Barcelona

I'd been to Barcelona once or twice in the past, maybe 17 years ago. I have vague memories of the visit although I remember visiting the Salvador Dali museum. The Dali stuff blew me away back then.



I was in town this time for a mix of work and pleasure. I was giving a brief academic talk at a medical conference in town during the first half of the week and sneakily attending the Primavera music festival at the end of the week.



I arrived in Barcelona at 8:30am. I couldn't check into my hotel on the Passeig De Gracia straight away so I went for a walk around the centre of town. Most of the shops were shut as it was a public holiday. I walked down to the Modern Art Museum and hung out there for an hour or two.



The heat was fairly intense. I've spent a lot of time in Spain in the past but the heat always gets me. I just don't like the dry heat. I find myself eating less solid food and drinking a lot more water in that sort of weather. I guess I'm just more physically adapted to life in a cold, wet country.

There was a lot of anti-capitalist/anarchist graffiti on the shop windows in the streets near Placa de Catalunya. The current financial turmoil affecting Spain probably had something to do with that. The shops that I found in Barcelona were all fairly nice if both upmarket and expensive. I bought myself a new pair of trainers and a cap to protect my balding head from the sun. I also found a copy of a pixies CD 'the purple tape' which is out of print in the UK. It was only 5 euros so I was chuffed with that.

I also picked up a copy of an art book by Raymond Pettibon (of black flag/sonic youth goo fame). It was published to comemorate a Spanish exhibition from a few years back. I paid 50 Euros and it was selling for £120 when I checked the price in Amazon.

The underground system in Barcelona is pretty good. I had my eyes open for pickpockets but I only had one weirdo try it on. I was clearly a bit paler than everyone else on the street which clearly singled me out as a mark. Some bloke came up to me and started to engage me in disjointed conversation. He spun a bit of a sob story and managed to convince me to give him 2 Euros. He then started to ask me weird shit about how old I was so I told him to fuck off. I was slightly more polite in my lexical choice but i used my 'fuck off' Glasweigan tone of voice.

The Gaudi buildings are interesting to look at. My hotel was just a couple of blocks away from Casa Mila which just looks like it's melting. It reminds me of comic book art from the Nemesis the warlock series in 2000ad. I guess Kevin O'Neill was influenced by Gaudi and not vice versa.

Anyhow, enough rambling pish. Liked the city. Will go back. By train if I can.