Barcelona

Just returned from a much needed trip to Barcelona with the lady friend. Here are some highlights:

1. Discovering that the Catalunyan people have a national fixation with the act of taking a dump. I am not making this up and it is well documented. One example: at Christmastime they make nativity scenes of the entire city of Bethlehem (not just the manger and the wise men) with little figurines of all the city people doing their thing. In it, they always hide a little guy called "the shitter" doing, what else, the deuce. There are tons of other examples.

2. Exploring the insane genius of architect Antoni Gaudi. Best known in the US as the guy behind the church that graces the cover of every single Barcelona tour book, he was by no means a one hit wonder. Imagine a city where the weathliest citizens compete to have an architect design their townhomes and apartment buildings, which the architect then turns into huge undulating forms of stained glass and mosaic. If you live in Atlanta, this is probably literally impossible.

3. Renting an apartment in Barcelona's version of Buford Highway - La Ramba de Raval. Despite being an impossibly old-world city of narrow streets punctuated by charming plazas, in 1996 Barcelona decided to give Jane Jacobs a giant middle finger and carve out a huge, sterile modernist square to house its Museum of Contemporary Art two blocks from our apartment. The Museum was designed by the same guy who designed Atlanta's High Museum and they bear an uncanny resemblance to one another. The square, of course, killed any hint of neighborhood life on that block. A completely unintentional side effect was that the multi-level entryway to the Museum makes an excellent skate park. At night, a hundred or so hipsters hang out around the museum skating and buying single beers off dudes in turbans who walk around with sixpacks. An excellent way to spend an evening after a week of somewhat overly cute cafes.

4. Barcelona is packed with tourists this time of year. Like, standing on the bridge outside of Sanford Stadium after a football game packed. Although I would guess only 2 or 3 percent of these were American, they were straight up fannypack wearing, short shorts with calves white as egg shells having, talking in church while stuffing their fat fucking faces with ice cream touristas. It's reassuring to know that your own kind are not really any worse than average.

5. Going to the Salvador Dali museum in his home town of Figueres an hour and a half away. Like most of you probably, my main opinion of Dali was that he is the guy who decorated the apartment of every American male between the ages of 18 and 25. He was big on the melting watches and such, of course, but also really into huge Dada-ish multimedia installations that are much more interesting, if also much harder to reproduce as a poster. Also, very much into poop (see #1).

I would post some photos, but I still use film so you will have to wait until I get a scanner or something.