Wednesday, February 24, 2010

1.30am, Saturday, August 15, in bed ....perfect

It is a beautiful warm night in late-summer Barcelona and the Festa Major de Gracia is on. I don't think I could have had a more Barcelona experience than I have had this first night in this cheery city.

1. I rode into town on the back of a motor scooter.
2. I saw a parade. It had drummers and sparkler-like fireworks spewing with loud bangs from huge twirling contraptions. It was like a movie parade.
3. I wandered the alley-like streets of the Gracia neighbourhood, ambling in street-filling crowds under the colourful canopies of a neighbourhood festival.
4. I ate tapas.
5. I drank cheap glasses of beer mixed with lemonade while standing in the streets listening to Spanish music that made me want to jump up and down with dancing pleasure.

The draw of the Gracia festival is the street-decorating competition, whereby residents use recycled materials to deck out their streets according to theme. One street - the one that usually wins, R tells me - created a medieval mead hall, complete with a 'stone' castle entrance made from newspaper-stuffed frames, walls lined with various coats of arms, and wonderful paper chandeliers emanating plastic-gel flames.

One street was themed Japanese, with paper and foam cherry blossom trees, a sand garden and a colourful canopy of dangling origami dragons and plastic lotus flowers. Another street had plastic disks hanging from the canopy, first in shades of peaches and pinks, then blues and purples, greens and yellows. It was simple and very beautiful.

Two streets had autumn/Halloween/Carnivale themes, with orange leaves and black bats, while another canopied its blocks with papie-mache autumn branches, another simple and effective design. There was also a woodland sprite street, complete with a large papier-mache fairy statue kneeling above a fountain.

These streets, mind you are packed. You slither through the bodies of people that cover entire streets, inching your way from one block to another.

With R, I ate tapas (in Spain!), sitting at the bar/counter. We had potato in a garlicky mayonnaise and mushrooms coated with garlic, oil and parsley. Delicious.

Later in the evening I couldn't resist dancing to the strains of a Carribean-inflected band at the end of a street. The street wasn't so crowded, the night, I suppose, being still very young. I found myself dancing alone next to a purple-spectacled girl with short curly hair and a pink sundress. I was drawn to her, also dancing alone, and we shared smiles. I wanted to know her and finally talked to me. She spoke English. I'm sure we would have been great friends!

Barcelona is full of a diversity of people decked out in a variety of styles. Everyone (young people) looks great, be they hippy, funky, professional or street.

I would have liked to dance longer - and if I was here with MS or S we'd be dancing all night, I'm sure - but R was hot and not into dancing, so I only danced for 15 minutes or so.

Wonderful!

Thursday, February 4, 2010

7.35pm, Friday August 14, Terminal 7 ....at last

I am on the road again! It is very welcome. I had a day of sleeping in, laundry and wrestling with Auunt K's computer and scanner. But the sun came out in the afternoon; I had my last piece of NY pizza.


Yesterday, before heading to Bronxville on Metro North, I bought an arepa con queso from a Columbian cafe in Woodside and chatted a little bit of Spanish to the waitress. The arepa was delicious and very filling. I wasn't hungry again until late in the afternoon, which found me in Bronxville with L, J and baby L, all also starving. We found a deli, where I had a great, sweet bread pudding and a knish with mustard. Not a real knish unfortunately, but the square kind sold on the street. I never did get to Yonah Schimmel's knishes this visit. I have just finished a pumpernickel bagel, however.


Just before, the news had a feature on the Australian healthcare system, highlighting how Australia’s tax-funded healthcare costs less of the Australian GDP than America’s private systems costs the American GDP. Australians live longer and are happier with their care than Americans. About time we start hearing that kind of rhetoric. Though the story did add that 42% of Australians also have private insurance, attributing it to avoiding long waits and choosing a surgeon of one’s own rather than Howard's tax levy.