First in a three-part series

When my wife Nicole and I were planning our honeymoon, we thought about going to a place we hadn’t been before, a place that would inspire us. It was a symbolic act, as marriage is an adventure into uncharted waters, so too would our first newlywed vacation.

After narrowing the choices, we decided on the coastal Mediterranean city of Barcelona, Spain. With its reputation as an art mecca (dozens of museums including popular ones devoted to Pablo Picasso and Joan Miro) and a thriving multicultural city that hosted the 1992 Summer Olympics, Barcelona lured us with her fantastical architecture of Antonio Gaudi, sandy beaches, and the chance to learn the language and customs of a foreign country. Based on several guidebooks (the best of them being Fodor’s), we put together a list of the major tourist attractions, parks and hot spots we wanted to see in a week’s time. After booking a small efficiency apartment in the Barceloneta district right near the beach, getting our passports in order, and stocking up on some euros for spending money, we counted down the days.

Barcelona: A brief history

Barcelona became, for me, a curious word, the kind of word you learn and then see all over the place. I gobbled up all I could about its history.

The city’s beginnings are full of legends — one claim is that mythological muscleman Hercules founded the city — but based on the archeological evidence, the area was probably first settled by Stone Age tribes and eventually taken over by the Romans, who created an outpost there around 200 B.C.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, Muslim Moors invaded from the south and dominated the Iberian Peninsula for two centuries before a Germanic army under Charlemagne’s son captured it from the north. Catalans stuck to a strong regional tradition, enduring plagues, religious reformations, Napoleon’s invasion, artistic renaissances, industrialization, and the Spanish Civil War before declaring itself an autonomous state within Spain just 30 years ago. This rich history and strong sense of keeping its culture reminded me of Appalachian culture, having endured its share of changes to continue its proud tradition of music, crafts, language and storytelling. The more I read about Barcelona, the more I decided we weren’t simply traveling to another country; we were traveling to a country within a country.

La Luna de Miel

Thanks to a flight delay in Philadelphia, we were rerouted to Madrid and flew in to Barcelona’s El Prat airport six hours later than expected. In a speeding taxi ride to the apartment, we were dazzled by statues, architecture, the rush of traffic (mostly motor scooters and compact cars), the thicket of masts along the waterfront of Port Vell.

Our apartment turned out to be a perfect location. Right across the street was a small grocery store, over a few blocks was the Metro station, and half a mile away was the beach. Exhausted after some 30-plus hours of traveling, we zonked out for a two-hour nap, then decided to check out the neighborhood and find dinner. Walking down the narrow streets to the beach — barely a car can fit through and apartment buildings with little balconies rise on either side — we passed cafés, shops, kids playing soccer, people walking home from work or the beach. The beach! Arriving just before sunset when most of the sunbathers had gone home and the boardwalk cafés and ice-cream stands had closed down, we had our first glimpse of the dark blue Mediterranean Sea, the epic sea of Homer’s Odyssey. The beach area was a sandy slope with lots of smooth rocks at the shoreline rather than seashells. And the water was freezing — even on 90-degree days as we would learn later in the week.

The Barceloneta section of the city where we were staying boasts some of the best seafood restaurants in town, so we strolled over to one on the nearest promenade and dug in to our first Catalan dinner — ensalada (salad), fresh fish (forget the fillets), and paella (a traditional Spanish dish of shrimp, chicken and seafood goodies on a bed of Saffron-spiced rice). “We’re on our honeymoon,” I told the waiter, to which he replied, “Ah, la luna de miel,” and then produced a few shots of peach schnapps to end our meal.

Catalan First, Spanish Second

Before the trip, people would ask us, “How much Spanish do you know?”

“Not much,” I’d reply.

Sure, I’d picked up the handful of words for necessary greetings, numbers and tips on basic pronunciation guides, but like most Americans who travel abroad, I expected to find English speakers. It’s one of the reasons Americans don’t have the best reputation abroad. Too often the flashy, Hollywood, fast-food image of America makes us the arrogant, spoiled little rich kids of the world when we go overseas. I made it my mission to be the polite American whenever possible to ease whatever stereotypes may be floating around these days. At the very least, a “gracias” (thank you), “si us plau” (Catalan for “thank you”), or “bon dia” (Catalan for “good day”), can go a long way.

Nevertheless, I was shamefully inadequate when it came to Spanish conversations concerning the simplest transactions. Quite often I’d be reduced to pointing at the item under question or nodding “ci” in agreement when sorting out the gist of a Spanish reply. The primary language in Barcelona is Catalan, a mix of Spanish and French that has lasted through many foreign and domestic invasions. In 1975, after the death of Spanish military dictator Gen. Francisco Franco, under whose rule Catalan culture was severely suppressed, Catalans set up their own Generalitat, or parliament, to self-govern themselves while agreeing to be part of the nation of Spain. Thus, on all the signs and general directions, literature, etc., you’ll find the Catalan version printed first and the Spanish version second.

Las Ramblas

No trip to Barcelona is complete without a walking tour of the city’s most famous avenue, so on our first full day of sightseeing, we opted to take a stroll down Las Ramblas, a tree-lined series of connected walkable avenues that start at Plaça de Catalunya (a pigeon-populated version of London’s Trafalgar Square) and extend about a mile down to the sea and over a waterfront bridge (Rambla del Mer).

It’s eye candy and people-watching heaven with dozens of newsstand kiosks, bountiful flower stands, exotic birds and fish for sale, shopping districts on either side and plenty of public entertainment for the tourists. There are dozens of human statues — people who paint themselves to look like all sorts of incarnations — an angel, a goblin, Elvis, Che Guevara, Humphrey Bogart, the Grim Reaper, a baby in a stroller. Some only move when you drop a coin in their bucket. Others welcome you to take a picture with them for a euro or whatever spare change you haven’t spent to buy postcards or tourist kitsch.

A tour through the fresh food market, La Boqueria, halfway down the Rambla is an adventure all by itself. A rainbow cornucopia of fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, breads, candies for sale in a bustling old-style European market. Beware: Las Ramblas can be prime real estate for pickpockets and shell game schemers who prey on gawking tourists walking slowly as they eye all the attractions.

Las Ramblas is lined with businesses and eateries. Globalism has brought in McDonald’s, Burger King and a three-story KFC, but the sycamore tree canopy and wide avenue lanes offer a picturesque view of the heart of Barcelona.

Down at the waterfront end of Las Ramblas is the Columbus Column, a tall tribute to the explorer who stands pointing toward the New World. Actually, he’s pointing toward North Africa. Today’s Barcelona is home to a busy cruise industry, and the city is a stop on many Mediterranean cruise tours. There are also Golondrinas, ferry boats that take visitors out on water rides.

Walking hand in hand back to Barceloneta, we passed scores of yachts docked in the harbor. Steamy smells of seafood and salt air floated through the humid air. A giant lobster statue greeted us. Windsurfers and parasailers glided over the sea in the distance. Barcelona and her many sights continued to delight, inspire, and bedazzle us.

(Michael Beadle can be reached at mbeadle@haywood.k12.nc.us. Next week: Barcelona: City of Gaudi.)