Day 32 ~ Barsicklona

Well, Daniel and I are both nursing a very weird illness with nearly identical symptoms. It started as a cold that just seemed to linger longer than expected, and now we’re starting on Week 2 of feeling just really unwell. There’s nothing COVID-like about it, so we’re pretty sure it’s not that, but we are both just completely out-of-sorts and largely checked out of our time in Barcelona so far. We are making the best of it, but our track record of covering lots of territory has really dropped off. We’ve been watching The Last of Us, and we’re pretty sure this is the process you go through when infected with Cordyceps, so expect us to come back ravenous for human flesh. Told you Europe would change us.

Today we started with a good night of sleep, which has been rare during this phase of things, and were cheered by the excellent breakfast served by our hotel. Things seemed to be coming along…but we weren’t feeling great…then less great…then finally we collapsed in our bed until 2pm.

Eventually we did rally our way out the door, with the plan to stay close to the hotel if we really flamed out. This, it turns out, was extremely fun to do. Our location in the Barrio Gotico is absolutely amazing, and we could hardly have lucked into better, particularly with the Merce festival happening. The crooked narrow streets with their balconies are absolutely medieval, and there is an alleyway beckoning you everywhere you turn.

We’ve been having weird migraine-like reactions to the sun, and the dark streets of Gotico have been perfect for us. But we popped out of the cozy streets into the revelation of a sunlit vista when we hit the waterfront, which we braved the light to go see…briefly. We saw Montjuic Castle up on the hill:

And saw waterfront carnival rides and cruise ships from afar. It was an incredibly beautiful day, not too hot, with a slight breeze, and people were enjoying the perfect weather.

We found the post office! Word on the streets is, it’s a holiday, so it was closed, but we desperately hope this is a working post office we can see the inside of.

We had paella at a cafe in the shadow of the post office called El Cafè de la Casa de les Lletres, while young people ate their sandwiches on the steps of the Correo.

Back into the shady lanes of Gotico, we meandered around, and decided that no Merce celebration would be complete without a visit to La Basílica de la Mercè. We’d been to Sagrada Familia, but you couldn’t call it a traditional Spanish church – we assume this is more typical, and it had a familiarity that was very inviting. Being more acquainted with Mexican Catholicism than Belgian Catholicism, for instance, the visual style seemed more recognizable. This being a temple to Mary, it had a cluttered, cozy feel like your grandmother’s house, instead of the austere majesty of some of the northern churches.

We made a spontaneous stop for xurros and xocolat (more familiar to us as churros and chocolate) opting for a Spanish dessert instead of gelato – for once. It was outstanding.

We made our way back to the Plaza de St. Jaume, the scene of our fun pageant of the giants last night. Today, there was a live orchestra, and community dancers. Dozens of groups had clearly been learning these dances for a long time, knew all the steps, and young and old hit their marks and nailed the finale. It was neat to see.

Every day for the past couple of weeks, we go to bed thinking we will get a good night of sleep and wake up new people. Every day, that’s not what happens. It has to happen eventually, right? Barcelona deserves more from us.