Barcelona

From Berlin we took a direct train to Bielefeld, the site of a British military installation, to visit Nigel and Moira, parents of Libby, our son's partner. This was our second time scrounging off them. I think they are getting to know us. The four of us had planned a quick visit to Barcelona so after three days of visiting Bielefeld (including a trip to the Thermalbad - textilefrei saunas, German style) we hopped a Germanwings budget flight to Barna (slang for Barcelona). Here's a plug for Germanwings - best legroom ever!

We arrived in Barna at two-ish, during the hottest part of the day. The humidity was 100% and the sun was blazing. The walk from the airport to the train, through a glass enclosed elevated walkway, made me feel like a dog in a car on a hot Ottawa day. That was just the beginning. The most difficult part of the move from Bielefeld to Barna was the ground move from the airport to the flat. After the trek through the glass over pass, we fought our way onto a commuter train into the city. It was also quite crowded, but air-conditioned. 

Air conditioned train.

It was wonderful. We had to change trains in the middle of Barna to get on a southbound tube. The walk from one to the other was incredibly long. The tunnel we were walking in was barely high enough for me to stand up straight. There were hundreds of hot tired tourists plodding along in the 100% humidity and foetid air of the passageway. After what seemed like an eternity we got to the end and burrowed even further down looking for our train. We were tropical moles. 

When we got to our stop we emerged into the street only to find that the skies had clouded over, the wind had picked up and rain was on the way. We walked to the Barri Gotic, where we were staying, and found a small cafe to wait for our host. While we sat there, everyone else went into panic mode, grabbed all their stuff and ducked underneath anything they could find. How bad could it get, we thought. What's all the fuss. Seconds later it was tropical moles in a mediterranean rain squall.

Welcome to Barcelona!

A few minutes later our hostess arrived (by bicycle) and let us into the flat. It was terrific. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, nice kitchen, fully equiped with everything from dishwasher to dryer. And, best of all, it was air-conditioned!

Things were looking up! We signed the papers, stashed our kit and headed out for tapas and sangria. The rain had stopped, the streets were clean and full of people, and we were in Barcelona.

Our goal in Barna was to spend a day visiting the touristy stuff (Sagrada Familia, the beach, the Barri Gotic and the Rambla), then spend the rest of the time exploring. We did that. The Sagrada Familia had a zillion people there doing the same thing.

The building is the most exotic and ugly homage to religion ever. I couldn't help but wonder if Gaudi was making fun of the church. Christ with a block head?

From there we walked the 4 or 5 kilometers up to Parc Guell. We hoped that we would beat the crowds, but that was not to be. The lines were huge. The price was ridiculous and the sun was blazing. We had a quick stroll into the free part, snapped a couple pics and bailed. I'll have to Google Parc Guell.

The lines to buy tickets.

From there we walked back down the hill towards the city center. We passed many more people heading up. I wonder if they all went in?

We went to the beach.

The beach is interesting. Apparently Barcelona in particular, and Catalonain general, have made a huge effort in recent years to clean up the beaches and the water and make the place more hospitable. There is even an app for Spanish beach conditions: PlatgesCat. The app will tell you all the stuff you need to know about the beaches. Unfortunately for us it was saying that there was no guarantee of the quality of the water that day. That was good enough for me to stay out, not my darling wife though.

Oh well. 

My favourite part of Barcelona is the food and the architecture. No matter where you are, when you look up there is something interesting to see.

When you get tired of looking up, look around. There is a place to eat in every second doorway. Once you are away from the beach and the Rambla, food is cheap and delicious. Tapas are available everywhere. They are generally small portions of something tasty. The word tapas means tops. They were originally small pieces of bread with something savoury on top used to put on top of your drink to keep the flies out. (And I thought it meant "snacks" or something like that.) 

The hams and cured meats (charcouterie) of Catalonia are unparalleled. Some of the hams in the picture are 99€ a pound. The guy told me that the hams take years to cure. They use special black pigs fed on olives and acorns. The best is Jamon Serrano or Jamon Iberico. Fabulous!

Little cones of ham chunks.

Barcelona is a special place. The architecture and the food are unlike anywhere else, but there is probably a better time to visit. I understand that even the Barcelonians leave the city in August because of the heat and the tourists. If we were to go again we would research a better time.

Berlin, the Schizophrenic City

As incredible as it sounds, in 1931 Berlin, with a population of 4.3 million, was the third largest city in the world after London and New York (Berlin - Then and Now, Nick Gay, 2013). I had to put a reference because I couldn't believe that stat either. Berlin currently has a population of 3.5 million. Why the difference? 

Berlin has a fascinating recent history. After WW II, the city (previously the capital of the Weimar Republic (1919-1933), and then the capital of the Third Reich (1933-1945), was divided by the Western Allies, and the Soviet Union, into East and West Berlin. East Berlin was the capital of the German Democratic Republic (GDR), while West Berlin "became a political enclave" of the Federal Republic of Germany (Germany) completely surrounded by the GDR. 

Of course Germany was more fun than the GDR, more successful economically, and a better place to live, so East Berliners left the GDR in droves through West Berlin to live the good life. By 1960, three and a half million East Germans had left, more the 90% through West Berlin. The GDR caught on and on August 13, 1961 erected what we now know as the Berlin Wall - overnight. The wall completely surrounded West Berlin in the hope of making defection from East Berlin impossible.

It was pretty effective. This is what Brandenburg Gate looked like in 1976 when it was right in the midddle of the "death zone" between the two walls that separated East and West Berlin:

Here is what it looked like this week:

Nancy is standing right where the wall was on the western side.

So what does this all have to do with Berlin's schizophrenic personalty?

For the 28 years that the wall stood (1961-1989), the demographic layout of Berlin changed. The section of wall that ran through the middle of Berlin (Berlin-Mitte) effectively cut the best part of Berlin in half. After the wall went up, those parts of the city closest to the wall became undesirable places to live. Specifically Kreuzberg, near Oberbaumbrücke, because it was walled on three sides, became the least desirable part of West Berlin to live in and was settled by workers from outside the country (typically Turks) brought in to rebuild West Berlin. 

The wealthy and the important all lived farther from the wall (on both sides) in nicer areas like Charlottenburg. When the wall came down in 1989 all the places along the part of the wall running through Mitte and Kreuzberg once again became the center of the city, and they have now become very trendy fashionable places to be. And, because they are still full of eastern Europeans and because they don't have the glitz and charm of the wealthy places like Potsdam (East - not on the map) and Charlottenburg (West), they are still very cheap places to stay and eat and live. 

The area around Mitte, Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain (originally on the other side of the wall from Kreuzberg) are awful looking. There is graffiti everywhere, many of the buildings are run down, the sidewalks are uneven cobblestones, and it is generally a rough looking part of town. That look is completely misleading. 

Don't let graffiti put you off. Graffiti is a huge part of the sub-culture of Berlin. The wall only had graffiti on one side (the west). The eastern side of the wall was the death zone. The buildings also only had graffiti on them in West Berlin near the wall (because it was the low rent area). The subject of the graffiti (other than the tags) was generally political commentary about a unified Germany. The punishment for graffiti on the east side was much more severe and much more likely than on the west side. Think Siberia. When the wall came down, gray, dull East Berlin became an empty canvas of opportunity for graffitists from both sides of the wall, in fact from around the world. Graffiti exploded. Because Berlin (and Germany) were economically stretched from the various challenges to complete the reunification process, small things like graffiti just didn't matter. There was no money to spend on cleanup, much less catching the perps of the basically victimless crime. (Many of the buildings were uninhabited or in ruins.)

Same two buildings from the other side - schizo!

Similarily, the bleakness of that part of the city will be there until the buildings are renovated. The dull gray crumbling block construction apartments on the east side and along the area of the wall will remain ugly until some enterprising Berliner buys them and fixes them up (they are incredibly cheap). The sidewalks will stay uneven cobbles (with the names of murdered Jews every few meters), not like the smooth groomed sidewalks of Potsdam, maybe forever as a reminder of the notorious past.

But that strange episode in Berlin's history is why the place is schizo. Once you get past the façades of the buildings the people and places are wonderful. Inside those dull gray buildings are terrific hotels, apartments, stores, restaurants and galleries. The change as you go through a doorway is often shocking. 

The contrast of the old and new is very nice.  If you get tired of exploring Mitte and Kreuzberg (it'll take a long time) there is always the rest of Berlin. Charlottenburg is a testament to globalization. You can wander from McDonalds to the North Face store and have a Starbucks on the way. (The Macdonalds they put in Kreuzberg has its windows smashed every time there is some kind of protest. The Subway they put in didn't sell a single sandwich, and it was shut down shortly after opening.)

Beyond Charlottenburg you can head out into what was the East German countryside, perhaps for a swim at Wannasee (where Hitler and his hencmen came up with "The Final Solution").

Perhaps a day trip to Sanssouci Palace in Potsdam, a UN Heritage Site (and where the Allies divided up Germany. This palace was the summer home of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia. Sanssouci means "without worries". I'm surprised it isn't the center of the Aussi "no worries, mate" philosophy.

The palace and garden.

A little shed for evening jam sessions.

He even had fake ruins built for him to hike up to and look at. 

Berlin is one of my favourite cities ever. It seems to be changing very fast though. If you wanna catch it while it's still a bit raw and inexpensive, then you'd better go soon. The word is out. (Yes, I'm partly to blame.) "Ich bin ein Berliner!" (John F. Kennedy -1963 and Gary J. Davis - 2014)

The amazing flat we rented in Berlin

$100 a night - fabulous! Thanks Airbnb: https://www.airbnb.co.uk

http://youtu.be/xcTFMxU1gK8

Amsterdam

London was as good as ever. For our last day there we thought we would go see Marina Abramović do one of her installations. There was quite a queue outside so rather than take a chance we asked a couple who had waited, and visited, their impression. They gave us an earful. Apparently the deal started with a warning that you couldn't take anything into the show with you, and you couldn't leave until your tour was over. Once you got inside they put noise cancelling headphones on everyone and everyone (including the artist) stood there without moving or making any noise until they told you it was over.  That was it.

We didn't wait in line.

From there we Boris biked straight down to Sloan Square and the Chelsea Market. Guess what we saw:

Yup! Chelsea pensioners! My life is complete, the world now makes sense.

We also saw a world I can only dream of. Expensive cars (BD9s everywhere, the odd Ferrari and Lambo making lots of noise), fabulous food and perfectly dressed people. We fit right in.

Magic shoes!

Enough of London, that evening we caught the train out of Liverpool Street for Harwich and our ride to the Hook of Holland. We had booked the overnight ferry (one less room to rent) and the trains. We left London at 1800 and got into Amsterdam at noon the next day, well rested and piqued with curiosity looking for fun.

Our crib in Amsterdam was another great Airbnb find. It was a very modern one bedroom flat in the Science Park, just outside the center of the city. It was a ten minute bus ride into Centraal Station or about 20 minutes by bike. The flat came with two omafiets (grandma bikes), the classic Dutch bicycle. Woohoo!

Just after arriving we rode away from town to get the feel of the bikes, and bike paths, and we had a fabulous time. We discovered an old war ruin that had been turned into an outdoor club and they had a cuban jazz band playing. Of course we stopped and sampled the wine on offer. 

The next day was dedicated to finding, and eating, at our favourite restaurant from our previous visit (boring I know, also a good opportunity for the god of anticipointment to rear his ugly head). The place is called Kantjil, which is Dutch for tiger, and that is all we could remember - "tiger". Nevertheless, we found it and sat down to a traditional Indonesian rijsttafel (rice table). It was deelish! No disappointment there, just fine spicey food. The best part is the wierd combination of peanut butter, sambal and pickled cucumber. Nothing but good! The restaurant was celebrating its 25th anniversary!

Amsterdam, of course there were bikes everywhere. In case you didn't notice, I love bikes. Here are a few interesting ones I saw:

Complete wooden bike.

Van Moof with pink tires. The front and rear light are built into the top tube. They ship to Canada for free!

How not to lock your bike. I'm guessing there was another bike nearby with no front wheel.

Amsterdam was fun!

Dinner out in London

Dining out in London is fraught with risk. There are thousands of places to choose from. Prices can be very high, and even the cheap spots are expensive. Often the food is very mediocre (what do you expect when chips are generally served with everything from fish to curry). The reviews and comments online can be very deceiving; they are often posted by the restaurant owners themselves. The one thing you really need is someone with good taste, a similar budget to your own, and a sense of adventure, in order to point you in the right direction when you get hungry in London. Rob and Jess were just that. These two recent graduates from Goldsmiths' Masters of Fine Arts program were our foodie tour guides for an evening of restaurant adventures.

Our evening started with a tube and "overground" train ride to Peckham Rye far to the southeast of London city centre. When we got off the train we were a bit taken aback by the sights and smells of this corner of London. Rough I would say.

We spent a few minutes wandering around the area near the train station wondering what the dining experience was going to be like. Rob arrived shortly after us and quickly whisked us away (on foot) to Frank's Cafe for drinks and to wait for his partner in gastronom, Jess.

http://frankscafe.org.uk

Frank's Cafe was pretty unique. To get there we walked around the back of an abandoned multi-story car park and entered through a beat up steel emergency exit door. It looked more like the kind of place where a drunk would piss than the entrance to a trendy eatery.

We climbed the stairs to the floor just short of the roof where we were met by a well-dressed security guard who gave us the once over then let us through. We walked through the abandoned parking stalls to the point where cars would be driving up onto the roof and walked up the ramp where we wre again given the once over by security.

Again we breezed through purely on our good looks. When we got to the roof this is what we saw:

It was the most unique spot for a place to drink and eat ever. The views were fabulous, the Shard, the Gherkin, Olympic Park, the Ferris Wheel, St Pauls and all the rest of London was at our feet. Jess joined us shortly after we arrived. We chucked back a couple fine ales and got up to go, but not before a quick visit to the loo:

Yup! That's what they were, outhouses on the top of a parking garage in London. 

The adventure had begun. Our young tour guides were doing a fabulous job.

Dinner was next. Down through the empty parking stalls we went, back through the alleys and back onto the train. We went even farther out of town to the Catford Constitutional Club.

http://catfordconstitutionalclub.com

I'm not sure where we got off the train. I'm not even sure what train we were on! 

A short walk from the station, down a short back alley, took us into the most rundown building I have ever legally entered.

The paper was peeling off the walls, a chunk of the ceiling had collapsed, and the stairs looked like only one person should go up at a time.

But, the joint was full of people enjoying what looked to be great food. Another nice surprise.

Jess and I ordered Broiled Bream and veggies with a side of posh fries (yes, "posh" fries. Fries covered in parmesan cheese and sprinkled with truffle oil - to die for). Nancy ordered papardelle with cabbage, peas and cheese, and Rob went for some kind of chicken dish. It was all fantastic. We swilled a couple bottles of Viognier and finished with shared brownies and peanut butter ice-cream. 

What a night! Our dining out experience, expertly guided by Rob and Jess, was superb. It made one realize what great things can happen in urban wastelands if creative people are given room to work. 

If you ever are in London and want a unique dining experience, don't go to these restaurants. They probably won't be there any more, but Rob and Jess will, and they can take you to the next "special" place to pop up.

Bristol

It was a big change going from a quiet town of 20,000 to a vibrant city with over a million in its Larger Urban Zone (LUZ). 

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larger_Urban_Zone

Bristol has been around a long time. According to Wikipedia (a perfectly reliable source) Bristol received its Royal Charter in 1155. The Port of Bristol has almost been here forever, and dispite the many attempts to flatten it, Bristol has survived and it is a wonderful contrast of the old and new. The city centre is a large new car free area (yes, car free again) of several blocks called Cabot Circus. All around the Circus the old Bristol still exists. Buy a take out salad in Tesco Express and eat it in a 500 year old church yard across the street. Just can't be done on the other side of the Atlantic.

Bristol is a very hilly city making walking interesting and sometimes challenging. The Avon river cuts a big gorge through the area. There are several fabulous viewpoints. It is also the spritual home of cider, but we talked about that side of Brizzle in a previous blog posting after our last visit:

http://eurodash2011.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/bristol.html

This time I want to talk about the fabulous street art and festival atmosphere that we experienced. We visited (and scrounged a bed from our friends Jon, Fliss and Will) the weekend of St. Paul's Carnival. This seems to be Brizzle's answer to Mardi Gras.  Like any big festival in a large city, St Paul's has had its problems. This year was no different:

http://www.bristolpost.co.uk/St-Paul-s-Carnival-Man-seriously-injured-separate/story-21335420-detail/story.html

Our hosts (minus Will).

But that was not the Carnival that we saw. The five of us bused downtown (no parking). We arrived before noon and watched the parade assemble and then watched it march off through the St Paul part of Bristol. It was a colourful and fun family event. There were loads of children marching and tens of thousands of people watching.

Young Will, heir apparent to the Hawkins throne, loved all the pomp, music and bluster. I particularily enjoyed the participants at the bitter end of the parade.

The food in the park at the center of the St Paul area was fabulous. You could find everything from jerked chicken to piri-piri. Cider (and beer) was flowing freely. (The city permits people to wander the streets of downtown Bristol with open drinks during this festival, sort of Bourbon Street with a West Country accent.) 

Even beyond the boundaries of St Paul, large groups of people were strolling with bevies in hand. Great during the day, but as you saw, not so good late at night.

We returned downtown the next day and there was almost no sign of the 100,000 people that had partied on the streets the day before. We went wandering around the Stokes Croft district looking at street art and searching for signs of Banksy. We found a few of his pieces, but they were well worn and fading. Such is the nature of graffiti or street art. 

There were lots of signs of Banksy's influence, and it seemed the city was condoning, or even encouraging street art. That was both good and bad.

I think a well done piece of street art is a wonderful way to cheer up concrete. 

Bristol was, once again, a great visit. Thanks to the tips and hospitality of Jon, Fliss and Will, we had a great time exploring this fabulous city.