I don’t feel that I have captured the social aspects of this city, which are considerable, and pleasant. What a nice place, perhaps I will never be back before I die, but if not — (as with many other places, like Saigon and Tallinn and Berlin) — that will be a shame. Viva Barcelona. There are many worse places to hang out.
On the hill of Montjuïc, which rises between Barcelona’s city centre and the port, there is the site of the 1992 Olympics, much of it feeling rather neglected these days. When we first saw this place my initial thought was that it was something to do with the Olympic village, rows of concrete blocks with what seemed like dark windows in them, all looking strangely moody. Closer inspection revealed why: in fact they were these mausoleums, piled on top of each other like apartments arranged into streets and avenues, with stepladders here and there so families can reach the highest. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before except, to some extent, at Novodevichy in Moscow, but even that doesn’t quite reach this level of stacking.
Two football matches for me today and you might as well have one of them, as the views at both were good — more wide-raning at the first of the day (CE L’Hospitalet) but the close-packed urban scene at UE Sant Andreu was still a good-looking one. A packed crowd of 6,000 — excellent numbers for fifth-tier football. It might not be the Camp Nou but you know, I really do prefer this kind of thing.
I suppose I am reasonably well-travelled but this is still only my third-ever trip to Spain, the most recent being in about 2007 for a conference (hence before the start of this blog), and the first being in 1991 when I went inter-railing round Europe and went to Madrid and a couple of the cities in the south. But I never visited Barcelona, and Clare hadn’t done so either, and so when we were thinking about a destination for an Easter break, this was suggested and so here we are.
When in this place, everyone comes to see this building, don’t they? But I’m not sure I actually like it. It’s fantastic, unique, for sure, but it’s also somewhat mad, excessive, lacking in grace and beauty (something not true of St Basil’s, which could also be accused of excess). The other Gaudi buildings in the city are more attractive. It’s just a personal opinion based on a quick first impression, so don’t listen to me though. I suppose that one indication of the impression is that the cranes poking out of the top look at first like they may be a deliberate part of the design. It has been under construction for 140 years now, and still isn’t finished. Heaven knows what might still be to come.
To cake or not to cake, that is the question, at the end of not just a working week but a whole term — I’m on my Easter break. Unless the French air traffic controllers stymie the deal, the next few posts should come from a country that has not yet appeared on this blog.
Actually this photo started out as more of a picture through the window I sat before, as I had lunch: but maybe it’s subconsciously significant that it didn’t work out that way. I like the ‘cut up’ or collage effect: very Cubist.
These are not my tools. Six days we’ve been working on the problem, fruitlessly. Get a professional in and it’s sorted two hours later.
I despise litter, but sometimes there is, if not beauty, at least interest in it: frankly it’s amazing what gets chucked away. What these ceramic roses had been doing somewhere on or near Abingdon Street in Manchester, I have no idea, and whether they were broken first, then disposed of, or whether the breaking happened because they were chucked, who knows. Either way, call it my homage to the cover of the classic New Order albun, Power Corruption and Lies.
This amount of light, sunshine and relative warmth at 5pm are definite signs of spring. The equinox is past us, the nights are only getting longer. Not that Gus looks all that happy about it.
Made one of my occasional forays into the sports media world. High enough to be obliged to display the corporate sponsorship, although no endorsement of any product is implied…. Emma Hayes is by now surely the longest-serving manager in any of the senior English football leagues (having been in charge of Chelsea in the Women’s Super League since 2012, and won it the last three seasons), but she presided over defeat today, 2-0 to Manchester City. In the press room afterwards: “Q: What went wrong today, Emma?” “A: We lost.” Nailed it.
Being 42 