Story: Barcelona on a Rainy Day

Cities are like people, and take just as long to get to know. Constantly flowing, living, moving, and changing, they are full of secrets waiting to be revealed to those dedicated to discovering them. Barcelona continues to ellude me. It is certainly different from anything else I have known in Spain. Since the cities inception, it has been a place of trade, of interaction, of cultural diversity. Located on the coast, it has always been full of people coming and going, speaking in various tongues and bringing with them their customs in food, art and everyday life. While Barcelona reaches toward the rest of Europe, desiring contact and initiating conversation, the rest of Spain sees itself as separate and distinct, and craves to be identified as different and independent. With Starbucks and McDonald´s on every corner, corporate America still tempts me in Barcelona from across the ocean. In Barcelona, it is easy to pretend you are anywhere in the world.

I spent a summer in Barcelona with my 4-year-old niece, who ended up being one of the best travel partners I've ever had... although I did learn how difficult it is to maneuver in a city with a child in a stroller. Getting on and off trains, metros and buses can be a nightmare! For our first outing, we went to the Barri Gotic, the medieval heart of the city. We walked to the Arc de Triumph on the outskirts of the barrio, similar to the one in Paris in that it leads to nowhere. At first nothing about this structure struck me as special. Passing under the arch, nothing overtook me. But once through, looking back at the sky and the city building framed in its curve, I was overwhelmed by the beauty. Returning to the stone structure, I found two inconspicuous stone bats with breasts pegged on either side -- in great contrast to the Romanesque frieze at the top complete with heavenly angels and royal lions.

The Triumphal Arch was built in 1888 as the entrance to the Universal Exhibition. Now it leads eventually to the city park beyond, the Ciutedella, built on top of the city´s old citadel. Covering 700 acres, the park is full of hidden treasures: fountains, statues, small ponds, benches in the shade of old trees. While Sofia took her afternoon nap in the stroller, I searched aimlessly for the famed woman holding a parasol, but never found her.

From the park we plunged headfirst into the narrow and winding streets of the Barri Gotic, so typical of Mediterranean cities with balconies hanging overhead, draped in flowers and plants, and windows with shutters painted in bright greens and blues. I managed to get us to the city Cathedral by following what seemed to be a tall stack of dinosaur bones that would show itself periodically through breaks between the buildings. The Cathedral of Saint Eulalia is as Gothic as it gets. Goblins and saints invited us to pass under the intricate rose window and into the great hall, where the ribs of the dinosaur have been stretched overhead to form a scene of holy intimidation. Sofia awoke from her nap to this splendid ceiling, blinking her eyes to clear the blur and orient herself. "Mira!" ("Look!") was her response. Yes, love, look. Wow.

We moved passed the choir to the altar, too many details to take in all at once, and took a right into the portico around the cloister. Sofia busied herself with the small fountains spurting water that led into a pond wetting a family of geese, while I wandered the portals, taking in the sights of tombs and holy relics and scenes of the crucifixion.

Emerging from the great belly of the Gothic dinosaur into a light rain, we headed across the street to the Palace of Catalan Music. Built in 1908 by Lluis Domenech i Montaner, the palace houses the Orfeo Catala, the Catalan Choir, and was created to preserve the music of Catalunya. In the art nouveau style (called modernista in Spain), it is typically inspired by nature and successfully creates the illusion of an earthy paradise. Winged horses fly out of the corners, women emerge from the walls carrying musical instruments, and stained glass windows full of roses and light surround the hall. The central theme is a stained glass sun in the center of the ceiling, and everything seems to grow towards it. The columns that support the building are covered in flowery vines, and even the chandeliers lean towards the circle of yellow and orange. After the Palace, Sofia and I headed back into the rain towards home, happily exhausted from our time under the sun.