Inspired observations gained from my travels, matched to a music track and made into a quirky blog from a recalcitrant Lancastrian.
recalcitrant
rɪˈkalsɪtr(ə)nt/
adjective
1.
having an obstinately uncooperative attitude towards authority or discipline.
noun
1.
a person with a recalcitrant attitude.
"a stiff-necked recalcitrant and troublemaker"
☯️
Start with what is right rather than what is acceptable.
Franz Kafka.
Next trip coming soon….
Further down the Mediterranean coast you come to Tarragona.
A typical Spanish seaside beach town where the Romans used to come on holiday every Augustus.
You can tell this by all the unfinished stone tat that they have left behind. Old rundown towers with broken steps, half built ancient ruins, archaeological forums and even half an amphitheater, full of blatant trip hazards and a health and safety nightmare in my opinion!
Our place is just off a quaint little square with a view of a bloke with a pigeon on his head…
‘Made of Stone’ was an iconic indie banger back in the day by them moody ‘Stone Roses’.
When the blistering August sun is high in the sky and the ice cold water drips off the wine cooler on to your bony toes below, under the shaded table loaded with fine locally sourced Cava, then you know it’s a sign to take the afternoon slowly:Despacito
From time to time, quietly wallowing in the infinity pool, sloshing about majestically as vast quantities of water occasionally dissipate over the lip of the horizon…
Returning only to the pack to graze elegantly on sumptuous, rustic offerings while switching off from reality…
Our magnificent tanned hide sinks gracefully into a waiting deckchair…awaiting the sunset.
“Only mad frogs and Englishmen would go out in the noonday sun…”
Today’s choice of tune is sadly Espania’s most streamed song apparently?
I’m sure 80 year old Julio Englasiass would have something to say about that as he’s been a popular pub singer in the hit parade ever since Franco was in charge!
Taking the Renfe R4 train line took us out of the metropolis for €6.10 and into the more accustomed rural wine region of ‘Penedes’. This area, notable for the production of an impressive 95% of Spain’s Cava, meant that the obvious thing to do was to stay in the middle of a vineyard. Magnus & Marta had the very place.
The DO (Denominación de Origen) for a wine is its identity, and the grapes used to make this amber nectar need to come from said place. They also need to be of good quality so that’s where I step in…Maccabeo grapes🍇. Obviously named after the great wine aficionado, ‘Garybaldi ‘of Aldi’ Maccabeo’, founder of said grape and knowledge of all things vino, a pioneer, troubadour fashionista and swashbuckling debutante around these parts.
Not wanting to blow my own trumpet (PARP!) but Iv found my roots and they ain’t courgette, do u know wot I’m sayin’?
“I’m like Chardonnay, get better over time,
Heard you say I’m not the baddest bitch, you lie”
As the afternoon sun came over the yard-arm, it was time to lather up the Cillit Bang 💥 and enjoy a glass of bubbles by the pool.
Today’s accompaniment comes from US hip-hop rapper and good time gal ‘Lizzo’ with unlimited positivity and boundless energy, you can’t help having a smile and a jig to this…
Ok, it’s not possible to leave Barcelona, even on a short trip, without visiting at least one of the crazy mans iconic works. After a morning cortado at our favourite old coffee house its was time for a walk up the impressive and affluent ‘Passeig de Gracia’ to take a gander at old Antonio Gaudi’s avante garde workmanship. His backer, Mr ‘loadsamoney’ Guell, gave him free rein, and boy did he take advantage of this opportunity. ‘Casa Batllo’ was testimony to this and his bonkers architecture can be found dotted all around this city.
When you have seen one work of art, you get the gist…
“This boy needs therapy”
“ you’re crazy in the coconut”
To pay homage to this guy I have selected an appropriate track by the ‘Avalanches’, ‘Frontier Psychiatrist’ fits the bill with an equally bonkers video to accompany. Relax, kick off your courgette root slippers and enjoy…
Without a doubt, Barcelona is a cool place and a vibrant revamped city so heading back down to the waterfront, catamaran ‘Orsom’ was waiting to take us out to catch the evening sunset with a bit of on-board live jazz wafting around the spinnaker…
Il finish the evening blog with a bit of classy and sassy, Nina Simone…Buenos Noches!
So it turns out we got scammed last night on arrival…
It wasn’t the Arc de Triumf in gay Pari but a poor Chinese replica erected for the gullible tourists visiting downtown Barthalona. That said, it was a pretty good copy.
A walk into town in the morning revealed all. We quickly skiddadled down the easily forgettable touristic Ramblas high street to visit the historic landmark which is a celebration of the great Catalan explorer Christopher Columbus after he heroically found the U S of A in the 1400’s.
His erect colon stands proudly overlooking out towards the Mediterranean Sea , in front of a modern marina built in the early 90’s, like a lot of this area, for the Olympic Games of 1992. Off then for a spin around the seafront on a Bolt bike and then up to the spot where old Tony Gaudi was killed.
Gaudi was a pretty famous architect and a DIY hero around these parts but died in 1926 before he could finish anything he had started. He was run over by a tram after a darts night in the Marsella bar after a heavy drinking session on absinthe with his good mates, Salvador Dali and Ernest Hemingway. Reminiscent of when Alan Bradley got fatally killed in Blackpool by a tram when he was chasing Rita Fairclough….
I digress…
Anyhow, they were celebrating after beating Pablo Picasso’s boys from the Red Lion up the road and strangely, when he was found, he had safety pins holding his undies together and he was discovered wearing a pair of slippers made out of courgette roots….FACT!
I couldn’t face selecting Freddie Mucury’s appalling version of this song so I went with the popular, but less known, ginger version singing it actually in Barcelona.
I wish Emirates flew to here…maybe then I wouldn’t have felt like I’d spent 2 hours in a bloody crèche with noisy brats, high on Haribo, squawking and banging the back of my chair all the damn way! It was a relief to see the Pyrenees below as we started the decent back into normality and away from irresponsible parenting!
Metro to the hotel was a blur then it was time for a cold beer by the local landmark, the Arc de Triumf…I love France!
You gotta love a quirky catchy song when your on yer hols and this from the lovely France Gall is no exception, so enjoy some French flair remastered from 1964.
