La Capital de Catalunya

I spent almost two months in Barcelona, but I really can't say much about the city. I spent most of my time working, and we did a quick tour in Portugal. I saw very little beyond the immediate neighborhood around my apartment. I walked past la Sagrada Familia and a couple of Gaudi houses almost every day, but I never went inside any of them. In another neighborhood, I took the telefèric up to Castell de Montjuic. But I don't know anything about the castle's history. I do know there are great views of the city from the castle and cable car. I think the most time I spent outside of work was at el Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. The building and grounds were works of art as much as the collections inside. At the top of a lot of steps, it also had great views.

The people in residential areas were friendly, but the more crowded areas had too many tourists. The first time I went to la Rambla was a Saturday night, so I thought that was why it was so crowded. I went again on a Wednesday morning and it was almost as bad. I think there are simply some parts of Barcelona that are unbearable no matter what time or day.

You would think living in Hong Kong made me immune to immense crowds, but there is something oddly different about Chinese overpopulation compared to overcrowding in places like Europe and North America. It is almost comfortable in China. Maybe not comfortable. Tolerable might be a better word. Trudging through an endless river of bodies in Europe is one of my least favorite ways to spend the day. Other than la Boqueria, I did not see much reason to visit la Rambla. Unless you like overpriced shopping. La Boqueria was a loud little market, infinitely better in the morning than later in the day. It reminded me of le Marché Provençal in Antibes. It was nice, but far from the best local market in the world. That would be Mahane Yehuda in Jerusalem.

The Barcelona metro (el Metro de Barcelona) was efficient, but there does not seem to be a smart card system like Hong Kong's octopus or Tokyo's Pasmo. There were a million different ticket types, so I just went with the monthly pass. Much like Paris, every station required walking up and down multiple flights of stairs, with only the occasional escalator. I don't know how people in wheelchairs get around. Europe has some amazing looking cities to walk around, as long as your body is fully functional.

Unfortunately, I can't say anything about the food. I ate plenty of it. I usually eat a lot while rehearsing, and maybe a little less between shows, so I used to have plenty of opinions about the food around me. In Barcelona, I had some empanadas, escalivada, and a lot of potatoes, mostly with aioli. I don't think you are allowed to eat potatoes without aioli in Barcelona I ate paella because you have to when you are in Spain. That's another law. And tapas, of course. You can't walk two blocks in Barcelona without running into a tasca or tapas bar. There were a lot of tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant and peppers in practically everything. Before this trip, I could not remember the last time I ate eggplant. In Barcelona, I can't remember a day without it. The city is on the Mediterranean, so there was plenty of olive oil everywhere. No hummus, though. That was disappointing. I'm sure there is some somewhere, but I never saw any.

I don't know what anything tasted like, but most of the food looked familiar. Empanadas are essentially the same as sambousek. Dough stuffed with food is pretty common all over the world. Paella is Spanish jambalaya. Tapas and dim sum are the same concept. I had crema catalana in Barcelona, which is crème brulee, and pastel de nata in Portugal, which is available at bakeries all over Macau and Hong Kong.

Interestingly enough, tortillas in Barcelona are nothing like Mexico. They are omelettes, frittatas or any similar egg dish. I saw a sign for tortillas at one of the stalls at la Boqueria and thought about bringing some back to the apartment to use later. The stall owner was confused when I wanted a dozen. I was pretty sure it was not a language issue. I know that doce means twelve, and I know what a tortilla is. Or so I thought. When he held up a large plate of an even larger omelette, I learned what a tortilla is in Spain. I never found any Mexican tortillas, under any name, in any of the grocery stores. I guess they never confuse the two if they only have one.

I can't say much about the beaches. October/November is not ideal beach weather and I only went once. It looked like it was going to rain the entire day, so the only people out beyond the promenade were the surfers. It is probably a nice area during summer.

Shopping is ridiculously easy in Barcelona. My apartment was between a large Carrefour and a small Condis. There were tiny 24H convenience stores every two blocks in every direction. They all seemed to be owned and/or operated by Arabs, which only reminded me of Apu and the stereotype of certain minority groups covering certain occupations. We don't see a lot of that where I live. In China, every 7-Eleven is staffed by Chinese people. Every taxi driver is Chinese. Every gardener is Chinese. The richest people, and those who do all the work for them, are all Chinese.

The apartment was in a residential neighborhood, but only a few blocks from la plaça de Catalunya, probably the most important plaza in the city. As far as I could tell, plaça de Catalunya is the shopping, entertainment and transportation hub of the entire city. It is surrounded by shopping malls, department stores and pedestrian malls. Several museums are just north of the square, with theaters and churches in every direction. You can catch several different L trains, a few R trains and dozens of buses, including the airport express bus. Most importantly, it had a Tim Hortons.

La Boqueria is the famous market, just south of plaça de Catalunya and a 20 minute walk from the apartment. But there are less crowded options at el Mercat de la Concepció, just off el Passeig de Gràcia, and el Mercat de Santa Caterina, a few blocks from the Cathedral. Unlike Paris, Barcelona does not close on Sundays. There was no reason to go hungry, so I never did.