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 STANDING before me is a man in a black leotard, his
long red hair flailing as he pogos across the stage. He grins
manically at the enthusiastic crowd, while delivering lines from a
medley of Police songs with, I assume, chemically enhanced vigour,
backed by a Gene Simmons look-alike on screaming lead guitar and a
strangely impassive giant on the bass.
To say that this flamboyant, cabaret cover act, who go by the
name Apache, do not have their finger on the pulse is to miss the
point. As our Mick Hucknall-on-speed belts out Message in a Bottle,
putting Zebedee to shame in the process, the beautiful people of
Barcelona
party like it's 1999. I get the feeling this is going to be a long
night.
Fast-forward eight hours. It's turfing-out time at Luz de Gas, a
theatre/nightclub in downtown
Barcelona. It's just turned 6am and even Catalonian clubbers
have to put their heads down sometime, so I stumble out into the
dark and ponder my next move. Or, to be more precise, which
direction my next move should be in, as I am helplessly lost.
Thankfully, taxis are easier to come by in Barcelona than in
Edinburgh, so in the time it would take me to say "dos cervezas
por favor" (two beers please) - actually, quite a while, given my
less-than-stable state - I'm being driven back to the safety of my
hotel room.
I'm here for 48 hours on a mission to find out what this famous
city on Spain's
Costa Brava has to offer. Starting from a point of relative
ignorance, it's a challenge. But, determined to try out my
beginner's Spanish, it's one that I was relishing from the moment
our plane touched down on a pleasingly warm November evening.
Our base for the weekend is the
Grand Hotel Central in the heart of the gothic centre. The hotel
manager explains that his aim is to create an oasis for people to
rest during a whirlwind trip to one of Europe's liveliest cities.
Certainly, the dim lighting and chocolate-brown and cream tones are
mercifully easy on tired eyes.
My room is spacious, with a tremendously comfortable bed, but the
hotel is a little too boutique for my liking: it could do with a few
more light bulbs, particularly in the corridor where walking into
the walls can be as much of a hazard in the middle of the afternoon
as it is in the middle of the night.
After checking in, we meet in the hotel's restaurant, Actual, for
dinner. It is run by Ramon Freixa, one of Spain's most respected
chefs; he received his second Michelin star during our stay. "I like
to make distinctively
Catalan dishes, but with a modern twist," he explained as we
scanned the tantalising menu. The pumpkin ravioli was amazing; the
sweet orange flesh providing a wonderful accompaniment to the gooey
pasta. I was less impressed with the main course of king prawns and
truffles, but the chocolate tart was fine.
We finished our meal and decided to wander. "Oh, just turn left
and head down the hill," were our directions. They didn't mention
anything about the labyrinth of back streets and alleys we'd find at
the foot of the hill, however. We headed for the famously lively
waterfront, but took a wrong turn and ended up in a cosy drinking
hole full of young Bohemian types. We stayed for a while, in what
turned out to be the fashionable Barrio Born, drinking cervezas
until 2:30am, before heading back to the hotel. A quiet night, then,
by buzzing Barcelona's standards.
The next morning we were up early for a quick tour of the hotel.
The highlight was the panoramic view across the old-town skyline
from the hotel's roof-top swimming pool. Then it was time to plunge
headlong into the city's abundant culture, history and street life.
Our guide took us on a walking tour of the Barrio Gotico - which
lies within the city limits once marked by the medieval walls, until
they were torn down in the 19th century. A minute's walk from the
hotel took us to the city's cathedral. Its majestic façade looks on
to a square that is a magnet for tourists, young lovers and workers
stopping for an al fresco lunch.
Inside, the cloisters provide respite, apart from the honking
geese who have made the place their home. From there we meandered
through the alleyways, passing endless shops, and made for the
Ramblas. This busy thoroughfare is a big draw and, with its mime
artists and overpriced cafés, can seem a little tacky. The sprawling
boulevard is a great place to people-watch, but, for me, its main
attraction lay behind a set of iron gates which lead you into the
Mercado de la Boqueria, one of Europe's most spectacular food
markets. A fantastic variety of cheeses can be found at Quesos
Rivas, stand no 889 - which gives an idea how big the market is. We
stop for lunch and find a perch next to Pinocchio's - named after
the owner's dog which apparently died several decades ago - and wolf
down some tasty tapas.
With little more than a day to spare, I decided to dedicate the
rest of the afternoon to one of Barcelona's biggest attractions -
the architecture of Antoni Gaudi. Born in 1852, he worked at a time
when Barcelona was open to new ideas, with an upper-middle class
hungry for ostentatious displays of wealth and power.
The first stop is Casa Mila, a 20-minute walk from the Ramblas
along Paseo de Gracia. Known locally as La Pedrera (the quarry), the
apartment block has a magical interior and an extraordinary façade
which has graced a million postcards. The opportunity to walk on the
rooftop, admiring the mysterious and magical curves of the chimneys,
was unmissable.
From there, I took a taxi inland to another of Gaudi's most
famous works, Parc Guell. Only two of 60 houses originally planned
for the site were built, but Gaudi's influence is obvious, from the
snaking paths that cut into the hillside to the mesmeric mosaic
patterns on walls. Beyond the park, we spotted a hill that appeared
to offer a great vantage point over the city. With the sun setting,
the view of the city and coast stretching for miles north and south
was simply breathtaking and perhaps the biggest highlight of the
trip.
After that, we navigated our way through meandering suburban
streets, passing kids playing football; mums and dads coming home
from work. It was getting late so we jumped in a taxi and made for
Gaudi's most emblematic and arresting work, the Sagrada Familia.
Work began on the church in 1883 and it is still not complete - a
fact that indicates the complexity and scale of the project. The
gothic façade is jaw-droppingly spectacular, while inside you marvel
at the symphony of intricate stonework, floral crosses and
unexpected shapes that makes the Sagrada Familia first on the list
for most visitors.
We dragged ourselves away and returned to our hotel in
preparation for a big night out. Apache's frontman was quite
possibly picking out his leotard and practicing his pogo jumps. From
the sublime to the ridiculous, Barcelona's got the lot. sm
This is Apache, and we are, frankly, bewildered.
The calm ambience definitely makes it easier to ignore the bustle
wafting up from the busy street below.
Several of the rooms have been adapted to provide visitors with a
wealth of information on Gaudi's life and works.
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Grand
Hotel Central Barcelona
