Author: Nathan

Going through the photos and remembering our time in Barcelona, I’m still fascinated. The history, architecture, food, city life, language. The first phrase I asked to learn in Catalan was “What, you think I’m a tourist?” They said I had the accent down pretty well, but then again, I had nothing to follow up with except to ask for help finding the bathroom. Good thing they speak Spanish, too.

My favorite food of the entire trip was at the Boqueria, a famous market downtown. We stopped at a seafood vendor that both sells and serves it fresh. I had a plate full of grilled scallops, calamari, octopus, shrimp, and a variety of clams and muscles. I get hungry just thinking about it.

And then there’s the famous Catalonian architect Gaudí. This guy must have been busy, because it seemed like he designed half of the city. After seeing his sculptures, buildings, park, and basilica, I was hooked. Fun fact: Gaudí was killed in his home town by a trolley car. He left a masterpiece unfinished.

As the proud owner of a digital SLR camera, I notice other people’s cameras. At Gaudí’s Park Güell, I noticed the guy taking pictures next to me had an Olympus digital SLR. I heard him speaking English to his family, “Oh come on, you always complain when I’m taking the pictures but gush about how much you love them afterward.” I kept my distance from the obvious US American tourist and maintained the discipline of speaking Spanish to try and blend in. A few minutes later, our Catalan guide Marta said, “Hey, that’s Leonardo DiCaprio! Take my picture with him!”

He was walking away at that point, and I was caught off guard. I’ve never had the opportunity to be a paparazzo. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be one. Marta approached the guy who appeared to be the body guard. He affirmed it was DiCaprio, but denied the request for a photo. I couldn’t help sneak one in while no one was looking. Rosario and I went through the video footage and could see him in a few of the shots. On the tape, we could see the body guard positioning himself to block the camera. We were clueless at that point anyway. Sooner or later I’ll upload the footage.

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Three days later, we were boarding a plane to Hanover. Next stop, the World Cup in Germany.

Gema (from Spain) and Sergio (from Cuba) were our tour guides through Elche, Alicante and Valencia. We visited the Lady of Elx, the City of Arts & Sciences, and the Castle of Santa Barbara.

Before meeting Gema, I had never heard of Elche. Unfortunately, the one evening I didn’t bring my camera, we walked through the most scenic areas. It looked like a Hollywood backlot, some kind of Spanish Disneyland. Everything was clean and beautiful and layered with history.

On the drive from Elche to Valencia, we drove past three castles each only a few miles from the next. I tried to imagine what kingdom life must have been like, but scenes from the Lord of the Rings started overtaking my own royal hallucinations. Amidst the shame of my pop culture brainwashing, I did decide a future dream home must be a castle. Or at least have cannons.

At the City of Arts & Sciences (Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciéncies / Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias), we were surprised to see a cart selling orxata. For two euro, we sampled this local drink made from tigernuts (chufas), sugar, and water. It tasted surprisingly like Mexican horchata. It definitely hit the spot in the heat.

Back in Elche at Gema’s parents’ home, we ate home cooked Valencian cuisine and had our fair share of healthy political discussions with lots of loud voices. Rosario brought several jalapeño chiles with her, and shared a few pieces with our hosts. Gema’s 86 year-old grandmother proved to be the macha of the bunch, enjoying several large pieces of a raw jalapeño. After the first bite, I was afraid Rosario had just killed her. But after the initial shock dissipated, she went back seconds.

Now four days into our trip, we flew to our next stop, Barcelona.

Thirty six hours after leaving San Diego, we arrived in Madrid. I was immediately impressed by the architecture of the Madrid Barajas Airport. I’m not sure if the lack of sleep from two red-eye flights had anything to do with the euphoria I was feeling on my way to the baggage claim, but I was fascinated nonetheless.

Our hosts for the 24 hour stay in Madrid were relocated Peruvians Graciela, Hector and their little girl Gracielita. It was my first time meeting them; Rosario met Hector and Graciela in Perú four years ago. They’ve moved to Madrid in search of a “better life” as the saying goes. I typed out “American Dream” and then deleted it because I suppose it couldn’t be accurate since they are in Spain . . . but it’s basically the same ambition.

When we arrived at their flat, Graciela offered us the famous Spanish jamón serrano with cheese on triangles of white sandwich bread. It’s a good thing my understanding of “authenticity” is already well warped, because a Mexican and U.S. American served a traditional Spanish food on white bread by Peruvians would otherwise seem strange. I ate my serving and Rosario’s as well (she hadn’t warmed up to the idea of eating raw pig yet).

We took a nap to recover a bit from the jetlag and then headed downtown for a tour. The urban train system was much cleaner than the NYC metro we used 12 hours earlier. We wandered around and took a few pictures. The central downtown area was beautiful. It’s no coincidence the architecture reminded us of older cities in México; many of these buildings could have been built by the same people at the same time in México.

We left the next morning on route to Elche.