February 28 – March 5
We took an overnight train from Paris to Barcelona with a sleeper compartment which was as compact as can be – 10”x6” with 2 beds, sink, closets and a place to store your luggage. Regardless, I slept like a baby, train being my favorite mode of travel, as many of you might know. Luckily there was no smoking on the train. A welcome respite from Paris. Unfortunately, nobody paid any attention to the prohibition we learned. We awoke to smoke drifting in through the vents….illegal activity in the banos no doubt! I am looking forward to hearing Spanish again.
Barcelona was fantastic. Everything seemed to fall into place here: great weather (80% of the time sunny, mid 60s),
good hotel (nice sized room in the heart of the Gothic Quarter, good amenities with a great staff - crisp sheets, complimentary afternoon cava (champagne), espresso, fresh fruit and nuts for our munchies), outstanding food (lots of tapas and paella)
and 
friendly people. We seldom 
strayed from our immediate area because everything you saw or experienced there was either interesting or beautiful. If you took a walk and started ambling down the small, cobble stoned winding streets, inevitably you’d be pleasantly surprised by something: A shop, a restaurant, a musician, a mime, a church, a bar….The town really wakes up around 10PM so naps were in order and we got in the groove. We did not “tour” this city. Many of the things to see, we may have missed. 
We did join in on the Barcelona Marathon...that is we crossed the street while they ran by...later in the day we spoke with many of them on the metro as we travelled to another part of the city and they returned home with their medals around their necks.
As you may or may not know, Barcelona is a Catalan city…it is actually the capital of Catalan. 
The people there speak Catalan (very similar to Spanish but also different) and do not consider themselves Spanish. As a matter of fact, they consider it an insult to be called Spanish. A receptionist lady told me that they consider themselves more “European.”
There is a rather well-known local artist here named Gaudi. He died in or around 1930 when he was run over by a tram. 
We did see some of his work like his un-finished church. They are still working on it, 80 years later. Those large churches take a while!
They have an absolutely unbelievable market here,
La Boqueria. The above picture is actually a cucumber. I can’t imagine another market, anywhere, being more extensive.
Vegetables, fruits, cheeses, cured meats, poultry, meats, fish, all of
multiple varieties and all fresh. We ate at the market one day. We had a whole sea bass, grilled squid and mushrooms and peppers. Excellent. The following day, we tried to eat there again but there was a 45 minute wait.
There’s a boulevard here called Las Ramblas. It’s like a poor man’s Champs-Elysses but far more interesting. It extends from the port for about a mile or two. From midday to, I guess, dawn, people walk up and down the boulevard to, as they say, see and be seen. 
Along the way, there are restaurants, bars, mimes, musicians 
, artists and even a 3 story KFC. There is the fat lady 
who you can make a donation to in her cleavage. 
Men with outfits/painted on that look like fruits or vegetables. Aerosol paint artists who start with clear white board and in 10 minutes end up with a lush, mountain landscape. One night, Gerard went for a walk on Las Ramblas while I slept. He says he knows he is handsome and debonair but didn’t realize he still had an intoxicating effect on women ... he said many of them approached him and asked for a date…Barcelona will not be the same without him.
We took a cooking class one night and learned how to make sangria, paella, gazpacho and tomato bread with about 20 other mostly young people. We ate, drank, conversed and then consumed what we prepared and it was a lot of fun. I’ve got sangria down pat now and we will be reconstructing that meal at home.
Our local church was the Barcelona Cathedral. – beautiful and decorative. On Sunday, after the 11:00 am Mass, an orchestra sets up on the church’s steps. It’s mostly, if not all, brass and the players are of a “good age”, as Gerard says. They start playing and a few feet away,
in the square, people begin forming a circle after throwing their coats in the middle and dance their traditional dance particular to Barcelona. 
The dance looks simple but really isn’t. The band is funky, almost discordant. Gerard says he noticed a young, English kid, trying to impress his friends attempting to break into the circle but he was discarded by the locals with a “no, no, no”…I had heard they welcomed people making the effort to try this complicated little dance…I tried to mimic it and couldn't get it down so decided not to join in the circle.
It was a great 6 days. We actually wanted to stay a day or two longer, but our hotel was booked (probably due to the marathon) so we rambled on…..to Avignon, back to France. I have mixed feelings about this as I was actually happy to have left France, even though I loved Paris…. but we will give it another go.
Another beautiful train station
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