Final Thoughts on Barcelona, Part II (Spain)

I like lists so without further ado...

Things we do not miss about Barcelona:

- High cost of living + low (and unstable) wages. Most people in major cities feel this pinch, but “El Crisis” surely puts this into a whole other category. In consulting, contracts that were ending were not getting renewed, and at the university, every couple months seemed to bring further pay cuts or more layoffs. Money was pretty tight for our tiny, sixth floor walk-up apartment, not to mention the obligatory surcharges we got for being suspicious foreigners. Try also wrapping your head around numbers like 25% overall unemployment in Spain and over 50% for younger folks. Most of the lucky  survive either with as many flatmates as they can find or staying much longer with their parents - a cultural norm turned absolute necessity. We suspected this culture of strong family ties (as well as the social support structure) was the main reason you didn't see as much anarchy in the streets you'd expect anywhere else with those kinds of stats.

- Difficulty level of just doing things. Bureaucracy always sucks. Trying to get any business or anything official done requires multiple trips, multiple offices, and multiple copies… and Spaniards/Catalans fiercely guard photocopier/printer usage. Only brought 1 copy? Even if there is a copier right on the desk of the clerk speaking to you, you will need to: leave the line, possibly even exit the building, find a print shop around the corner, pay for extra copies, and join the queue you've been waiting in all morning at the end with a new number... and most of the government offices/banks close for lunch and will not reopen again.

-Alienation. A common complaint for expats. Catalans have a reputation for being a little closed. When someone still referred to her colleague Señor so-and-so after working together everyday for 40 years,  you realize learning Catalan is only one of the barriers to face socially. It was our own fault, too. Many expats get around the isolation by clinging to others of their home country, but we didn't move to Barcelona to stay in all-Brit or all-American enclaves and so avoided them assiduously. The city's got a fantastic nightlife, too, so doubtless, we could have made more friends had not our hard partying, late night clubbing days been behind us. Lastly, people don't often invite others into their homes either so it can be tough socializing on a strict budget.


Things we miss about Barcelona:

- The city. I personally think it's the most beautiful city in Europe, possibly the world. We've always been drawn to bright colors, mosaics, and wrought ironwork, and Catalan Modernisme brings these elements together in intricate detail and with the finest craftsmanship. These architectural gems are sprinkled all over so that walking around Barcelona feels like visiting an open air art gallery. Should these man-made creations not stir or inspire you, the city is book-ended by the sea and mountains. Even though we're always a little too ADD for sun-bathing, our regular strolls along the beach and port (25 minute walk from our door) were weekend favorites. The pleasant alternative was hiking in Parc de Collserola, where a scant 15 minutes on the commuter train would bring you to the trail head on the mountain.

- The neighborhood. Even though Barcelona is a big city, you feel like you live in a little village within it. We lived in the barrio of Sant Pere, or as Rich first described the narrow streets and old buildings, "like in The Bourne Identity." We got to know the people in our neighborhood - our bread guys, the super nice vet, the pet store lady, the bodega man, all the dog owners in the park, the man from the theatre, etc. - at least in a friendly nodding and chitchat way.

- The weather. Barcelona is almost always sunny with something like 300 days/year. The perfect blue skies made hanging the laundry out to dry off our balcony my favorite chore. While it can get unbearable in the summers, the temperature can also be mild in the winters. We sat drinking coffees outside one day in February in t-shirts. Beware though that too much of this makes one's sense of bad weather get grossly out of whack. Any day it rains in the city (usually about two weeks total in the spring) is the equivalent of a blizzard hitting the Midwest. Classes get cancelled, traffic gets ridiculous, and people come into work late, or not at all.

- The food. There is the obvious. Michelin stars have been awarded to quite a few Catalan chefs, and while we never got into the world's best restaurant El Bulli, we had the best meal of our lives at Cinc Sentits. But even beyond that, we miss even the basics. What Spain may lack in variety, they make up for in freshness and quality of ingredients. A pair of tea-drinkers really miss the excellent and cheap coffee. Ah, the perfection of the cortado (1 shot of espresso: 1 warm milk) mid-morning or after a meal! Then there is the unifying lament of every European moving to the U.S.- the bread. For less than a euro, we picked up our crusty barra natural (like a baguette but wider) newly baked everyday. Even the cheap cheese for our sandwiches was fancy - the generic store brand was still a mild blend of cow, sheep, and goat's milk. In the U.S., everyone's big on eating local or with the seasons. As a concept, this might seem strange in Spain since it's just how people have always eaten. My favorite seasons were  clementine/satsuma (I had to stop a 4/day habit because my stomach acids were churning), strawberry, fig, wild mushroom, chestnut, and jamón (ok, the last one isn't quite but most people buy one around the holidays). It helps that the country grows much of the produce for the rest of Europe. Still, it never ceased to amaze me how much more affordable fruits and vegetables are there. I could go into the greengrocer and come out with a stuffed shopping bag for less than 5 euros! For one thing, within the stores, produce appears to be graded (and priced) at different levels, ranging from the cosmetically perfect apple Americans have come to expect down to sad-looking apple that got a little beat up in transit but is still edible inside and probably half the price. But I digress. Oh, the seafood! the butchers! the 3 course menu del días that are 10 euros! the sausages! the cava! I could go on and on...


All in all, while there are a few other things we don't miss about our lives in Barcelona, there are many more we are nostalgic for. It was a great and rewarding experience to live there and absolutely the best decision for us. Though we're calling this post "Final Thoughts...," we can hope that we haven't seen the last of Barcelona. 

Final Thoughts on Barcelona, Part I (Spain)

This week marks 3 months since Rich turned in the keys to our Barcelona apartment. With some time and distance between us and the city, it's a fitting moment for us to reflect on our grand adventure there.

I had originally intended to blog about many aspects of settling into our lives there. But I held my tongue for a variety of reasons. It was really hard, especially that first year. Pinching our pennies  because we had grossly underestimated the cost of living. Sending out hundreds of resumes, and yes, pounding the pavement old school, searching for employment in the midst of the world's worst economic crisis in one of the hardest hit countries. Struggling with the languages, spending a fortune on Spanish classes, and ever struggling in Catalan. Knowing our families - and particularly my immigrant parents - would be our main and possibly only audience for the blog, I didn't want to worry them even more. And we were exhausted. Battling all day with a foreign bureaucracy (I'm pointing a finger at you, too, British consulate!) or bank or service provider, you come home confused, humbled, shaken, and possibly crying. Sometimes it was all we could do to muster our energies and try again the next day. So forgive the blog for only accentuating the positive.

As time went on, our situation improved, and we also just got the hang of things... It's ok if we forget to write our meter reading down on the sheet appearing on the front door to the building (or, as in one case, if I accidentally write down a number several orders of magnitude different!)... This is the corner shop that doesn't overcharge for fresh milk (since most people seem to prefer the horrific UHT milk)... Being able to sleep through the hourly ringing of the bells from the 4 surrounding churches, the relentless clanging call of the butano men one must hail to deliver orange gas tanks to your door (we dodged a bullet renting a place with piped gas), or worse, the drunk French tourists on the balcony of the illegal vacation apartment just outside our bedroom window... There were other aspects of everyday life I could have commented on. But Barcelona seems like the world's most popular place for attracting expats and there are even more Catalans. To presume my foreigner's observations would contribute anything different smacked a little of implied judgement of local norms or conceit, which, as an American abroad, I am conscious of the stereotype. So I stuck to a mostly tourist's perspective.

My further reflections will continue in the next post...

Sitges and Vilanova i la Geltrú (Spain)

Sitges is a charming seaside town not far out of Barcelona. In fact, if you ask Barcelonins what beach you should frequent, the mere mention of Barceloneta, the city beach, will reap you shaking heads and snorts in disgust. Go to Sitges, they'll say. And so we did.

A scant 45 minutes on the train takes you to this little gem of a town. Meandering streets with the occasional touch of Catalan modernisme architecture take you downhill from the station to the beach. A wide and immaculate promenade takes you past gorgeous sea-facing villas and sailing clubs along the smooth, golden sand beach. Restaurants serve up paella and fideua (a very Catalan dish similar to paella but made with short noodles) to the hungry hordes, but there are plenty of low-key spots along the boardwalk, catering to sandy bodies and selling bocadillos (like a sub sandwich) and grilled combination plates.

The stretch between Sitges and the neighboring town of Vilanova i la Geltrú has a lovely trail offering stunning views of the turquoise Mediterranean and rocky outcroppings. On a sunny day, you can see from the top of a cliff to the sea bed. While you'll get the occasional topless beach-goers in Sitges, as you go further away, the tiny coves along the trail become populated with more nudes. Sitges is very popular with the gay community so don't be surprised if you come upon well-muscled and oiled bodies trysting. Pepper interrupted some sunbathers in a tranquil inlet by bounding up and down through the waves and stopping for a poo 20 feet from their blankets! Mortified, we cleaned up after her and got out of there as quickly as possible.

Wine and cava in the Penedès region (Spain)

One of the highlights of living in Spain is the wine! You can get quality wines for low, low prices. If you're drinking at home and want to go the ultra-cheap route, bring a clean bottle to your local bodega and get it filled from one of the small casks for about 2 euros. When you ask for wine with your menu del día (= lunchtime set menu), in some of the more generous places, this results in a whole bottle being plunked down on your table. And then there's my personal favorite: in Barcelona, it's not uncommon for restaurants to sell cava (Spanish sparkling wine, or "xampany" colloquially in Catalan) by the glass. In fact, the tiny, narrow cava joints are among the most regularly packed bars in the city, and at 1.50 euros/glass, who wouldn't want to be drinkin' this Cristal?

While Spain's most famous region for wine is La Rioja, the Penedès region (appellation: Penedès DO) is not a far runner-up. It is centered around the towns of Vilafranca del Penedès (also very famous for their human tower-building castellers) and nearby Sant Sadurní d'Anoia, around 60 km west of Barcelona in a car. Since we don't have one, we explored the region with the rest of the guiris (Catalan for "foreigners") on a coach bus tour. In our defense, there were at least a couple of other local couples - including Catalans! - who also opted for the tour, sharing our drinking and driving concerns.

Our first stop was at the Bodega Jean Leon, whose original owner made his fortune as the proprietor of La Scala restaurant in Hollywood. Most of the wines produced on this estate are French varietals, and they gave us a too-young Merlot (bleagh!)  to compare with the full-bodied reserve Cabernet Sauvignon later. I should mention that "taste" in Spain is a bit of a misnomer. Receiving closer to half or even nearly full glasses of wine for each one, we felt it was all the more reason to get someone else to drive.

In contrast to the smaller estate, we also stopped at Torres, a global behemoth whose estates flourish not just all over Spain, but in California and Chile also. Does Sangre de Toro ring a bell? A covered tram brought us all around the vineyards and winery, showcasing their green building and sustainability commitments. We tried three wines paired with typical cheeses, and one Moscatel-Gewürztraminer blend made us reconsider our usual prejudice against white wines.  

Friexenet, our final stop, is no small potatoes either. In case you doubt its status as one of the largest producers of cava, the tour winds you through the deep levels of caves where barrels upon barrels hold the wine during the first fermentation and stacks of shelves store the millions of bottles during the all important cava-making second fermentation. Another three glasses of the effervescent gold (ok, so one was more of a rosé) met us at the end of the tour. Featuring blends of the three traditional cava varieties (going by super-Catalan names of macabeu, parellada and xarel·lo), they were delightfully refreshing and paired well with the bounty of tapas arrayed before us. Carquinyolis, a sort of Catalan almond biscotti, made for a delicious ending to our lovely day!

PortAventura in Salou (Spain)

Back when Rich was a kid, if his birthday fell on the weekend, he always thought it'd be fun to go to the theme park to celebrate it. Alas, in such climes, they were never open by the time the auspicious date rolled around. Not so in sunny Spain!

Just outside Tarragona in the town of Salou is the theme park PortAventura. They've been running their annual month-long campaign to draw visitors in with their Halloween-themed additions and deals. The promotion through the Rodalies de Catalunya (the regional railway service) is a pretty good one, considering the train stops only a short walk from the gates and the total price for transport + entrance is the same as entrance alone. The Halloween theme was also very prominent with jack-o-lanterns galore, ravens roosting in trees, and cobwebs draped in all the rafters. The psycho-killers jumping out from shadowy areas did lead to quite a few screams from unaware folks and nervous laughs from their friends. The long line into the Mayan Curse experience was transformed with such haunted house-style antics as fog and zombies that it did make me jittery. Even the dead-eyed one who bore a passing resemblance to Bono was pretty creepy.

PortAventura has many of the run-of-the-mill attractions you'd expect to find in a good amusement park in the States. The designers did seem to do an above average job in the quality and details of the differently themed regions. For example, a rainforest in Polynesia was manifested not only in flora but in a microclimate of humidity, and the Great Wall wraps around an Asian-style garden in China. The biggest draw in 2012 is the new roller coaster (which is, in Spanish, literally a "Russian mountain"). Shambhala, now Europe's tallest coaster and also boasting the tallest drop, is fittingly billed as a Himalayan expedition. It gets a thumbs up from both of us... and a special mention for the curiously free, big air feeling that comes from dangling feet, the lack of an over-the-shoulder harness, and an unobstructed view throughout the ride. Dragon Khan goes for loop-de-loop gold with its 8 inversions (very disorienting afterwards), and Stampida brings you back for old timey, rickety wooden thrills in a dueling roller coaster race. But the best on-board roller coaster photos have got to be from Furious Baco. The individual cameras trained on each rider catch precious expressions on video as you get launched, reaching a speed of 83.9 miles per hour in 3.5 seconds! Sorry, mom and dad, in the shock of the moment, most of my video was the stream of expletives also being launched from my mouth. 

Tarragona (Spain)

After a little over an hour on the express train from Barcelona, we arrived in Tarragona. We'd heard nice things about this town in southern Catalunya so we thought it would make a nice day trip during the public holiday of All Saints Day. 

The town is ancient, with the ruins of the Roman "Tarraco" having been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site. You can wander around the old town looking for the 30 locations marked along the urban archaeological route from the tourist information center. Some of them have beautiful mosaics and intricate scale models for you to really appreciate the Roman heritage. Or so I've heard. Unfortunately for us, many of the museum sites were shut for the public holiday... in direct contradiction to the opening days and times posted on the doors themselves, I might add. We had to content ourselves with the sections of ruins visible from the roads and other public spaces. Since these included Roman walls, towers, and a fairly intact amphitheater with a stunning view of the Mediterranean, it wasn't such a bad consolation prize.   

Like Barcelona, Tarragona has its own highlights of Catalan modernisme architecture. Delicate, intricate ironwork shows up here and there, and even an old slaughterhouse was done up mighty stylish. Probably the best example, though, is the fantastic tomb of King Jaume I inside the Ajuntament (City Hall). The architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner worked his mosaic magic again to house the Catalan king's remains in a gorgeous boat flanked by angel sculptures.

More stone figures appear in the form of apostles on the edifice of the Cathedral of Santa Maria. You can count on the church to be open on a holy day. Despite a few dark chapels along the edges, the interior of the 12th century cathedral was actually quite light and expansive. We also took a walk along the quiet cloisters, but we couldn't quite bring ourselves to disturb the peace in the lovely interior garden. 

La Mercè 2012 in Barcelona (Spain)

Another year, another La Mercè. Barcelona's major festival is in honor of its patron saint, Our Lady of Mercy, and it was interesting seeing it this time through the fresh eyes of our visiting family. They gasped as the human towers of castellers climbed higher and higher (and had to stop watching after seeing a tumble or two), flashed photo after photo of the dancing gegants and capgrossos (giants and big-headed figures) during the processions, and thought all of Barcelona mad as the diablos of the correfoc (or "fire run") shot rounds and rounds of fireworks into the crowds. The accompanying wine and cava festival was set up by the Arc de Triomf, and we all got a little carried away with our tasting of the local vintages.

Finally making it up to Montjuic, circus-style performers from the invited city of Montreal showed off their magic tricks and acrobatics just outside the walls of the 17th century fortress that overlooks the city. The Canadians could be found down over in the Parc de la Ciutadella, too. A pair of artists channeling Daft Punk danced in sophisticated lighted robot suits to electronic music. Another performer drew scenery and characters with sweeps of sand on a lighted display, which when projected, produced a fascinating kind of shadow puppet theatre. For a more interactive event, there were all sorts of steam punk-style machines - or movable sculptures? - spread throughout the park, and a big stage featured alternately dancing tutorials (even lindy hop!) and some loose kareoke.

While the Ajuntament de Barcelona (the city council building) again featured an entertaining light show on its edifice, it was clear that this year, the pièce de résistance was saved for the city's most iconic building - Sagrada Família. Even without adornment, everyone can agree that the facades of Gaudí's masterpiece are impressive. But putting a perfectly executed, three-dimensional light show onto the Nativity Façade was absolutely mind-blowing. The extravaganza highlighted the intricate detail of the carvings, and all the world's creatures seemed to flow forth from the Tree of Life sculpture. The building itself was a chameleon, shifting convincingly from molten gold to crumbling stone to an Eden-like waterfall and even to an under the oceans view. The production was so faultless and so vivid that everyone watching had a minute or two of stunned, jaw-dropped silence before erupting into raucous applause. It was truly one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in my life. 

Girona (Spain)

Girona, northeast about an hour and 15 minutes on the train, makes for a popular day trip outside of Barcelona. An ancient city, it seems like lot of history's heavy hitters - Romans, Visigoths, Moors, Charlemagne, and Napolean - conquered and ruled Girona at one point or another. Today, it means there's some beautiful architecture. There are cobblestoned, narrow streets and grand churches. Brightly-colored facades of houses overhang the Onya river as it lazily winds its way through the center. The Passeig Arqueologic takes you through some beautiful gardens, and you can actually walk along the battlements of the ancient fortress walls, some of which date back to the 9th century. The Banys Arabs look older, but the baths are actually a 12th century Romanesque construction.

We also popped into the local CaixaForum for some impressionist works. One of the things that never ceases to amaze me in Europe is the abundance of masterpieces very casually available to the public. Entry is free, there are only a few rooms, and yet any one of the Gaughins or Monets in this one collection would be the centerpiece of an American gallery.

As visitors to Girona, we happily played into the role of tourists and ate in one of the many restaurants lining the sunlit Plaça de la Independència (even though we studiously avoid doing such things in Barcelona's similarly picturesque Plaça Reial). Luckily, we managed to find the one place with a reasonably priced menu del día (lunch with multiple courses at a set price), and the gazpacho was wonderfully cooling in the heat. 

Catalan National Day in Barcelona (Spain)

September 11th is an important day in Catalunya but for very different reasons. It is the National Day of Catalunya. On this day nearly 300 years ago, Catalans suffered a defeat when backing the losing side in the War of Spanish Succession. Nowadays, the holiday is a lot like Independence Day in the States (day off work, flags flying, parades, etc.)... except imagine if the U.S. hadn't actually gotten independence yet and was still under the thumb of the British Empire. Because that's how a lot of Catalans feel. Although it is an autonomous community in Spain, Catalunya too was once its own empire. It has its own language and culture distinct from Castillian, aka what most people outside of Spain think of as Spanish language and culture. You don't have to drive far to see graffiti with "Catalunya is not Spain" in giant letters. Within Spain and even within Europe, Catalunya has been very strong economically with big industries and tourism, but with what many locals see as paying too many taxes back to the capital in Madrid and without getting much back. The Catalan independence movement has always been at least simmering in the background, but with the Spanish economy and government tanking, calls for secession have grown even louder.

There is always a big parade/protest for the National Day of Catalunya in Barcelona so we decided to take a look. Near Arc de Triomf, dozens of stalls were selling everything you need to show your national pride or support: t-shirts, bandanas, placards... even Catalan cola! The red and yellow stripes of the Catalan flag are a pretty common sight any day in Barcelona, but man, were the independence flags, sporting the extra white star on a blue triangle, really flying off the shelves! A very popular fashion choice is what I am calling The Superhero, tying the full-size flag with strings around your neck like a cape... a sort of Captain Catalunya? The Parliament of Catalunya building was open to the public so we had a wander around inside. Interestingly, the building and the park it is in (Ciutadella) was originally part of a fortress built, not to protect the city, but to maintain control of the rebellious Catalan population after the aforementioned War of Spanish Succession. We passed a troop of soldiers in re-enactment-style costumes with drums and muskets, but the real show was the parade. Whole families - from babies in strollers to grandparents with walking sticks - were chanting protests and singing nationalistic songs. Every road or alley we passed was packed with people streaming to or from the march. Final numbers vary, but an estimated 1.5 million people marched in Barcelona. When you consider the entirety of Catalunya is only 7.5 million, this meant that 20% of the population was there. Absolutely staggering! 

Whitewater rafting and canyoning in Sort (Spain)

Having sold our beloved car in the States, any time we get into one now seems like a special occasion. We headed further into Catalunya, driving northwest for 3 hours into the Pyrenees. The landscape was beautiful: golden with ripening fields of wheat, zigzagging in shallowly terraced strips, the occasional green vineyard, and dotted with monasteries and ruins. When we ordered a lavish array of tapas in the village of Tremp, the bill including drinks came to only 5 euros per person! It really hit home we weren't in Barcelona any more.

The tiny village of Sort, or "Luck" in Catalan, is famous for the lottery. The lottery, particularly the Christmas drawing, is hugely popular in Spain. In December, lines wrap around the block in the preceding weeks, and everybody plays, usually with colleagues from work (kind of like how nearly everyone in the States fills out a bracket or belongs to an office pool for March Madness). In a somewhat self-fulfilling prophecy, a store where the winning lottery ticket was purchased advertises the hell out of the boon and immediately increases future sales (and of course, the probability of more future wins). With a name like "Luck," many visitors to the mountain village purchase 2 souvenirs: a lottery ticket from the shop La Bruixa d'Or ("The Gold Witch") and a lucky witch doll. Rumor has it that the owners have capitalized so well on the mystique that the shop is only open in the 3 months before Christmas and spend the rest of the time jet-setting in their private yacht.

La Bruixa d'Or was closed so we opted for another kind of gamble - extreme sports! Marking another item off the bucket list, we went rafting on whitewaters of the Rio Noguera Pallaresa. During the beginning practice section on the river, what Rich describes as a "completely expected collision with a rock" sent me overboard into the literally breath-taking chilly waters. After floating downstream aways, I eventually got hauled in again. The dip made me very reluctant to revisit the experience, even during a practice drill for capsizing. Later, a couple of others in our crew also went for unintended swims, but everybody survived. Even when the raft caught some air a few times. The 3 hour trip navigating the Class III+ rapids was definitely invigorating! If only it didn't take us all about 6 hours to warm up again.  

This wasn't such a problem the next day. Clad in only an unflattering getup of helmets, swimsuits, and neoprene socks with sandals, we got plenty warm enough by hiking to the Sant Pere de las Malesas canyon. The first challenge of the day was just getting into our 5 mm wetsuits. A shoehorn wouldn't have gone amiss. We donned diaper-style harnesses, and away we went! Tramping through small pools and sliding down rocks, the physical challenge and fear didn't threaten to overwhelm me as it did when we tried canyoning in Turkey. Maybe this is because I conducted myself honorably in the two rappeling (= abseiling) sections this time. Actually I quite enjoyed the free jump from the waterfall and the "scoot down chicken-winged" section of a funnel. Rich, of course, wished it had been a little more extreme, but he was very grateful we didn't have to hike back in soaked wetsuits.    

La Mercè, Barcelona

La Mercè is the major Barcelona festival of the year, highlighting very Catalan traditions. Originally to commemorate the feast day of one of the city's patron saints, Our Lady of Mercy (24 September), the event has expanded to over three days of festivities. At the opening ceremonies on Thursday night, the huge papier maché figures known as gegants paraded and danced through the crowd in the old city. Over the weekend, the wines and cavas (sparkling wine) of Catalunya were exhibited in a festival along the harbour. Tasting was reasonably priced, and buying wines was pretty cheap - a reserve bottle for 6 euros!

Friday and Sunday we watched castellers representing each Barcelona neighborhood vie to construct the tallest human towers. The base is made with a sheer mass of castellers locked together (we should note that in our pictures, the first layer you see is actually the second level). Note the helmets on the kids - that's apparently because one child actually fell and died a few years back - and the castellers biting on their collars - that is so their shirt doesn't start to slip as someone is climbing up on their shoulders. It was an amazing spectacle... although admittedly, not for the faint of heart, as when the castellers start to shake and the tower begins to sway, the crowd is collectively holding its breath. We actually saw 2 different towers collapse, and everyone was okay, but seeing a pile of people including kids free fall from several stories high is just absolutely terrifying.

Another example of how gutsy - or crazy - Catalans can be is the Correfoc, or fire run. The Gates of Hell, ironically erected near the Cathedral, open with huge fireworks and drums booming. Diablos, again representing different neighborhoods, run around with torches and spray the crowds with fireworks. The streets are packed so ash and sparks are continuously falling on everyone, and apparently, later at night, the diablos actually start chasing people! In all fairness, the announcements for the Correfoc do actually carry a warning for wearing proper attire: long pants and long sleeve shirts of non-flammable material, hats, and goggles if you got'em (How is that for PPE?!).

The adjunct BAM festival hosted free concerts all three evenings in cool venues all over the city. We got to see Goldfrapp in the massive Parc del Forúm, Ok Go and Belle & Sebastian overlooking a historic Estrella Damm factory (brewed in Barcelona since 1876), and a couple of smaller bands next to a Christopher Colombus monument. One evening we went home at 3:30 am and were still considered early birds for it!

Even Pepper got a little into La Mercè festivities. The city park where we walk her was filled with special light displays, tapas stands, and a disco area. The fantastic laser show we wandered into near the entrance, which went off on its smoke and light display every few minutes, did make her suspicious.