Barcelona: Sweet and Sour

Hopping on the train I get my first scare in Spain. As the doors close I hear Be-wa-ep Be-wa-ep Be-wa-ep. Sounding like an emergency evacuation siren the 'warning - doors closing' sound is a slight overkill!

The train drops me in Pl. Catalunya and as I look around I recall the nightmare of the previous night. Everything seems so peaceful now.

Walking La Rambla I find buskers/human statues lined up one after another. Watching, I observe each act, some very clever while others primitive. One guy - dressed as smeagol from Lord of the Rings - has a great costume and makeup but puts zero effort into his people interactions. As a small group mill around waiting for 'the punch line' one tourist takes out his phone to snap a few photos. Instantly smeagol drops his act and shouts:

"No photo! give Moooneeeey, got it!"

The knife edge of Tourism.

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Without a doubt Goudi work takes first prize for Barcelona's architecture. Visiting Sagrada Familia I cant help but marvel at the fine detailed work. You can gaze for hours at each sculpture - its no wonder that its been over 100 yrs in construction and still not complete! :)

As I Walk all sides of the building I see the queue for entry winding its way around the corner and down the street - an endless queue of hot frustrated tourists. As I try to pass by the crowd a woman in front of me screams at her child:

Look at how long this queue is!

You should have got out of bed when I told you!

- Long Sigh -

We're going to be standing here for hours because of you!

In my mind, a cartoon image of God suddenly appears - popping out of a fluffy white cloud and bopping the woman on the head: "Bad parent!"

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From Goudi's House in Park Guell I see a white balcony jutting out, with long elegant concrete columns beneath. People relax beneath in shaded comfort while others on top sweat like I in the scorching midday sun. Heading for the shade I'm caught in a maze of paths, none of which seem to lead me any closer to my destination. Persisting I strike lucky "two steps forward, one step back" style, and arrive under the great canopy.

Two musicians play classics, and I cant help but sit and listen, mesmerised by the ambiance that surrounds me. Pausing for a break I decide that any group holding my attention this long deserves my support, and on that note I buy their CD.

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The 'magic fountain'

As 9pm draws closer the crowd swells; each row of steps filling with people. As the clock strikes 9 a jet of water shoots up to lick the clouds before falling hard to the pond below. More follow and as the pond fills it cascades over and down channels to the next fountain. Bubbling into life we witness a similar display with excess water flowing closer and closer to the master 'magic fountain'.

A silence falls upon the crowd - surely the time is now. Then whoosh, the magic fountain explodes with life shooting long jets of water high into the air. Blasting from large speakers music accompanies the dancing water.

To the sound of Bocelli's booming voice a fine mist rises high above us then falls sharply as his voice breaks off.

From a distance the fountain is visibly appealing, but up close upon its outer edge the experience is thrilling. You can not simply watch - you become part of the experience. You can feel the fountains power, and as the children are drawn in closer you too step forward.

Now only metres from the fountain staring at its beauty we marvel as the water rises before -with shocked faces - the mist falls and everyone turns to run. The screams of those not fast enough catch up to us, before we too are showered. Looking around, people pull at their damp t-shirts, laugh and comment while clutching at their fast beating hearts.

Photos from Barcelona!