Rambling in Barcelona

Sean and I enjoyed a trip-of-a-lifetime Mediterranean cruise for our honeymoon. I've already blogged about some of the fun we had in Venice here. Today I've been thinking about Barcelona…

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Because it was the final port of our two week trip, we feared we might be too exhausted to explore another city, but Barcelona turned out to be a surprising treat.

After checking in at the Hotel Barcelona we decided to head first to La Sagrada Familia, the Roman Catholic basilica worked on by Antonio Guadi. Although this work of art is still in development, it was magnificent to see.

Then we sauntered down Las Ramblas, Barcelona’s famous pedestrian walkway lined with restaurants, shops, street vendors and performers. I love people-watching, and Las Ramblas was a fabulous place for this diversion.

We had lunch in a Spanish fast food restaurant. What I really wanted was some real deal, bona fide Spanish fare.

“I want to eat in a place where I have no idea what the menu says.”

Well, we were in the middle of a tourist trap, so although we did find some Spanish food, the prices were high. And the menu included big photos of the food next to the names. No matter… I was most interested in people watching from the windows upstairs while we ate and sipped sangria.

We found a table on the second floor that overlooked the river of people and colorful markets on the street below.

Then we decided to explore the Barri Gotic (Gothic Quarter), the older section of the city.

After weaving our way through narrow passages and graffiti covered alleyways, we came upon an archway over the street which was illuminated perfectly by the moody light.

It was then, reaching for my camera, that I realized my bag was not on my shoulder. I’d left it in the restaurant. Besides my precious camera, the bag contained all of my identification, the very same identification that I would need to board the plane in the morning and return to New York.

We ran. We ran up the winding alleys and passageways and through crowds of weekend shoppers. We were gasping for breath but we didn’t stop.

Since Las Ramblas is a haven for pickpockets, I didn’t hold much hope for finding my little brown backpack. The thought of being stuck in Barcelona made my chest tighten up and my head feel dizzy – I hadn’t seen my daughter in two weeks! But I kept running. So did Sean.

We could see the restaurant up ahead. Sean was bee-lining for it; I was scanning the crowd on the street as we neared our lunchtime eatery. If anyone was holding my bag…

We dashed up the stairs to the second floor of the restaurant. There next to the windows was a woman, an employee of the restaurant, holding up my bag for me and smiling.

“Gracias! Thank you so much! Muchas gracias!”

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For dinner, we had reserved a spot at Tablao Flamenco Cordobés for a dinner buffet and flamenco show.


The dinner was an enormous buffet of Mediterranean specialities, and I was intent on sampling each one. The quality far surpassed what one usually expects from a buffet-style dinner. Everything was delicious! And the attentive wait staff ensured that the wine and champagne glasses never emptied.

After dinner we were lead into an adjoining room full of ladderback chairs snugly surrounding a small stage.


The tiny theater was engulfed in the din of many languages until we heard that first sensual strum of the guitar.


From that moment on, we were mesmerized.

Each dancer had their solo time on stage as the others sang and clapped.


They stamped; they frowned; they made intense eye contact with the crowd.


Their gestures were bold and passionate, their steps intricate and concise.

We were close enough to the stage to see the sweat beading up on their brows as they exuberantly performed their numbers.




The energy was intoxicating.


Each dance intensified with colorful spins and stomps and strums from the guitar until building up the final swing of the arm, stamp of the foot, and shouts from the crowd of “Ole!”

What an experience! We would love to return someday.