tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15743098465392540162024-03-05T21:59:57.073+01:00From BarcelonaThe city, the life and the people.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger199125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-8973854750479974732013-04-18T10:51:00.001+02:002013-04-20T08:29:05.967+02:00Three Years Later...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been having a recurring dream of sitting at the terrace of a <i>cutre </i>bar with no name on the corner of Via Laietana and Plaça Urquinaona. I drink a beer and people watch with the cast of characters I met living there as time passes slowly.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb2PnslTFs_quW0MF9bshWVJgfNags7XCUTAB6hSLGPPPiNctj_JKymTDLY5JLd2KezQe-E1oNUDuVM_JmQ-ewYPE11A5VG0n1pMGX5NuXDqIwD5K0dT6h0kjY7QgF3pl4k5Ery-3kd4/s1600/cutre+bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb2PnslTFs_quW0MF9bshWVJgfNags7XCUTAB6hSLGPPPiNctj_JKymTDLY5JLd2KezQe-E1oNUDuVM_JmQ-ewYPE11A5VG0n1pMGX5NuXDqIwD5K0dT6h0kjY7QgF3pl4k5Ery-3kd4/s400/cutre+bar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Then I wake up at five am, until last week, go out in the snow flurries and ride a train for forty minutes to work at a nonprofit dedicated to youth, student & educational travel, <a href="http://www.wysetc.org/">WYSE Travel Confederation</a>. In the streets of Amsterdam, I hear more Spanish than Dutch, loudly cursing the long winter that ices canals. <i>¡Joder! ¡Qué frio, coño!</i> <br />
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<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/530445_471015936287824_1506245277_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/530445_471015936287824_1506245277_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Most Spaniards seem to be recent university graduates looking for work. Some are street performers with
long, dreaded mullets and their pack of mangy mutts, wagging their
tails, happy, at roaming a new territory. In my office we've had three Spanish interns, two returned to Barcelona. They reported the experience helped them buck the odds and get decent jobs back home. The other, a Basque girl, stayed. She tells of the large Spanish speaking community in Amsterdam, many engineers waiting tables at the litany of Tapas Bars. She says, those who lack the English skills, look more and more to <a href="http://newamericamedia.org/2013/02/as-spains-economy-worsens-young-adults-flock-to-mexico-for-jobs.php">Latin and South America for an opportunity</a>. None imagine going home anytime soon.<br />
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f7/Almaar_1573.jpg/800px-Almaar_1573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f7/Almaar_1573.jpg/800px-Almaar_1573.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The city where I live, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alkmaar">Alkmaar</a>, also celebrates a siege, every October 8th, when, in 1573, the city beat back the attacking Spanish forces, making the turning point in the 80 Years War. Victory is in the city´s motto, the name of its park. There is no national holiday or flag waving, just a fair with a carousel. The end of Nazi occupation is a day off every
four years. I might be wrong. It might be five. My three floor townhouse sits where foreign invaders once camped, bogged down in the land flooded by Dutch Rebels. People in coffeeshops say you can hear the lispy ghosts of Spanish soldiers on a North Sea wind. Barça shirts decorate the bedroom windows of blond kids around me, along with wooden models of Dutch clipper ships.<br />
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The second edition of the book is generating some positive reviews, (<a href="http://www.adventuresinexpatland.com/wp/2013/04/11/riveting-expat-reads-from-barcelona-stories-behind-the-city/">here</a>, <a href="http://www.spainbuddy.com/february-book-review-from-barcelona-jeremy-holland/">here </a>& <a href="http://spainstruck.com/books-on-spain/">here about midway down</a>). The general consensus seems to be that the stories show the dark side of Barcelona. I dunno. I'd say more gray. It's available on Amazon, but support independent sellers and visit <a href="http://books4spain.com/">Books4Spain.com</a>. Sant Jordi is just around the corner after all. <br />
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The sun is out for the first time in three days, the rays feeding the grass, currant bushes and flowers in the small back garden. I'm home on short vacation, my wife an daughter dancing the night away at La Feria in Sevilla until Saturday, as I recover from a bout of strep throat. Our cat, Rembrandt, soaks in the warmth near the patio door after a night spent carousing the hood. The big question today, just after the third anniversary of leaving Barcelona, is whether to ride my bike into Alkmaar and get a <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixfq2Eei4FNqD17ukiZVaw4ji0ACdZ1YTbgAp2WnXB_qZEDlTyawj5x-SYhRLnB7ei2xOlWoLjgUbZYF_H3FtCACjg5hmonXAtD7Ngne7PY8Qrd5qZEZsnGwMJZWhmOZZfoRmHk3KVDws/s200/Caganer.jpg"><i>caganer </i></a>tattoo on my left shoulder from an artist, hailing from Santa Coloma.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8XHa24w24HjQGypCVS-GNZeIv82o3EHrIOvOupk4uyptU678zqd-DSS0WK_uOweVdKT8krEfljyIgvhJ3sBeHEpQzWgdZLm9YeJYGBQ-QYG4IPOFYdpHiEn-lNa1MMtWmLYuT9gZmkM/s1600/caganer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8XHa24w24HjQGypCVS-GNZeIv82o3EHrIOvOupk4uyptU678zqd-DSS0WK_uOweVdKT8krEfljyIgvhJ3sBeHEpQzWgdZLm9YeJYGBQ-QYG4IPOFYdpHiEn-lNa1MMtWmLYuT9gZmkM/s320/caganer.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-33953621107953764212012-08-15T16:20:00.000+02:002012-08-15T19:00:33.387+02:00What I Miss About BarcelonaFor those of us who have spent an extended period in Barcelona, the city never really leaves us, even if we leave it. Guest blogger Ben Holbrook shares what he misses most about Barcelona now that it's no longer home...but for how long?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhifGoGSV1S58gAS47GX5W8tDzH1iNy1db94wBugbM08zWAwPPrRl01CGgEfhHLBpTGyMX__AA_EuVf5DVbPGOMNG7FCUDp5bjwjmNwo8Ow9GOVGbJVTF9N935qwzVFl3UXW9at68_ik/s1600/ben.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhifGoGSV1S58gAS47GX5W8tDzH1iNy1db94wBugbM08zWAwPPrRl01CGgEfhHLBpTGyMX__AA_EuVf5DVbPGOMNG7FCUDp5bjwjmNwo8Ow9GOVGbJVTF9N935qwzVFl3UXW9at68_ik/s320/ben.jpg" width="320" /></a>I moved to Barcelona in August 2009 and
landed, miraculously, on <i>Passeig </i><i><b>de</b></i><i> Gràcia
</i>in the scorching heat. I had one suitcase, zero knowledge of
Spanish (or Catalan) and an un-quenchable thirst for adventure. Apart
from my one month TEFL course, which started the next day, I had no
plans apart from getting to know the city and perhaps to try and make
some friends along the way. Richard, my contact and host for the
month of August, met me and walked me through Gràcia to his flat
whilst sipping on ice-cold Estrella Damm. It was beautiful and
buzzing with life. People sat on the benches discussing life whilst
youngsters moved slowly through the iconic, windy streets. It was the
beginning of a two-year love affair, a period of time that was to
change my life forever. I left the city, begrudgingly in the summer
of 2011 and I have dreamt of returning ever since. Not a day goes
past that I don’t find myself reminiscing about the amazing times I
had in various parts of the city, and smile at how happy I was. Here
are a few random things I miss and hope to one day live again. Venga,
chicos! Vamanos!</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Random Moments of
Spontaneity. </b></span>I’ve never been one to spend time making
plans, it’s a shame really because I know I could have got more out
of my time in Spain if I had been more organised. The truth is,
however, Barcelona is a city where you simply don’t need a plan. In
fact, I’d go as far as saying that you’d do better off without
one. Without fail I’d spend every Sunday just wandering around the
streets, getting lost in the <i>Barri Gòtic</i>, or <i>El </i><i>Bourn</i>.
I’d find street musicians playing beautiful music, sometimes
Spanish style, other times it would be guys with didgeridoos and
African drums, I loved the constant diversity. I’d stumble upon yet
another quirky little cafe and treat myself to a <i>cafe con leche</i>
and whatever they had on offer – it’d never cost more than a
couple of Euros. I remember a huge group of people bursting into
dance as a stage was setup down at <i>Barceloneta</i> beach, the band
was clearly very famous and it was heart warming to see such joy in
the streets. In fact, there was always some kind of stage being
erected in one of the various neighbourhoods celebrating anything
they could get away with.
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.gardenvisit.com/assets/madge/030/passeig_de_saint_joan_barcelona3/600x/passeig_de_saint_joan_barcelona3_600x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.gardenvisit.com/assets/madge/030/passeig_de_saint_joan_barcelona3/600x/passeig_de_saint_joan_barcelona3_600x.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image from GardenVisit.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Getting Outdoors...</b><br />
<b></b>Apart
from August, when it was far too hot to exercise outdoors (at least
for me), I would spend all of my time cycling or running along the
promenade by the beaches. I’d whizz down to the W Hotel, stopping
only to watch the performers along the way or maybe to <i>take a
coffee</i>, as they say in Spain. I also loved packing a bag with
some sandwiches and walking up towards Tibidabo and Collserolla. It
was always greener and cooler up there, and the views of the city
were literally breath taking. I’d wait for the sun to go down and
then run through the handsome streets of Eixample, past Sagrada
Familia towards my favourite avenue in the whole of Barcelona,
<i>Passeig de Sant Joan</i>. I’d take a breather, watch the old men
play bowls and the youngsters trying their hand at table tennis. The
weather allowed so much more freedom to get outdoors and to be active
- I’ve never been as fit and healthy as I was in Barcelona.
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<b>Living Simply</b><br />
<b></b>Naturally as
with most people living in a new city, during the first couple of
months living in Barcelona I spent a disproportionate amount of my
time in bars. What struck me was the sheer volume of the crappy
little <i>granja</i> bars on every street corner. The word means
“farm” and they started as breakfast cafeterias where people
drank the milk and dairy products of <i>las lecherías</i>. (Think a
bakery, but for milk!) Nowadays, I guess they are the equivalent of
the pubs that we have in Britain, many of the <i>granja</i> operators
seem to have no desire to make it a <i>special</i> place, or
somewhere you’d really want to spend an evening. They are always
run by old men, and seemed to feature the same generic products.
Estrella Damm on draught, red & white wine (house), <i>cafe con
leche</i>, <i>jamón</i> and some random tapas that always looked
like they’d been left out for the last month. These old man bars,
in my mind, were perfect examples of function over form and I spent
much of my time trying to avoid them.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images03.mundoanuncio.com/ui/9/33/81/l-1356003281-02.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://images03.mundoanuncio.com/ui/9/33/81/l-1356003281-02.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image from MundoAnuncio.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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However, it’s hard to avoid them when
they are located <i>literally</i> everywhere and occupy the best
sunny-spots. I found myself frequenting them, for coffee breaks, for
after work beers, for cheap and cheerful
<i>one-euro-Saturday-night-beers</i>, for a quick bite to eat – for
everything! And then I realised that these <i>granja</i> bars summed
up everything I loved about the city. They’re not about indulgence,
luxury, or being overly sophisticated – they’re about living
simply, enjoying a drink here and a coffee there, on a daily basis.
They made daily life enjoyable and affordable and that’s what I
loved about Barcelona, it was a modest but wonderfully simple way of
life. I’ll forever try to live that way and to be as happy as I was
in sunny Barcelona.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Ben
now lives in London and is a writer for Hotel Club. He mainly writes
reviews of the best and worst</b></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b> </b></i></span></span></span><a href="http://www.hotelclub.com/United-Kingdom/London-hotels/"><span style="font-family: Verdana, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>LondonHotels</b></i></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b> </b></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>and
is currently planning a dream trip to South America. </b></i></span></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-27467900323127633862012-06-14T15:55:00.001+02:002012-06-14T16:23:34.009+02:00Some of the Locations Featured in the Collection.The Kindle version of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B008B7SFQ0/ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hollafromholl-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B008B7SFQ0">From Barcelona </a>came out today. Here are some images of some of the places featured.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/Santa_Maria_del_Mar_%28Barcelona%29_-_37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/Santa_Maria_del_Mar_%28Barcelona%29_-_37.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Born</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c0/Sagradafamilia-overview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c0/Sagradafamilia-overview.jpg" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sagrada Família</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d1/Spain.Barcelona.Torre.Urquinaona.jpg/300px-Spain.Barcelona.Torre.Urquinaona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d1/Spain.Barcelona.Torre.Urquinaona.jpg/300px-Spain.Barcelona.Torre.Urquinaona.jpg" width="137" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plaça Urquinaona</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Make sure to buy a copy if you have an e-reader. The physical version should be available soon through all the usual channels. Also, come and "like" the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FromBarcelona">Facebook page</a>. Thanks, gracias, gràcies, bedanktUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-82058879261166700452012-06-09T12:55:00.001+02:002012-06-09T12:55:41.830+02:00From Barcelona - Second EditionBased on friends' photos on Facebook it looks like everyone in BCN is starting to enjoy the summer and the music festival season. The weather is one of the many things I miss not living there. We've got a gale force wind and lashing rain in the Low Countries today.<br />
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Anyway, I'm pleased to announce I found a new publisher for From Barcelona and a second edition is coming out in July. I was able to revisit the old stories with a more clear headed perspective and add a few new ones in, too. Here's a picture of the cover.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ssiTuOD_URvYnBmM1l6_w1hFExNdXcd-McpUslzgsOjhvspRDRc039X-YLetbH9e4cZW2lujtZVv0L29de9ppdwLXmJIlSR40tKpzWgOZZowL4PYa57-qesZrwMlKOBmvvZVSy29r2E/s1600/From+Barcelona+300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ssiTuOD_URvYnBmM1l6_w1hFExNdXcd-McpUslzgsOjhvspRDRc039X-YLetbH9e4cZW2lujtZVv0L29de9ppdwLXmJIlSR40tKpzWgOZZowL4PYa57-qesZrwMlKOBmvvZVSy29r2E/s400/From+Barcelona+300.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
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I'll hopefully have a .PDF version before the official release. If anyone is interested in receiving a free copy, send me an e-mail. I've put some excepts up to give you an idea. For those of you interested in what life is like in the Dutch cheese country, feel free to visit my blog, <a href="http://www.hollandfromholland.com/">www.hollandfromholland.com</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-1035155901928722802011-09-05T13:49:00.001+02:002012-06-09T13:07:18.338+02:00Barcelona Nightlife - Gambling The Night AwayBarcelona isn't Las Vegas or Monte Carlo which doesn't mean you can't test you luck and play games that might not make you rich, but could pay for a couple of drinks. Many bars and restaurants have slot machines, and in addition to that there is the famous Barcelona Casino near Port Olimpic. Unlike it's counter parts on the Vegas strip, there is no <a href="http://www.casinotoplists.com/">internet casino</a>, which is probably for the best as the location offers visitors sea views, a discotheque, and a choice of restaurants: either a traditional casino buffet or Mediterranean cuisine.<br />
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But of course, you don't go to a casino for the nightlife and unlike the slots you'll find in the restaurants throughout Barcelona, the casino offers games such as <a href="http://www.casinotoplists.com/online-blackjack">black jack</a>, roulette (French & American style), plus poker to test your luck and win some serious cash. To play any of these games, you'll need an ID (preferably a passport) and to dress appropriately (no bathing suits, flip-flops etc).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-71792287869126457852010-12-02T06:27:00.001+01:002012-06-09T13:07:32.992+02:00Bon Nadal / Feliz Navidad / Merry ChristmasJust a quick note to wish everyone season's greetings. If I remember correctly, the mega bridge starting the season will be here soon and with it La Fira de Santa Llùcia (Lucia) located outside the Gothic Cathedral. One of my favorite Catalan traditions is the caganer. So much so he inspired a short story I wrote last year. You can read it <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/p/caganer.html">here</a>.<br />
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Enjoy the festivities and stay warm.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-83024243597121427342010-09-22T12:14:00.004+02:002012-06-09T13:07:49.054+02:00Adéu Barcelona!As some of you might know, I no longer call Barcelona home, having left in April for literally the greener pastures of Holland. It was a bittersweet decision because when I look back at all the places I've lived, Barcelona was the city I stayed in the longest - eight years! So, why did I leave?<br />
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As with any major decision there were a variety of factors, most of which was brought about by the arrival of our daughter about a year and a half ago. The economy was of course one. Even in the boom years, the salary to hours worked ratio was never one of the city's top selling points, with ten hour days being the norm and 1,500 a month classified as well-paid. When we were just a couple, this didn't seem so important. We could live in a place without an elevator, go out with friends, travel, and enjoy all that Barcelona had to offer (concerts, beach, festivals). But without having any type of family support, this type of work schedule and wage makes raising a child there difficult and expensive. Plus, what's the point of having a kid if you're working and stressed all the time?<br />
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The whole <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/01/final-thoughts-on-all-things-catalan.html">nationalist debate</a> played a role too. We want our daughter to be proud of her mixed heritage, and unfortunately that's not the easiest thing to do in Barcelona given the political climate. The sad truth is: she'll feel more Spanish living in a small city in north Holland than a region of Spain. But, hey, that's why I don't live there anymore, because as Lou Reed sang, "I do believe, when you don't like things you leave for some place you've never gone before."<br />
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So, after six months away, is there anything I miss? Absolutely, the beauty of the city and the people I'd met both in person and through this blog, the anarchic quality of the streets, the fish, those crazy Barcelona nights that end the next day. I don't miss the noise, though, or the congestion. It's nice having a tiny backyard even if it's the only place in Holland where grass doesn't want to grow. <br />
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Would I recommend Barcelona? Sure, why not. Just <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/09/thinking-outside-box-in-barcelona.html">do your own thing</a> and try not to work for the man. There are worse locations to pass the time, but I can't think of many better cities to live in if you're single or with a significant other. It's stimulating and creative and just a special place. There's a reason why the city is called "that great enchantress" and I lived there so many years.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5Barcelona, Spain41.387917 2.169918741.2591285 1.9364592000000003 41.5167055 2.4033782tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-50914052977267857822010-06-22T06:56:00.009+02:002012-06-09T13:08:02.317+02:00Part Time Work in BarcelonaI don't know if it's like this in other countries, but finding part time work in Barcelona is probably harder than landing a full time gig. Part of this has to do with the current economic environment, but mostly it's because the concept of flexible, part time jobs based on hourly wages, doesn't really exist here.<br />
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Sure, companies offer part time contracts, but they're usually for twenty-five hours a week, the choice of afternoon or evening shifts being your only option. You will be expected to work these set hours regardless of work load and sometimes more because there's no time sheet to monitor when you arrive and leave, and thus no overtime. To avoid paying summer vacation, employers will often only offer these contracts for periods of less than a year, say from September to June, so you'll be responsible for saving money from your 500-600 euro-a-month paycheck for a summer, winter vacations.<br />
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One of the problems I've had working on contracts, whether part time or full time, is that employers will often fiddle with the tax percentage, especially if you're hired during the year. This is often done without your knowledge and during the year it seems you're earning more, until April rolls around and you get a bill from the <i>hacienda </i>(tax department) saying you owe. Also switching jobs or going from part to full time or vice-versa will almost surely see you pay. It's almost enough to make a person decide never to file taxes ever again.<br />
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But if you're only planning on staying a short time, part time contracts do offer the chance of a steady income that will leave you free in the mornings or evenings. Most of the part time job market requires Spanish and is concentrated on sales, promotions. If you don't have knowledge of the language, there are call centers and English schools that offer part time work. The best place to find out if a place is hiring is through the <a href="http://www.barcelona-metropolitan.com/">Metropolitan Magazine</a> available in many English pubs or on <a href="http://www.loquo.com/en_us">Loquo</a>.<br />
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As I wrote in an earlier post, becoming an <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/03/working-freelance-in-spain-updated-and.html">autónomo </a>is also an option because it allows you to earn a decent hourly wage. But going through the process and paying the taxes really isn't worth it if you don't plan on staying for the long term. So what to do if you just want to earn enough to pay for your Barcelona adventure?<br />
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Personally, I think the best option is to go black. I mean economically speaking, not in the choice of your clothes' color. I think I read somewhere the underground economy constitutes a fifth of the Spanish GDP and there's a reason; it's the only way to make a decent living for many people.<br />
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Vast and covering almost every service sector, if you're fresh to the city and don't speak the language, there's the option of passing out fliers for one of the hundreds of bars competing for customers. I'm not sure how payment works, but people seem to get by and if often leads to other under the table promotional, bar work. Some restaurants might take you on and pay cash during peak months, as will smaller English schools but if all depends on how legal they are. If you like working with your hands, there is always boat work at the marina.<br />
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But in all honesty, I still think your best option for working part time is to discover you <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/09/thinking-outside-box-in-barcelona.html">inner entrepreneur and do you own thing</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-18833944682730832092010-06-03T07:47:00.002+02:002012-06-09T13:08:23.087+02:00Catalunya's Beaches & Barcelona Festival ListThe arrival of June has already seen the temperatures rise and the humidity start. With air-conditioning in short supply here, the best way to escape the heat is to pack the sunscreen and towel and head to the beach. In Barcelona there are three main places to layout and bake before hitting a <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/05/summer-time-and-livins-easy.html">chiringuito</a>. Starting with Barceloneta near the port, you can walk north to la playa Icaria by the Hotel Arts and Manfre buildings. Just beyond it is la playa Marbella, where you'll find the only nudist beach in the city. Not natural beaches, they were created as part of the Olympic games to offer those staying in the city easy access to the water, and on summer days they are often packed to capacity, so get there early. Also remember <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/04/avoiding-pickpockets.html">to be careful</a> with your belongings.<br />
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<a href="http://www.cafeytren.com/playas/imagenes/caldes-destrac.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.cafeytren.com/playas/imagenes/caldes-destrac.gif" /></a>If you're looking for something more relaxing, thirty minutes north are las playas de Maresme. You can get there by <a href="http://www.renfe.es/">train </a>from Plaça Catalunya and the fares aren't that expensive. In fact up to Montgat Nord, you can use a standard metro pass. They'll still be crowded on a hot summer's day, but less so than the ones in the city, and you can be a little less paranoid about your belongings. Of these I particularly enjoy Cabrera de Mar and Caldes d'Estrac for a quick day trip, while <a href="http://www.hotelstreet.co.uk/Resorts-266-Santa_Susana.html">Santa Susanna</a> is a quaint little beach town that's perfect for a weekend out of the city.<br />
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Further north is La Costa Brava. To get to there, you'll need to catch the <a href="http://gospain.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?zi=1/XJ&sdn=gospain&cdn=travel&tm=10&f=10&su=p531.50.336.ip_&tt=2&bt=1&bts=1&zu=http%3A//www.barcelonanord.com/default_eng.asp">bus </a>from the Arc de Triomf metro station, and it'll run you about an hour or two, depending on where you're heading. The first of these beaches are Lloret and Tossa del Mar, which are particularly popular with the British so be warned, while further north are Palafruguell, L'Estartit and Roses. As you can see, the water is crystal blue and the settings awe-inspiring, but there is little in the way of space to sunbath due to the rocky nature of the coast. Still, it's well-worth a visit and a great place to snorkel or scuba-dive, especially <a href="http://www.spain.info/TourSpain/Deportes/Estaciones%20Nauticas/I/HH/0/Estacion%20Nautica%20L%20Estartit%20Illes%20Medes.htm?language=en">las Islas Medas</a>.<br />
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South of Barcelona also offers some fantastic places to layout and enjoy the sun. Different than the rocky coast of la Costa Brava, they tend to offer lots of space and sand. The most famous of these is <a href="http://www.sitgestour.com/">Sitges</a>, which is just under two hours away. A typical Spanish beach town with white houses and tiny streets, its wide sandy beachs and the shallow water are perfect for those of you with small children. Further south are las Playas of Tarragona, with the most popular being <a href="http://www.salou-tourist-guide.com/en/general/beach-salou.html">Salou</a>, which personally reminds me of Benidorm. To get to either of these, you'll again catch the train, while all along the coast are more natural and wild beaches such as<a href="http://www.spain.info/US/TourSpain/Costas%20y%20Playas/Playas/I/SP/0/Playa%20de%20Altafulla.htm?Language=en"> La Playa Waikiki or Altafulla</a> that'll require renting a car.<br />
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To stay in any of the aforementioned places, you can either stay in a hotel, rent a flat or semi-rough it at a camping ground. Also as requested, here's a <a href="http://www.barcelonamar.com/espanol/calendarioBCN.html">list with all the festivals taking</a> place in Barcelona including the neighborhood fiestasUnknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-37695786807097235642010-05-22T09:50:00.000+02:002012-06-09T13:08:44.644+02:00Blogging in Summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have to admit with the change in temperature and the arrival of the sun after a long winter, I find my desire to sit in an office and blog about as high as going to work on a Monday morning with a hangover. There are too many things I'd rather be doing such as attending the II Gran Pinchada Surf and Roll which takes places at <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/02/la-cervecita.html">La Cervecita</a> tonight and night starting at seven there's a spring festival at <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/04/placacitas.html">Plaça Sant Pere</a> in El Born. Barcelona really comes alive over the spring and summer months with events such as these, in addition to neighborhood parties, concerts and the like so I feel a bit sad sitting at home when I could be outside enjoying life.<br />
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So as with last year, light blogging through the summer months. I'll try and compile a list of neighborhood parties with their dates for anyone interested. There are so many it's by no means easy, so if you know of one, please let me know. In the meantime, enjoy your days wherever you are!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-32480934769787064352010-05-10T09:24:00.004+02:002012-06-09T13:08:55.279+02:00Milk It!One of the many things I find fascinating about the Spanish language is the importance of the word milk, or <i>leche</i>. It is of course used to describe the white liquid that comes from mammals, but in addition to the literal meaning, such as <i>café con leche</i> (coffee with milk) it's also commonly used either as an exclamation or as part of an expression.<br />
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Here are some examples.<br />
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<li><i>importar tres leches</i> - to mind three milks, which means to not care at all. For example, <i>me importa tres leches qué opinas</i>. I don't care at all what your opinion is.</li>
<li><i>ser la leche</i> - to be the milk, which means to be unbelievable or great. It can be used literally such as, <i>Soy la leche, he aprobado todos los exámenes</i>. I'm great, I passed all of my exams, or sarcastically, <i>Eres la leche, macho</i>. You're unbelievable, dude.</li>
<li><i>de la leche</i> - of the milk, which means more than a lot, as hell. <i>Hoy hace un solazo de la leche</i>. Today is sunny as hell. <i>Hace un calor de la leche</i>. It's hot as hell. (I wish!)</li>
<li><i>a toda leche </i>- to all the milk, which means at full speed. <i>Salimos corriendo a toda leche</i>. We ran out at full speed.</li>
<li><i>¡leche!</i> - dammit! <i>¡Leche!</i> <i>Me he pillado el dedo con la puerta</i>. Dammit! I caught my finger in the door.</li>
<li> <i>estar de mala / buena leche </i>- to be in a bad / good milk which refers to someone's mood. <i>¿Estas de buena o mala leche hoy?</i> Are you in a good or bad mood today?</li>
<li><i>tener leche en las venas (en vez de sangre)</i> - to have milk in your veins (instead of blood), meaning you show no affection or you lack of drive. </li>
<li><i>cagarse en la leche</i> - to shit in the milk, which is what you do when angry.</li>
</ul>
Not sure why <i>leche </i>is so prevalent in the Spanish vernacular. Any ideas? Also, feel free to add more if there are. All this talk of milk is making me hungry for cereal.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-29917816662077452082010-05-07T12:43:00.000+02:002012-06-09T13:09:08.372+02:00Boycotting the newsI ran into a friend the other day while out for a drink. She was still buzzing from a great weekend in Barcelona and excited about the eventual arrival of summer. I told her how much I admired her optimist outlook given the news lately, providing a quick review of the world headlines when she asked what I meant. Her smiling face went stoic, she called me depressing and left to find someone more cheerful to talk to.<br />
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The moment really crystallized something that I think would make an interesting case study: how much of a person's outlook on life is correlated to their news intake. It seems the less you know or care, the more pleasant the world is. Yes, when it comes to world events at least, ignorance truly is bliss, which I guess makes the opposite true; knowledge is misery. So the question is - what's more important, being knowledgeable or being happy? I think it's time to debookmark the news sites and find other things to read until the weather improves.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-19184445603495581802010-05-04T20:03:00.003+02:002012-06-09T13:09:28.153+02:00Primavera Sound 2010It's May which means Primavera Sound will soon be here. Starting the 27th of May and ending the 30th, most of the action takes place at the Forum. It's four days of great music and probably my favorite concert / festival in Barcelona even if I miss the old venue of Poble Espanyol. As with last year, they've got a great mix of bands from oldies but goodies to some up and coming acts. Here's this year's line up based on date. No times available yet. <b>Bold </b>indicates I've heard of the group.<br />
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<i>Thursday May 27th</i>: Alado Sincera, <b>Aspe</b>, Bis, Biscuit, Broken Social Scene, <b>Circulatory System</b>, Chrome Hoof, Crocodiles, Delorean, Edredón, Emilio José, Fuck Buttons, Guadalupe Pata, Half Foot Outside, His Majesty the King, Macaco Bang, <b>Mission of Burma</b>, Moderat, Monotonix, <b>Pavement</b>, Pony Bravo, Seefeel, Sic Alps, Sleigh Bells, Superchunk, <b>Surfer Blood</b>, The Big Pink, The Books, <b>The Fall</b>, The Smith Westerns, <b>The XX</b>, <b>Titus Andronicus</b>, Tom Cary, Tortoise, Ui, <b>Wild Beasts</b>.<br />
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A strong first day lineup with a definite a nineties influence. Aspe is like Tool except the leader singer has a falsetto. Circulatory System produced one of my <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/12/favorite-albums-of-year.html">favorite albums</a> last year and Pavement is one of my all time favorite groups, although I'm a bit ambivalent about their reunion. In my opinion, Mission of Burma was one of the more overlooked bands of the grunge era for lack of a better word, while Surfer Blood, a relative new comer, takes the nineties sound and adds a bit of pop and rhythm. The Fall is a great band and I hope the sound system works this time. The XX received numerous awards last year, but I can't really get into them unlike the Wild Beasts which I enjoy immensely. The influnce of the Clash is what I hear when I listen to Titus Andronicus, but that's not a bad thing. There are worse groups to copy.<br />
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<i>Friday May 28th</i>: A Sunny Day in Glasgow, Autoramas, Beach House, Beak, Best Coast, Black Math Horseman, Blackbird, Boat Beam, CocoRosie, Cohete, Cold Cave, Condo Fucks, Delco, Diplo, Fuel Fandago, Ganglians, Harlem, Here We Go Magic, Holy Water, <b>Japandroids</b>, Hope Sandovals & The Warm Inventions, Joker featuring Nomad, Junip, Leda Tres, <b>Les Savy Fav</b>, Major Lazer, Marc Almond, Nueva Volcano, Oscartienealas, <b>Panda Bear</b>, <b>Pixies</b>, Scout Niblett, <b>Shellac</b>, <b>Spoon</b>, Standstill, The Bloody Beatroots Death Crew, The Dallas Guild, The King Kahn & BBQ Show, <b>The</b> <b>New Pornographers</b>, the Nu Niles, Thee Oh Sees, <b>Wilco</b>, Wild Honey, <b>Wire</b>, Yeasayer.<br />
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A night of musical heavy weights with the Pixies, Wilco and Wire. It'll be interesting to see what songs each picks for their set given the wealth of material to choose from. Japandroids and Les Savy Fav remind me too much of other groups but without the enthusiasm of say Titus Andronicus who play on Thursday. Spoon are quality but not something I listen to much. Panda Bear should be interesting to see live while I wish just for once Steve Albini would bring back Big Black instead of Shellac.<br />
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<i>Saturday May 29th</i>: <b>Atlas Sound</b>, Ben Frost, Bigott, Boy 8-Bit, <b>Built to Spill</b>, Camaron - La Leyenda del Tiempo, Dinero, Dr. Dog, <b>Dum Dum Girls</b>, Endless Boogie, Fake Blood, <b>Grizzly Bear</b>, <b>HEALTH</b>, <b>Lee "Scratch" Perry</b>, <b>Matt & Kim</b>, Mujeres, Nana Grizol, Niño y Pistola, <b>No Age</b>, ODDSAC, <b>Orbital</b>, <b>Pet Shop Boys</b>, Polvo, <b>Real Estate</b>, Roddy Frame, Sian Alice Group, So Cow, <b>Sunny Day Real Estate</b>, The Bundles, <b>The Charlatans</b>, The Clean, The Drums, The Psychic Paramount, The Slits, Thelematicos, Trigger, Van Dyke Parks, Za!<br />
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If I had to pick one day to go, this would be it. Atlas Sound's last album still gets a lot of play in the house, while Built to Spill is a great band live. Dum Dum Girls, HEALTH and No Age all hail from L.A. and offer a taste of the different musical sound Lala land is famous for: sunny pop, in your face aggression, and sonic experimentation, sometimes in the same song. Mat & Kim take synth pop to a whole new level. Grizzly Bear is similar to The XX - they won a slew of awards last year but I'm not sure why, while Sunny Day Real Estate is one group I could never get into depsite many people, whose opinion I respect, telling me they were great. Pet Shop Boys is a group I admire but would never pay to see and the Charlatans is what my older brother used to listen to.<br />
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So that's it more or less. There are smaller groups and different stages including Parc Joan Miró, so it's difficult to give a more detailed account. Check out <a href="http://www.primaverasound.com/ps.php?seccion=home&idioma=en">the official website</a> for more info and enjoy the festivities! Some videos for your listening pleasure to get in the mood.<br />
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Atlas Sound & Panda Bear<br />
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Wild Beasts<br />
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HEALTH<br />
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Pixies singing Spanglish<br />
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<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5mvn0U4lS24&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-82791905425282449912010-05-04T09:06:00.001+02:002012-06-09T13:12:17.068+02:00More Bass and Dubstep<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Balmes%2C%2083%2C%20Barcelona%2C%20Spain">Sala Cream</a> is hosting its weekly Mad Session featuring an array of talented deejays spinning bass, dubstep and break beats, plus I imagine some tunes that are unclassifiable. Here's the lineup.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0OF8VOz7W_EJRM_ztbLyQIHOyC4rN9FkzoKWlQxoM-ToBVJAnejH8vjHzkBpG0r63dxloi27DDJR3YNBl2nh1pfPhZxA9A1mVXmAuvLZeBJlIrO45Ut6TufiBtuSAlfr0ryycc4FmLk/s1600/madsession.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0OF8VOz7W_EJRM_ztbLyQIHOyC4rN9FkzoKWlQxoM-ToBVJAnejH8vjHzkBpG0r63dxloi27DDJR3YNBl2nh1pfPhZxA9A1mVXmAuvLZeBJlIrO45Ut6TufiBtuSAlfr0ryycc4FmLk/s640/madsession.jpg" width="452" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-48033252451761908772010-05-03T07:52:00.001+02:002012-06-09T13:12:30.072+02:00GloomyAfter hinting at summer last week, the weather took a bit of a turn for the worse right around the time Standard & Poors downgraded Spain's credit rating. This news was followed by unemployment reaching twenty percent and the forecast this week calls for rain so the outlook isn't too sunny right now.<br />
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The recent spat of bad economic news was followed by some thoughtful articles highlighting the differences between the Spanish situation and Greece in terms of government debt, pointing out that even while downgrading the country, S & P found little chance of Spain going into default. This is, of course, great news, but it doesn't mean it's hunky dory since public debt is only part of the equation.<br />
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<a href="http://www.riskelia.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/CDSCADeficitMarch2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="http://www.riskelia.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/CDSCADeficitMarch2010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Sources: Bloomberg, IMF, European Union Commission Estimates<br />
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As the data shows and the related article <a href="http://www.riskelia.com/blog/2010/03/deciphering-the-g10-sovereign-debt-crisis-a-macroeconomic-perspective/">explains</a>, Spain's problem isn't so much its public debt percentage, which is actually lower than Germany's, but its current account balance, which is a combination of public and private debt. The latter was used primarily to fund the real estate bubble and when it popped, there's been nothing to replace it other than government spending because the economy's been nothing but construction and tourism the last twenty years.<br />
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So the one bright spot, its public debt, is increasing as a result of the crisis. At the same time, private sector debt, mostly tied up in mortgages, is increasing due to the housing crash. Meanwhile, the international community is calling for a period of wage deflation as prices continue to rise. Growth isn't projected until 2011 and even then it'll be anemic, which means there's little hope of the unemployment situation turning around anytime soon despite what the Spanish president says. That's the best case scenario.<br />
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One of the tragic ironies is, just when Spain has found a way to harness its famous sun for something other than tourism and become a player in the emerging renewable energy market, the subsidies needed to help nascent groups like T-Solar might be cut in the name of austerity. It makes me wonder if there had been less building and more investing where the country would be now. Of course, I've never understood why a French company, Alstom, won the contract to build the trains for the Barcelona metro either. Sometimes is seems the only thing Spanish are the banks and their empty buildings anymore. Actually, that's not true; there's <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/05/summer-time-and-livins-easy.html">the chiringuito</a> once the clouds pass and summer finally arrives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-40134665412238701902010-05-01T16:28:00.001+02:002012-06-09T13:12:46.050+02:00Plugs and other TidbitsFor anyone interested in doing a bike tour of Barcelona, <a href="http://www.steeldonkeybiketours.com/">Steel Donkey</a> offers an alternative view of the city thanks to some locals who are eager to show your more than the standard sights and streets. Meanwhile, <a href="http://suitelife.es/">Suite Life</a> offers not only apartments for visitors and locals alike, but also services aimed at making your stay more enjoyable. One way to ensure that is to avoid the pickpockets and speaking of which, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/RobbedInBarcelona">I know someone who got robbed in Barcelona</a> is a Facebook page that's recently become quite a phenomenon with over a thousand fans and a write up in <a href="http://www.lavanguardia.es/ciudadanos/noticias/20100415/53907957188/las-victimas-de-robos-en-barcelona-alertan-en-internet-google-maps-jordi-william-carnes-la-vanguardi.html">La Vanguardia</a>. Dedicated to helping people avoid the latest scams and places notorious for their thieves, it offers maps and updates on local initiatives. Become a fan because it's a worth cause. Finally, <a href="http://pocketcultures.com/">Pocket Cultures</a>, where Marta from <a href="http://englishinbarna.blogspot.com/">English in Barna</a> contributes, is a great resource for any traveler offering insider tips and insights so make sure to bookmark it. Enjoy the weekend!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-62241750640328309242010-04-29T06:50:00.000+02:002012-06-09T13:12:57.562+02:00Move Abroad, Get CreativeIf you move to a foreign country, will you become more creative? A study last year in <i>the Economist</i> seemed to support this. Meanwhile, when I think of all the great artists ranging from painters to writers to poets, most had spent some time away from their home lands. Still, all of this is anecdotal in nature, lacking anything concrete specifics, so is it true or a myth that living abroad inspires creativity?<br />
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Speaking from my personal experience, I do feel more creative since moving to Spain. Part of the reason, I think, is the need to communicate in a foreign language. Searching for the right word, trying to find the correct way to ask for something forces my brain to be active even when it's something simple like buying milk. Of course, sometimes, even today, I can't always come up with the right word or the correct tense, which makes me look for non verbal ways to communicate: miming, sketching, a combination of the two with a few made-up words thrown in. The end result is: I usually get what I want, utilizing parts of my brain that wouldn't been used otherwise, making even the most mundane of actions stimulating.<br />
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But more than the language, I'd say the increased creativity has more to do with the freedom of thought and openness that comes with moving to a foreign land. Basic assumptions about life are challenged by new experiences. I've learned that there is often no right or wrong way to do things - only different. A walk in the park triggers a whole new thought process when I compare my new life to the one I left. While without the comfortable surroundings of my past, I'm forced to get out and experience life, rather than settle into a daily routine of letting it pass me by as I watch T.V. or daydream. So by the end of even the most unadventurous day, my mind is full of sights, sounds and smells that it wouldn't have been otherwise, which in turn spurs my creativity inspiring me to write.<br />
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So if you're feeling bored, stagnated and uncreative at home, sell your possessions, buy a ticket for a place you've always wanted to go and set a goal to stay for one year. Perhaps, you won't stay forever, but even if that's the case, you'll return a different, more creative person with enough material to paint that picture, sing that song or write that book which you've always had in you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-62024104071781060842010-04-27T10:29:00.010+02:002012-06-09T13:13:12.038+02:00PlacetesI'm not sure if that's a word, but Barcelona is full of them - little squares hidden amid the alleys and buildings of the city's older districts. Often lined with bars and restaurants, each one offers something distinct, whether it be a lively atmosphere or a feeling of being transported in time, making them the perfect place to meet friends for drinks and tapas now that spring is here. The problem is, there are so many of these squares littered throughout the city, that it's impossible to name them all but here are a few of my favorites.<br />
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<span id="goog_761748866"></span><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=pla%C3%A7a+de+sant+pere+barcelona&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.808514,79.013672&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Pla%C3%A7a+de+Sant+Pere,+08003+Barcelona,+Catalu%C3%B1a,+Spain&ll=41.389226,2.179252&spn=0.001006,0.002411&z=19">Plaça de Sant Pere</a><span id="goog_761748867"></span>. Located in the upper El Born, where Carrer de Sant Pere Més Alt and Carrer de Sant Pere Mitja meet, it's sided by a few bars, a La Caixa and a small medieval church, which apparently doesn't exist on any map. Probably the least crowded of the ones on the list, I'll never forget sitting outside listening to the music of a string quartet coming from inside the centuries old stone walls of the church while tucking into some patatas bravas at a terrace outside.<br />
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address"><a href="http://maps.google.es/maps?oe=utf-8&client=firefox-a&ie=UTF8&q=La+Sole%C3%A1+poble+sec++barcelona&fb=1&gl=es&hq=La+Sole%C3%A1+poble+sec&hnear=barcelona&hl=es&view=map&cid=6324523832772151846&iwloc=A&ved=0CDwQpQY&sa=X&ei=MYfWS-inE8jxOfGwgcwN">Plaça del Sortidor</a> in Poble Sec offers a mix of bars and restaurants amid the chaos that is Spanish streets. Sitting at one of the tables that lines the inside perimeter of the square, you can see kids kicking a football around, sometimes chased by a small dog. A honk of a horn and you'll watch as a delivery truck squeezes through the narrow street separating the tables from the bars, producing a shout from the kid behind on the scooter to hurry up. Then, like everyone else who has been observing, you'll return to the conversation you were having with friends about what to do that night as someone in an overlooking apartment hammers away to Queen playing on the stereo.</span><br />
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address"><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=pla%C3%A7a+del+sol+barcelona&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.808514,79.013672&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Pla%C3%A7a+del+Sol,+08012+Barcelona,+Catalu%C3%B1a,+Spain&ll=41.401451,2.156809&spn=0.002012,0.004823&z=18">Plaça del Sol</a> speaks to Barcelona's Bohemian side. Surrounded by bars and restaurants, it's in the heart of Gracia, which had been its own village for much of its history and still maintains a bit of an independence streak. One of the few squares that's popular throughout the year, the crowd, like the neighborhood itself, tends to veer to the more artistic and relaxed compared to the elegance of L'Eixample district that rests below.</span><br />
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address"><a href="http://maps.google.nl/maps?hl=nl&client=firefox-a&ie=UTF8&q=antiquari+bar+barcelona&fb=1&gl=nl&hq=antiquari+bar&hnear=barcelona&view=map&cid=1682746261892049375&ved=0CDoQpQY&ei=KpXWS-ijCJP4OfX48PcN&ll=41.384152,2.177608&spn=0.001006,0.002411&z=19">Plaça del Rei</a>. Tucked behind the main Cathedral in el Barrio Gotico is a square that can either be bustling with a concert or as quiet as it was centuries ago. Unlike most found throughout the city, it has only one bar, <a href="http://maps.google.nl/maps/place?cid=1682746261892049375&q=antiquari+bar+barcelona&gl=nl&hl=nl&cd=1&ei=LpXWS8amMML1Oc-l1dwN&sig2=HPtVyzF1upT1wlfj6TW41Q&sll=41.38398,2.177494&sspn=0.006295,0.006295&ie=UTF8&ll=41.384656,2.176401&spn=0,0&z=19&iwloc=A">L'Antiquari</a>, which is more like a stone tavern with a basement. Sitting outside at its terrace, looking at the engravings on the stone walls, it's difficult not to be impressed by the sense of history that surrounds you.</span><br />
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address"> </span><br />
<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address"><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=carrer+tallers+barcelona&sll=41.385153,2.164997&sspn=0.128795,0.308647&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Carrer+dels+Tallers,+Barcelona,+Catalu%C3%B1a,+Spain&ll=41.384253,2.169049&spn=0.001006,0.002411&z=19">Plaça de Vicenç Martorell</a>. Just off Carrer Tallers is a small square that surprisingly also has some greenery in the form of a patch of grass and a playground. Perhaps that's why under the arcade are the tables to some of Barcelona's better fruit, vegetable and sandwich bars. A great place when you need a break from the crowds of Las Ramblas just two blocks away.</span><br />
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<span class="pp-headline-item pp-headline-address">Like I said, Barcelona is full of these little squares or placetes. It's one of the reasons, I think, it's such a fun city to get lost in, so feel free to add to the list and see how many the really are. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-11708541681914981942010-04-25T08:13:00.000+02:002012-06-09T13:13:25.000+02:00Barcelona Football ClubLa Liga is winding down so there are only a few more chances to see Barcelona football club until September. This Wednesday they host Inter Milan and face the difficult task of overcoming a 3-1 defeat in Italy. After that, they have Tenerife visiting on May 6th and Valladolid on May 16th. Their lead on Real Madrid is only one point, so each match is critical if Barça wants to retain the title. <br />
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There are still tickets available to catch the team live and plenty of <a href="http://www.hotelcalculator.com/en/1085/spain/barcelona/?lid=19229">hotels near Camp Nou</a>. The stadium itself is an impressive site so before the match check to see if there are any tours available to get an insider's look.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-48367559719527008092010-04-23T10:13:00.013+02:002012-06-09T13:13:44.086+02:00Happy Sant Jordi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is one of my favorite days in Barcelona, la Diada de Sant Jordi, or Saint George's day. Honoring the patron saint of the Catalunya who is famous for slaying the dragon, it's celebrated with the simple gift exchange of a rose for her and a book from him.<br />
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Surprisingly, it's not a public holiday, but if you're out and about it seems like it is based on the crowds strolling the streets and looking at the flower and book stands. And what is truly amazing is that it can rain the day before and it can rain the day after, but no one I know remembers it raining on Sant Jordi. <br />
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So if you're in town, make sure to take in the sights and sounds of one of the more special days here. If you're not, why not buy a rose or a book for a friend to celebrate anyway. <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/04/happy-sant-jordi.html">Here </a>is an interpretation of the legend behind the celebration. Enjoy.<br />
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Senyor Jordi I El Drac</div>
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Many centuries ago, on top of the barren and windswept stone peaks of the Pyrenees Mountains, a knight and his squire rode to the click, cluck of their horses’ hooves against the rocky eastern ridge. They had been riding to this sound for days on their way to the kingdom of Barcelona, when the wail of a weeping woman cut through the gray air, stopping them in their tracks. So horrifying was the cry that the young squire’s face turned white and his normally steady steed, Nano, bucked, neighed, and stopped with a snort and shake of the head. “What was that, Senyor Jordi?” said the boy as he stroked the smooth brown fur of his nervous horse’s neck.<br />
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“There is only one cry painful and powerful enough to reach us up here my dear, Jaume,” replied the old knight. “And that is the cry of a mother who has lost her child.”<br />
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Senyor Jordi lifted the dented visor of his helmet and squinted his large brown eyes. Peering down his long, beak-like nose, he followed the steep slope to where it eased at the trees of the Carlac Forest that stretched north and south along the mountainside. Beyond it were the gray stone and red-tiled roofs of a walled village near a dark lake. He rubbed the white stubble on his thin and worn face, closed his eyes and sighed, “Come on. We must see what we can do.”<br />
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“Are you sure, sir?” asked the squire.<br />
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“Of course, I’m sure. I have not lived the life I’ve lived to sit around and do nothing when I hear such pain.”<br />
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“Yes, I know. But something tells me we shouldn’t go down there, sir.”<br />
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“Boy, how many times have I told you that one must fight for what one wants?” He slipped down his visor and took the reins of his white stallion, Anici, signaling an end to the discussion. “Now, come on. We must see what has caused such pain and suffering.”<br />
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“Yes, sir.”<br />
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The squire gingerly followed his master down a path no wider than the horses’ shoulders. The protruding jagged rocks made it seem like they were going mostly sideways as it snaked down the treacherous face of the mountain. Jaume dared not breathe, fearing the slightest noise might literally send him off the cliff which seemed to be constantly on one side. It wasn’t until the slope began to flatten and the gravel ground turned to hard dirt that he spoke again. “Sir,” he said as they arrived at the first row of barren trees of the Carlac Forest.<br />
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“What?”<br />
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“Should we not rest here for a bit?”<br />
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“Jaume, if you wish to go back, by all means, go ahead. You can attack a few windmills in Castilla-La Mancha along the way. I, on the other hand, will be marching forward!”<br />
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The squire decided that he had had enough and yanked his horse’s reins to turn him around. Nano, however, had other ideas and refused to budge. The boy glared and again tried to steer his steed. And again, Nano refused. Staring into his horse’s big brown eyes, the squire realized that the animal’s loyalty rested with his master and not him. “Okay, boy, you win,” he said kicking the horse’s side with spite to spur him along.<br />
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As they rode through the desolate wasteland, a thick fog swallowed the barren trees and shriveled bushes. The squire listened for any sound of life – a bird chirping, an insect clicking, a rodent rustling. He heard nothing but the cracks of bones and skulls as they were crushed under their horses’ heavy hooves. Whether they were animal, human or both, he did not know, but fear made him shiver.<br />
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“Sir!” His shaky voice echoed in the air.<br />
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The squire’s face again sank in disappointment as he watched his master disappear silently into the fog. Tapping Nano to follow, the young boy cursed his father for sending him with this crazy old knight. All he wanted to do was go home, rest and relax. Life had been easy before and that was how he liked it. Despair had set in when a whiff of burning wood suddenly tickled his nose. He sniffed and lifted his head. A blurry orange speck flashed in the distance. The thought of a fire warmed his frightened and weary soul. Jaume pointed excitedly. “Do you see the light, sir?”<br />
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“What?”<br />
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“The light, the light! Do you see it?”<br />
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Senyor Jordi’s thin lips pursed in concentration and the thousands of lines that etched his face deepened as he stared. “I don’t see anything. Then again, my eyes aren’t what they once were,” he said turning and smiling at the squire. “Still, I trust you, boy. Let’s pay them a visit, shall we?” And for the first time since they had heard the woman’s cry atop of the mountain, Jaume didn’t complain about his master’s decision.<br />
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***</div>
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The orange speck led to a clearing in the middle of the forest where a small gray building with a red-tiled roof known as a masia stood. The shape of a box, made of mortar and uncut small boulders, it was built to keep out the damp cold of winter and the blazing summer sun. But even such a sturdy building could do little to prevent the unease that overcame the young squire at the decay and rot that hung in the air like a foul mist. “Sir,” he gagged.<br />
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“Almost there, boy.” Senyor Jordi slowed Anici with a gentle pull of the reins and stopped him with a proud pat on his muscular shoulder. Suppressing a cough, he sat up erect, took off his helmet and tucked it under his right arm. “Ready to see what this is all about?”<br />
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“Yes, sir.” The squire hopped off Nano and tethered him to a brittle wooden post before walking over to his master and taking his helmet. He stepped back and watched as the old knight pushed up on the horse’s neck. His stick arms shook with effort and his rusted chain mail rattled as his right leg barely cleared Anici’s rump. Jaume stepped forward to catch him.<br />
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“Back off, boy,” Senyor Jordi growled as he propped himself up with a hand on each side of the saddle. Taking a deep breath to stop shaking, he relaxed and pushed off, landing with bent knees and a clank. The old knight straightened and faced his squire. “Jaume, I have been doing this by myself since before you were born and will continue doing so. Is that understood?”<br />
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“Yes, sir.”<br />
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“Good.” He turned to Anici and tenderly stoked his long, silver mane. “You never doubt me, do you?” he whispered.<br />
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The horse replied with a neigh, a spit and a shake of the head.<br />
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“Right,” Senyor Jordi barked strolling to his stallion’s side where his trusted sword Ascalon was stored. He grabbed the worn, green hilt and a sheeeeeesh sliced through the air as he unsheathed the long metal blade from its wooden scabbard. The shiny steel caught the light from the house’s small windows and a flaming orange ray shone down on the old man standing proudly in a frayed and ragged white tunic with two crossing red lines.<br />
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“Let’s go,” he said, sheathing Ascalon in the leather scabbard on his side as the ray of light faded and the dreary gray sky returned.<br />
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“Yes, sir,” replied the squire as he followed the knight up a set of crumbling stone steps. His fist pounding on the wooden door brought a scowling woman with long wisps of black hair atop a gaunt face dotted with red sores.<br />
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“Yes,” she said in a frail voice that squeaked like rusted hinges.<br />
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“I am Senyor Jordi. And this is my trusted squire, Jaume.”<br />
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“Who?”<br />
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“Senyor Jordi! I was once the emperor’s most trusted and valued knight until he asked me to renounce my beliefs and I disobeyed him. He tortured me to the point of death but I was too strong to die!”<br />
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“I’ve never heard of you. We live near Barcelona and are far from Nicemedeia. We have no concern for who is in favor with the emperor and who is not.” She paused and pointed to empty pens where healthy pigs once rolled in their own filth, “As you can see, we are facing a fate worse than any edict he could order.”<br />
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“Yes, Senyora. Please, tell me, what has brought such misery upon you poor people?”<br />
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“A dragon.”<br />
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“A dragon!”<br />
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“Yes. It lives in the lake from where we draw our water. At first, it only charged us a sheep and then a pig, but it soon grew bored of our animals’ taste.” She paused and her listless eyes looked to the ground, “Then it ordered us to bring him our daughters.”<br />
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“Please tell me you didn’t.”<br />
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“Of course we didn’t! We refused, but our answer only angered the beast and it rose from the lake and roared such a roar that all the birds left, never to return.”<br />
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“Does the dragon breathe fire?” asked the squire, his face pale at the thought.<br />
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“No, worse. Its breath carries with it pestilence and death and as it raged through the towns, all our crops and flowers withered and died.” She shook her head and her eyes welled with tears. “And when we refused again, it took all our livestock, leaving us only their rotten remains on which to feed.”<br />
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“That woman’s cry we heard?” said the knight.<br />
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“That was the queen. The dragon said the king should not be exempt from the suffering of his people and ordered the princess to be the next sacrifice.”<br />
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“It’s got a point,” muttered the squire.<br />
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“Jaume! No one should have to sacrifice a child to eat and drink,” his master replied before turning to the old woman, “Tell us, Senyora, where can we find this king?”<br />
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She pointed a long bony finger to the black and twisted trees blanketed in a thick fog of the Carlac Forest. “Continue straight down the mountain for about ten minutes and you’ll come to a village by the lake. His castle is on the other side.”<br />
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“Yes, I saw such a village from the mountain’s peak. Let’s go, boy.” Senyor Jordi snapped his boots together. “And Senyora I promise to rid you people of this dragon.”<br />
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“Please don’t try. I do not want to imagine what he’ll do when you fail.”<br />
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“Senyora, one must have faith! Besides, what can be worse than this?”<br />
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“Death,” she replied slamming the door.<br />
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Turning away from the house, the old knight looked at his powerful stallion gnawing on the dirt ground. This was his third Anici. Each one had been the son of the one before and, while they all shared a strength and courage stronger than most men he had known, each had its own distinct personality. The first was stubborn and hardheaded, but the strongest and most courageous. This one carried with it a quiet confidence and strength. “So this is how it is to end - us against the dragon?” he said with a glint in his eye.<br />
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“Sir, you don’t have to do this,” replied the squire.<br />
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“You’re right. I don’t. Then again, I’ve never had to do most things in life, have I?”<br />
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“So why have you done the things you’ve done, sir?”<br />
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“Well, I suppose at first it was to please my father. Like him, I joined the military, but I became a soldier where he was more of a political animal.” The knight’s armor rattled as he started down the steps with his squire following closely behind.<br />
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“And not just any soldier, but one of the emperor’s finest, right?”<br />
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“I don’t know about all that, Jaume. Let’s just say a soldier who succeeded to stay alive.”<br />
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“And then you returned to Nicemedeia.”<br />
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“I’ve told you this story before, haven’t I?” They stopped at their awaiting horses. Senyor Jordi went to Anici’s side and returned Ascalon to the wooden scabbard dangling from the saddle. Lifting his boot into the stirrup, he turned to the young boy, “Jaume, give an old man a hand, would you?”<br />
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“Yes, sir.” The squire eagerly ran over and gave his master a boost up and over the horse that stood so still it could have been a statue.<br />
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“Must conserve one’s energy,” winked the old knight as he settled into the worn saddle and took his batter shield.<br />
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Jaume looked up through pleading eyes. “Sir, about this dragon… Is it wise? At least let me try.”<br />
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“That is very brave of you boy. But you are not ready, and this is my battle.”<br />
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“Yes, sir. But, a dragon?”<br />
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“Yes, I know what we’re facing.” He patted Anici’s shoulders and took the reins. “Now, no more talk. Mount up and let’s go. There is a princess to save!” he shouted, thrusting his arm in the air. His powerful stallion lifted up its front legs and kicked in excitement at the news. The squire’s nervous stomach, meanwhile, knotted in a familiar disappointment as he slunk towards his snorting horse.<br />
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***</div>
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The dense fog soon began to thin, revealing the few mangled tree stumps at the forest’s edge and the start of a gradual dirt slope. The brown wall of the village was not too far off in the distance. Looking at his master sitting on his white horse with his head up and his back straight, the squire remembered the day his father brought the beaten and bloodied man to their home. As the story went, after fighting in the emperor’s many wars for twenty years, Senyor Jordi returned to Nicemedeia a changed man. But instead of retiring into politics like most decorated soldiers, he chose to speak out against the emperor and his edicts and give away all his wealth in the process. The squire once asked his father, “Why?” and his old man responded, “Living through war changes a person.”<br />
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His father was the only one who offered this rational. Most subscribed to the theories that Senyor Jordi had converted to some barbaric, foreign religion and eventually even his old friend the emperor turned on him, ordering him to be lashed on a wheel of swords outside the city’s walls. When Jaume asked the knight the reason behind his change, he replied, “Everyone can change. It’s just a matter of choosing to or choosing not to, and I chose to,” and switched the topic.<br />
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***</div>
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“Jaume, look at this place.” Senyor Jordi’s gravelly voice stopped the squire from thinking about the past as the full horror of the village through which they now rode came down like a fiery sermon. People pushing wheelbarrows stacked with dead bodies dumped their morbid contents against the gray stone of the buildings like trash. In the main square starving men, women and children gathered and begged for food from the chubby priest standing outside the temple’s walls. For the first time in his young life, Jaume understood desperation.<br />
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“Now, do you see why we must try and do something,” said the knight.<br />
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“It is truly horrible, sir. But why us? Can’t someone else do it?”<br />
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“Why not us?”<br />
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“Because we can’t!”<br />
<br />
“Perhaps not, if we try. But for sure, if we don’t.”<br />
<br />
“But Senyor Jordi, you will die.”<br />
<br />
“And so will you one day, Jaume. How you can look around and feel all this misery and destruction and not be moved to do something other than complain is beyond me.” He gently spurred his nervous, spitting horse. “But, I for one, cannot, and will not, sit idly by.”<br />
<br />
“But to battle with a dragon, sir? Is there not something else we can do?”<br />
<br />
“I hope so. I haven’t been in combat in ten years.”<br />
<br />
A man’s desperate pleas cut their conversation short. Senyor Jordi grabbed his wooden shield, banged on it, and slid down his dented visor. “The time is upon us,” he said kicking Anici from a trot into a canter.<br />
<br />
The wind smacking against his face and the sound of Nano’s hooves hitting the ground made the young squire forget where they were heading. He rode so fast with all his concentration focused on staying on his horse that the world ceased to exist as he flew out of the back gate of the walled village. Nano hit the ground in perfect stride and Jaume imagined a different present where he rode towards his neighbor’s daughter, the beautiful Elisenda, who awaited him with open arms. The sight of the round lake with water so black and still that it looked like tar brought back his fear of the future. The squire pulled on the reins to slow down and watched his master approach a rag-tag group of villagers on the banks.<br />
<br />
“What’s going on here?” beckoned Senyor Jordi.<br />
<br />
“They want to sacrifice my daughter,” cried a voice.<br />
<br />
“It’s the only way! It’s the only way!” screamed the group as a fat man with a thick brown beard and a gold embroidered velvet tunic pushed his way through to the front.<br />
<br />
His lips quivering as he spoke, he said, “I am the king.”<br />
<br />
“Bring me your daughter,” commanded Senyor Jordi and the villagers parted to reveal a woman chained to a stake by the lake’s rocky bank. A stunning beauty with long golden locks and sparkling hazel eyes, the pearl and lace girdle of the wedding dress she wore boosted her ample bosom and hugged her round curves. Senyor Jordi, noticing his squire’s slack jaw, pulled alongside and said, “You’d fight a dragon for that, wouldn’t you, boy?”<br />
<br />
Jaume turned red and offered no reply.<br />
<br />
The knight returned his gaze to the princess and lifted up his visor. “What’s this I hear about you being sacrificed?”<br />
<br />
Her trembling voice tried to be firm. “Please, I understand you are a knight and it is your nature to be chivalrous and valiant, but leave us be.”<br />
<br />
<br />
“I don’t understand.”<br />
<br />
“The dragon promised to return the lake and our land if my father sacrificed me.”<br />
<br />
“That is nonsense. There will be no more death!”<br />
<br />
A hiss erupted from the depths of the lake that shook the ground. Rising up to the surface, it grew louder and crashed through with a deafening splash, sending water cascading down like a rain of arrows. In the gray sky, a beast with the black wings of a bat and the head of a snake stretched its arms and legs that were nothing but loosely connected bones and roared.<br />
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The villagers had little desire to face its wrath again and fled while the king hid behind a large rock, leaving only the chained princess, the knight and his squire in its dark shadow. “This girl is not to be sacrificed and you are to give the lake back to the village,” Senyor Jordi shouted as he closed his visor and drew his sword.<br />
<br />
Ascalon glistened and the beast hissed. This time it was more like a laugh than a roar of anger. Flapping its wings to thunderous claps, it soared higher into the air where it became just a dot in the sky. An ear-piercing squeal rang out from the heavens as it dove down like a spear launched from a catapult. “Hold,” ordered the knight with his shield up and his sword steady on his hip, his trembling squire at his side.<br />
<br />
The dragon spread its wings to slow its descent. Like the bat from whose form they took, they moved and fluttered in every direction and angle, giving them a hypnotic quality that held the knight and his squire in a trance. The beast cast an ever darkening shadow over them as it grew closer and stretched a skeletal arm across its chest. It unleashed a back hand smack. The blow rattled Jaume’s helmet and sent him crashing to the ground. Pain numbed his muscles and he could only watch as the laughing dragon flew higher and higher, disappearing from sight. Again, it screamed down. The knight did not hold this time, but turned and spurred Anici into a desperate sprint that left a cloud of dust as he raced towards the cover of the forest.<br />
<br />
The dragon’s icy breath upon his neck, Senyor Jordi said a prayer for courage and strength and yanked the reins of his galloping horse. The beast furiously flailed its wings in futile attempt to stop its forward momentum. Anici’s hooves slid and skidded, its legs almost buckling from the sharpness of a turn that barely evaded the onrushing dragon. <br />
<br />
The crash of breaking trunks and branches filled the air and Senyor Jordi watched as the beast slammed into the trees of the forest, flipping over, landing on its back.“You’re breath is really quite rank,” he teased, as he steadied his proud, neighing horse.<br />
<br />
The dragon rolled onto its belly and began to rise. Slowly spreading its massive wings like a black cape, the towering beast stood on its hind legs and pointed at the knight; its flickering eyes dared him to make his next move. Senyor Jordi traced the red lines that crossed his tunic, cocked the mighty Ascalon back, and charged. The horse’s pounding hooves sounded like the drums of war and the dragon hissed in excitement as it flung its head back to strike. Leaping high in the air, Anici hurtled itself towards the attacking beast, passing just under its clamping jaws. Senyor Jordi sensed the moment to deal the victorious blow, lunged and thrust the long blade deep into the red scales of dragon’s neck, the surrounding trees exploding from a deafening scream as man, beast and horse collided.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
The pain and ringing in Jaume’s head had dulled to the point where the young squire contemplated getting up. Dazed like he had just lost a joust, he rolled onto his stomach, pushed up onto his knees, and staggered to his feet. Looking around, he swayed and saw blurry doubles of a thin man walking towards him with his visor up and a shining smile across his face. “Senyor Jordi, you’re alive!” cried the squire who knew at that moment that he would never doubt or question his master again.<br />
<br />
“Of course, boy. I’m not going to lose to a reptile, no matter how big it is.” Tapping his head to re-enforce the lesson, he said, “The number one rule of a soldier, pick one’s battles wisely. Dragons are a predictable lot. Fly up, swoop down and bite.”<br />
<br />
“Is it dead?”<br />
<br />
“No. In fact, dust yourself off and come with me. I want to show you something.” He brought the young boy in close and hugged him like a son as they strolled towards the lake’s rocky edge. Where the dragon’s crimson had been spilled, the horses munched on the first shoots of green grass that the land had seen in years. Listing to the rustle of a breeze, the squire swore he heard the faint chirp of a bird as he watched an elated princess run up to Senyor Jordi and kiss him over and over again.<br />
<br />
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said.<br />
<br />
His wrinkled white face blushed red and he replied, “That’s alright. I’m a knight. I had to do something.”<br />
<br />
“And you are the bravest one at that!”<br />
<br />
“According to my squire - a stupid one. Right, Jaume?”<br />
<br />
“Hum,” he coughed. “I’ve never called you stupid.”<br />
<br />
“So,” said the king, his tone conveying a restored sense of power and authority, “What do we do with the dragon?”<br />
<br />
“Princess,” said the knight. “Would you do an old man a favor and take off your girdle?”<br />
<br />
“You want me to do what?”<br />
<br />
“Please, I want to show you something.” Senyor Jordi walked to the young girl’s back and clumsily undid the first knot of string. Watching his master undress the princess, Jaume became entranced by her beauty and a dribble of drool formed in the corner of his mouth. The king’s firm hand on his shoulder reminded him that he was not alone.<br />
<br />
“You see.” Senyor Jordi slipped the girdle over the head and around the neck of a beast which no longer seemed so big and menacing, but more like an animal at the emperor’s zoo, “Completely meek and compliant.”<br />
<br />
“Are we supposed to keep it as a pet?” asked the king.<br />
<br />
“No, follow me,” replied the knight as he led the defeated dragon up the smooth slope by a long rope with the king, princess and squire at his side. Cries of horror and the slam of doors greeted them at the brown wall of the village. “Be not afraid people, for the beast has been vanquished.”<br />
<br />
The crack of doors and windows opening was followed by the buzz of conversation as the skeletal villagers trickled out from behind the wall to see if the crazy old knight was right. “Why isn’t it dead? Why isn’t it dead?” they demanded to know.<br />
<br />
Senyor Jordi said, “I will slay it on one condition.”<br />
<br />
“What? What? What?”<br />
<br />
“That you renounce the life you had before the dragon,” he replied. “A life where a few individuals are strong, but the village is weak. A life where a dragon can come, take your lake and make you sacrifice your own children just to live on the rotten remains of all that you once had. For if you don’t do this, this will not be the last dragon to visit your land!”<br />
<br />
Senyor Jordi’s speech had the king squirming and the people chanting, “We swear! We swear! We swear!”<br />
<br />
He raised the sparkling Ascalon into the sky one last time. As it sliced through the gray air, it caught a faint ray of the sun and flashed like an exploding star before coming down across the dragon’s neck to a joyous cheer from the crowd.<br />
<br />
“A blood thirsty lot,” muttered Jaume. His comment did not go unnoticed by the princess whose hazel eyes glared to show that she was not amused.<br />
<br />
“Thank you, thank you,” said the king looking twenty years younger. “You are a true saint! My brother is the Count of Barcelona and I will tell him to erect buildings and anoint a holiday in your honor!”<br />
<br />
“Please don’t," replied the knight. "If anything give your daughter a rose and your son a book. More than anything, just try to heed my words. As you can see, I am an old man who won’t be around to save you the next time.” He stroked Anici’s shoulders and turned to Jaume, “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”<br />
<br />
“Where to now, sir?”<br />
<br />
“Why don’t we pay our old friend Don Quixote a visit and see how many dragons he’s slain, shall we?” Senyor Jordi said as he and his squire rode towards a forest of budding flowers and singing birds to the muffled click, cluck of their horses’ hooves against the soft, grassy ground.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-44050400275903219272010-04-21T08:28:00.000+02:002012-06-09T13:13:56.849+02:00Barcelona Sights - La Sagrada Familia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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No building has come to define Barcelona like <a href="http://www.europe-cities.com/en/786/spain/barcelona/place/24869_sagrada_familia/">La Sagrada Familia</a>. Designed by the city's most famous architect, Antoni Gaudí, it combines neo-Gothic and modernist styles to create a church unlike any I've seen.<br />
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Yet, surprisingly, for all of it's acclaim, the church hasn't been without controversy. George Orwell in his book "Homage to Catalonia" said, "I think the Anarchists showed bad taste in not blowing it up when they had the chance," labeling it "one of the most hideous buildings in the world." More recently, Josep Maria Subirachs's minimalist interpretation of the passion façade brought complaints that it didn't adhere to what was left of Gaudí's original designs, most of which were destroyed by the aforementioned anarchists during the Civil War.<br />
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Beauty or monstrosity? I personally think the former and never tire of getting the chance to walk by, look up and marvel for a second while meeting a friend or running errands. So if you're visiting, there are some great <a href="http://www.hotelcalculator.com/en/1085/spain/barcelona/?lid=19222">hotels close to the Sagrada Familia</a> if you want to stay near by and stroll the tree lined Avenguda de Gaudí, which links the church and the famous Hospital del Sant Pau. <i><br />
</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-1908316254064153932010-04-20T14:27:00.006+02:002012-06-09T13:14:09.123+02:00Cross Cultural Dating and RelationshipsDebating the differences between men and women has been around since the bible it seems. A quick search on Amazon will produce a list of books explaining what makes the sexes different and why. But what happens when there's not just a difference in gender but also in culture? Is it easier, harder to date and maintain a relationship?<br />
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Now, I must confess I'm no expert on women. Even during my swinging single days I wasn't much of a Casanova and I'm far from the idyllic husband, so I'll avoid any dating and relationship advice. But I was single long enough in Spain to notice some differences when it came to the European and Spanish women compared to their counterparts in the states.<br />
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First, however, a little disclaimer. Life in Los Angeles is not an accurate representation of the U.S as a whole. The city is infamous for being a particularly soulless, superficial and harsh place thanks to the allure of Hollywood. Every day beautiful people arrive from all over the world with one goal in mind: to be rich and famous, and as a result, the town is full of narcissistic personality types with pretty faces. Add in the culture of sex, drugs, rock 'n roll, and the porn industry in the San Fernando Valley, and I think you get the picture of what it'd be like to be single there - fun for a bit, but emotionally damaging after a while.<br />
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Maybe coming from L.A. is why, what surprised me most at first, wasn't a defining trait or physical characteristic, but how few women had plastic surgery in Barcelona. Sure, there was the occasional girl with a nose job in a bar and there was <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/12/la-reina-del-pueblo.html">Belen Esteban </a>and her like on <i>telebasura</i>, but nothing like what I'd seen walking around Venice beach or lining up outside a club on Sunset Boulevard. There seemed to be a more natural beauty to European women and an approachability if that makes sense.<br />
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But the differences were more than skin deep. Rarely did the initial banter revolve around work or open with the question, "What do you do?" The topics of conversation tended instead to be about travels, musical tastes, life in Barcelona, languages. Then again, the whole concept of work is much different in Spain, I found. Perhaps it's the high unemployment that sees kids living with their parents until the thirties, but in general having a job and your own room is good enough; you don't also have to do something and live somewhere that impresses people.<br />
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Of course, the idea of dating is a particularly American thing to do, I've been told, which might explain another aspect of life in Barcelona that surprised me my first year. Many locals my age were with their high school or college sweetheart, some with kids. I hadn't known anyone in L.A. like that. It was more Hollywood than Hollywood, where most my friends and I had the philosophy not until we were at least thirty would we even think of settling down. But, luckily for me not all Spanish women married their first love, and after a series of random events I met my future wife at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.<br />
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Relationships are, I think, incredibly complex things, which like dark matter, I only vaguely understand. I will say, though, being with a person from a foreign country definitely adds an element of unpredictability to them. First, there's the question of which language to communicate in. When we met I spoke no Spanish while she spoke English like an Essex girl. We lived in Spain, so the decision was Spanish. My wife, being the native, had the upper hand as far as command and linguistic dexterity. I, however, always had the ready excuse of, "I didn't understand," which was used frequently, especially during the first months. This required a patience at which I still marvel.<br />
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But even when we reached somewhat equality with the language, the way it's spoken can bring about all types of problems. My wife, like many Spaniards I've found, likes to explain everything, at times to the minutest detail, before beginning. I, on the other hand, tend to subscribe to the American belief of keeping it brief, answering questions as they pop up but first let's get started. This can still sometimes be a source of consternation, but that isn't always the case. At first her Spanish directness offended my polite sensibilities, but now she's the one reminding me to say please and thank you.<br />
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Then there's the question of her fiery Latin temper and my disposition mellowed by too much sun and Hollywood in my twenties. So like any couple, we squabble from time to time. How much is due to personality differences and how much is cultural, I don't know. I have, however, discovered a side benefit to being admonished in a language that isn't mine: the intended impact of the words is dulled by the time my brain translates them and registers an emotional response, while at the same time, it's also a great way to learn some <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/06/go-to-shit.html">Spanish expressions</a> like <i>me cago en la leche</i>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-39519492074106983812010-04-18T09:04:00.001+02:002012-06-09T13:14:23.116+02:00Has It Been A Year Already?Well, actually a little bit <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2009/03/benvinguts.html">more</a> and it's incredible how fast the time has gone. I can still recall sitting down in my small office, deciding to write a blog for the first time because I thought it'd help get the book I was writing published. Before I'd even typed a word, I was surprised at how much easier and cheaper it was to run a website than it had been in the mid-nineties. Back then there was the hundred dollar domain registration, the cost of design and hosting. Now, it's ten bucks a year for a domain and that's it. Thanks, Mr. Google, even if you know more about me than I do.<br />
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I remember having the feeling of writing for an audience of one those first few weeks, then I got a comment here and there, sometimes two. Sometimes it was the same person, other times new visitors. This is the beauty of blogging, I think. It's getting the chance to meet people from so many places, from so many backgrounds. Ninety-nine percent I'll probably never meet in person, yet in some way, I feel I know them better than my upstairs neighbor. And it's thanks to these fellow bloggers and readers that I know more about Spain, Europe and Barcelona too.<br />
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When I look at the comments, the post on <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/01/catalunya-or-catalonia.html">Catalunya or Catalonia </a>received the highest number, followed by my tongue in cheek <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/02/rant.html">rant </a>requesting Spaniards to stop using "punky" for punk music, although most of them were a back and forth between Tom at the <a href="http://www.thebadrash.com/">Badrash </a>and I, so the numbers are obviously skewed. After these, the topics related to <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/02/new-religion.html">nationalism </a>and the <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/02/spanish-economy.html">Spanish economy</a> garnered quite a reaction, while <a href="http://www.frombarcelona.com/2010/01/keeping-fit-and-trim-while-smoking-and.html#comments">the comments</a> to the post on eating and drinking in Spain taught me exercising doesn't burn calories, but changes the metabolism. Meanwhile, one of the very first posts I wrote has recently been nominated for an award, so click <a href="http://www.expatica.com/es/lifestyle_leisure/blogs_photos/Vote-for-your-favourite-Expatica-blog-post__15769.html?ppager=2">here </a>and vote, please.<br />
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So what does year two hold? Hopefully, I'll continue to meet new people and learn about new places. I also want to write more about what makes Barcelona, "the great enchantress," as Robert Hughes called her and less about nationalism and the economy because they're a bit tiring and depressing for me. I'm not promising, though. But first, I want to thank everybody for reading. Have a great summer!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-88439232168344545342010-04-16T09:33:00.002+02:002012-06-09T13:11:36.634+02:00Staying in Barcelona - HotelsLike any city, Barcelona offers a variety of places for people coming for a short visit. For those who have been here before or are traveling as a group, holiday apartments tend to the popular way to go, but there are also plenty of hotels and hostels for first timers, couples or backpackers.<br />
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Probably the most famous is the Hotel Arts, which together with the Torre Mapfre, comprises Barcelona's version of the twin towers, but by the beach. The price for an average room is more like a month's rent, and I have to admit even if I had the money, I wouldn't stay there. It's nice and all, but it strikes me as a place for aristocratic families. Of the high end hotels, Omm located on Passeig de Gracia is popular with the younger European crowd. In addition to these, there are also the Palace located in Les Corts a few blocks from Plaças Urquinaona, Hotel Claris on Pau Claris near Passeig de Gracia and Hotel Miramar on Tibidabo.<br />
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<a href="http://www.hotelcalculator.com/en/1067/spain/barcelona/">Barcelona budget accommodations</a> are plentiful and there are many moderately priced hotels located throughout the city. So many in fact, it's difficult to think of one that stands out. After price, the next important consideration I think is location. Personally, I'd avoid any of the hotels on Las Ramblas or Plaça Catalunya because of the nonstop noise and crowds. If you're looking to stay in the city center, any of the numerous ones along Via Laietana, which separates El Gotico and El Borne, would be a better option in my opinion. Again, I'd recommend asking for a room off the street. Diagonal Mar is a relatively new neighborhood on Barcelona's northern beaches with numerous hotels including the Hilton. While not far in terms of distance, it might feel remote in the winter months but less so in summer. <br />
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Finally, for those traveling alone or on a tighter budget, I'd recommend staying at a hostel. It's a great way to meet fellow travelers with whom you can enjoy <a href="http://www.europe-cities.com/en/590/spain/barcelona/attractions/">Barcelona's attractions</a> and turn the town upside down. Nowadays, hostels offer a variety of sleeping options from shared accommodations to individual rooms. At least Hello BCN hostel does.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1574309846539254016.post-45572042041288977482010-04-12T17:37:00.002+02:002012-06-09T13:11:13.940+02:00Holland and SpainHad a nice trip to Holland, the land of tulips, clogs and windmills. One of the many things I find interesting about the country is its historical connection to Spain and the fact it had been a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eighty_Years%27_War">Spanish colony</a> about five hundred years ago, which based on European standards isn't <a href="http://www.lostinsantcugat.com/2010/01/el-papiol-vs-sant-cugat.html">very long</a>. I guess that's why naughty Dutch children are still threatened to be sent to Madrid at Christmas.<br />
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Anyway, perhaps this connection is the reason I've always found the Dutch the most Latin of Northern European people. They work but relax; they'll stop at traffic lights, but cross on red if there are no cars. Service is not a high priority but efficiency is. It also explains, I think, the glutteral aspect of their language and in particular the letter "g" compared to German and Flemish. But it's just a personal theory so if anyone knows the true reason, feel free to let me know.<br />
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Back to posting, but with the change of weather will see how regularly! Here some pics from Alkmaar.<br />
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