burial of a shipload of spoiled sardines on the eve of Lent. The burial acted out today recalls this event and symbolizes the letting go of all vices in anticipation of the traditional religious period of spiritual cleansing.

In modern day Barcelona, the burial is accompanied by a parade celebrating the end of Carnaval and the beginning of Cuaresma. La Hijastra de Cuaresma (the stepdaughter of Lent, pictured above), an emaciated hag whose seven legs symbolize the seven weeks of Lent, carries with her seven sardines reminding spectators of the Lenten diet. In case that doesn't bring the message home, the seven stooges that accompany her menace innocent bystanders with raw sardines. (A related aspect of Spanish Lenten tradition, by the way, is the hanging of a cardboard Hijastra de Cuaresma in the kitchen and the cutting off of one of her seven legs on each Sunday of Lent to mark the passing of the time of deprivation.)

La Hijastra de Cuaresma and her seven companions vanquish the seven days of Carnaval and send the Carnaval king (King Carnestoltes) off to be buried along with the sardine following the reading of Carnestoltes' will by his weeping widow. This is all very dramatic and really gets the crowd going, as does the samba over to the sardine's funeral pyre.

The whole spectacle is finished off with a sardinada (a sardine grill up), for which eager Barcelonites line up for hours. This isn't as much an indicator of popularity as it is a side effect of the 2 hour tardy start of the sardine cremation; así es la vida en España, Cuaresma or no Cuaresma.

Fat Thursday

Fat Thursday (Jueves Graso) has started off Carnaval en España. In Barcelona, a traditional tasting of butifarra de huevo (along with tortilla) was held and a parade satirizing the fiasco of the construction of the highspeed train between Madrid and Barcelona wound its way to Sants station. Other than that, it's not the crazy celebration that you might imagine in the city. Sitges, down the road, is reputedly much more raucous. I'm heading there on the weekend and will send a report. I will also no doubt attend the traditional burial of the sardine on Tuesday or Wednesday. Yes, a sardine. Yes, a burial. And yes, apparently it's a big deal.

Christmas Scenery

The weather has been beautiful in Barcelona. Upwards of 18 degrees (that's Celsius) and dazzlingly sunny. The boys are out with their hola guapa's as if it were the middle of summer. Perfect for Christmas shopping and general holiday related perambulating.

The Old Town feels particularly atmospheric of late. The Christmas lights have been up for a couple of weeks now. Every second tienda is selling Navidad sweets. The Feria de Santa Lucia gives the cathedral square a carnival like feel. And they've finally unveiled the creche in Plaça Sant Jaume.

The creche had been hidden for several weeks behind tall fencing, like the fencing around construction sites, the kind that helps build anticipation. Unveiled, it's quite lovely, even though so much religiosity doesn't always agree with me.

This year, the creche is an intimate thicket bisected by a path. In between the poplars and shrubs are carved wooden lambs, shepherds, Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. Behind them, in a nod to modernity, are chicken wire crates of varying sizes containing natural materials native to the Mediterranean coast: evergreen boughs, grasses, rocks, shells. These are not containers of left over greenery not yet disposed of by the normally efficient Barcelona clean up crews, as I originally thought. They're intentional, in fact. The display is meant to call attention to the intersection of modernity and tradition, the urban and the natural. That's what it says on the Catalan only plaque explaining the scene, in any case. Well, that and no dogs allowed.

Walking through the creche might actually have evoked a "communing with nature" effect were it not for the throngs of others also making their way through. I suppose that's the interactive "urban" portion of the display. And what's December without a little thronging? Really, it helps build up that healthy misanthropy that Christmas dinner was created to dissipate.

The (Personal) Best of Barcelona

Four of my Canadian friends found themselves in Barcelona last week. Not a large number, but one requiring some organization. Reservations were made, itineraries were planned. We walked, we sat, we ate and we drank, rather a lot. The unemployed Barcelona Food Girl was treated to many activities beyond her usual means due to the generosity of her friends, for which she is very grateful.

Over our last dinner, I asked each friend to give me his/her list of Barcelona high points. There were two boys and two girls, two singles and one couple. In no particular order and leaving off the Sagrada Familia and the Picasso Museum, the high points were (more or less) those below.

An afternoon picinic in Parc Guell: Parc Guell in its time was a failed gated community. Gaudi conceived a garden city, but nobody bought in. After his death, the city turned it into a park filled with glittering mosaics and fantastical aqueducts of yellow stone. In a remoter corner, along the top of one of the aqueducts, run stone benches, which vaguely resemble restaurant booths, at least to the hungry. After the climb up, we recovered in one of these with slightly squashed ham and cheese sandwiches and marzipan cookies. Estimated recovery time post 15 minute walk was 2 hours, give or take a few dozy minutes.

Drinks in Placa Rius i Taulet (Gracia): We sat in one of the cafes bordering the square one afternoon. The famous clocktower was the impromptu goal pummelled by next decade's Diego Maradonna and his five companions. That is, until two beautiful Lolitas sashayed over and put an end to all that silly boy stuff.

Dinner at La Candela in Placa de Sant Pere (Born): The square spreads out intimately at the feet of a beautiful old church and is hushed and empty at night except for the candle lit tables of La Candela. It was my friends' first time in Barcelona and they were silent with wonder at the old square (girl friend) and the young French women at the next table (boy friend). [P.S. See update in Losses post.]

Dinner at Pla (c/ Bellafila 5 (Gotico), 93 412 6552): They had given away our table by the time we arrived, half an hour late for our reservation, the fault of some poor planning and obscure directions. However, we tardied happily at the bar until a table was ready. Once installed, and by then quite tipsy, we proceeded to regale ourselves with our fantastic stories. Hopefully, the terrific food and ambient music softened the blow for the other diners.

Deluge: I had made a reservation at one of the famous Barcelona restaurants in the Born. The plan was to have a drink at Gimlet Bar (c/ Rec 24, 93 310 1027)) at about 9 (I hadn't yet been) and proceed to dinner at 1015. By 830, it had started to rain. No problem for those of us who are in the habit of procuring miracles: we found a cab...eventually. It toook us to Calle Rec, location of said Gimlet. The street's entrance being blocked by a truck, we got out early. By this point, someone had opened a giant tap directly overhead and the sky was spilling. We huddled under our umbrellas in pretence that they were more use than a couple of soggy yarmulkes and tried to tiptoe through the pooling water that was by then in danger of reaching our knees. We couldn't see where we were going. The Gimlet Bar seemed like a fantasy. After two blocks and in near convulsive panic at the strong likelihood of drowning or at least being swept out to sea, we all agreed to go into the next place we saw. And we did. I don't know its name, but they had beer and wine. They served tacos and empanadas. There were tables and chairs. The waitress was understanding. And it was dry. We called to cancel our fancy reservation and proceeded to have an amazing night. When the rain stopped and the state of our clothes improved from sopping to damp, we topped things off at the sultry Gimlet, which we had obliviously passed within seconds of getting out of our cab.

Honourable mentions go to our final dinner on the lovely (and well heated) beach terrace at Agua (Passeig Maritim 30 (Barceloneta), 93 225 1272); the mojitos at Elsa Bar (see prior post); tapas at Cerveceria Catalana (c/ Mallorca 236 (Eixample), 93 216 0368); the sights in the Hotel Omm lobby (c/ Rossello 265 (Eixample), 93 445 4000); the Buda Bar (c/ Pau Claris 92 (Eixample), 93 318 4252), where we mistook the Barcelona Juventud for the then visiting Toronto Raptors; and a take out Spanish tortilla from a neighborhood cafe.