I am in Barcelona, Spain. (Wish I could upload pictures, but I can't til I hit up another McDonalds in Paris. That's kind of deflating, actually.)
The weather is perfect. Hot, with a nice breeze off the coast, and just enough sun to give a bloom effect to each and every eccentric facade in the city. Where Paris glows, however, Barcelona sings; the city has a musical pace and rhythmic way of speaking. Everyone is exceptionally kind, refreshing after the cold (albeit mysterious and intriguing) Parisians.
The beach, something I didn't really get to experience last time, is almost too good to be true. The sand is scalding hot and the water is colder than ice, but when combined the two sensations are a uniquely appropriate accompaniment to beers and sun in Barcelona.
I woke up this morning with the windows wide open and the sky more blue than I've ever seen. The city had woken up; the sing-song tune of Spaniards walking to grab tortilla and cortados, the sound of children laughing in the nearby park, and (of course) the very noisy cars four stories below.
I want to continue writing but more than that I want to go back out into the city. Tonight Matthew and our new friend Anya (whom he met at his hostel) are going out for tapas in the Barri Gotic and then meeting up with Rachel and Alex for a little pre-going out wine and snacks. Yo estoy en Barcelona!!!
Showing posts with label Barcelona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barcelona. Show all posts
6.05.2008
American System Integration: Initiating...
I'm back in the U.S. and am already buried in make-believe stress. There's nothing I have to do with deadlines attached, no schoolwork. I really don't even need to write this blog, something that does occasionally add to my stress.
However, here I am. How sad is that? How American is that? I want to blog because it makes me feel accomplished and I love reading my own words. It's true. But at the same time, it would be far less stressful in my life if I didn't.
Enough philosophizing. I've a ton of meat to grind, so let's get cooking.
Spain is a beautiful country. The people are so sincere, and the Spanish live at a pace that all human beings should aspire to live by. No joke, the average work day (9 to 6) has over four hours of breaks. So the eight or nine hour workday becomes a four or five hour workday. The Spanish don't need to be babysat by their careers, and their productivity is still high. There is a mix of cultures, too, but the ties between race and income is scary. The darker your skin in Spain, the less money you make. I know that sounds bad coming from a white guy, but it was an honest observation. The poorer districts had more racial diversity, while the El'xample (where we lived) was wealthy and white.
Let it be, I suppose.
As far as style is concerned, I was only partly impressed. The people of Spain are a practical people. They love their food and their wine and their time off, but they are not superficial in
any way whatsoever. Collectively, they are a confident and proud bunch of people. Usually this converts into great style. I've said it before: Self-confidence comes before good taste and good style. But the Spanish just don't care. I mean, they certainly dress better than most people in the U.S.--lots of skinny jeans, leather jackets, and loose-fitting frocks--but not with the carefully-articulated color combinations and texture mixes that pervade American dressing. Here's a good way to illustrate my point: Ralph Lauren is the American brand. The colors are primary colors, sweetly combined pinks and greens and cloth belts making up a look that appears relaxed but rigidly composed. Spanish designers (the huge chain Mango, for instance. Summer dress from 2007 at right) has shirts with actual feathers and advertises color combinations that are so off the style radar they shock the senses. Banana yellow and mango orange with a baggy pink sweater is a simply example.
However, the clothing in Spain has close ties to nature and the art of Antoni Gaudi, arguably the most influential artist of the twentieth century aside from Picasso. That's why black is simply not a wardrobe choice in Barcelona. When is the last time you saw black in nature and called it beautiful? French design is all about a rebellion against nature. Blacks and harsh blues with touches of polygonal prints are motifs found throughout all of modern clothing design, but not in Spain.
Zara, however, offers a really refreshing look at men's clothing. Besides being ridiculously affordable, the clothes push men to dress well without knowing it. You can buy a polo, or you can buy a polo at Zara. The Zara piece, though, will have a soft-cotton collar and a v-neck design, bringing both timelessness and a bit of immediacy to the entire look. But how would anyone notice that unless they are obsessive compulsive and control freaks like me?
I have picture of their Summer 2007 collection for women to the left. I'll post more from their men's collection later, or at least what I bought myself.
So here I am. I'm happy to be home, but only because I get to see my dogs and take a bath lying down. I am proud to be an American, but I'm not proud of how the states look from the top of Monjuic in Barcelona.
Still to come:
-My RI-DI-CU-LOUS ring
-H&M...it exists
-A few new artists
To close, I'd like to say I'm very proud of Katy Perry. She's frickin' stuck to her guns and now's got a top-ten single on pop radio. Way to go. Not since The Killers "Sombeody Told Me" has an artist written about sexuality so honestly and gotten a hit out of it. I have that weird half-happy feeling though, like I did when other favorite bands went big. Keane, Sara Bareilles, Lily Allen, Amy Winehouse, Lupe Fiasco...but you know what, it's cool. As long as she's happy and keeps making music.
However, here I am. How sad is that? How American is that? I want to blog because it makes me feel accomplished and I love reading my own words. It's true. But at the same time, it would be far less stressful in my life if I didn't.
Enough philosophizing. I've a ton of meat to grind, so let's get cooking.
Spain is a beautiful country. The people are so sincere, and the Spanish live at a pace that all human beings should aspire to live by. No joke, the average work day (9 to 6) has over four hours of breaks. So the eight or nine hour workday becomes a four or five hour workday. The Spanish don't need to be babysat by their careers, and their productivity is still high. There is a mix of cultures, too, but the ties between race and income is scary. The darker your skin in Spain, the less money you make. I know that sounds bad coming from a white guy, but it was an honest observation. The poorer districts had more racial diversity, while the El'xample (where we lived) was wealthy and white.
Let it be, I suppose.
As far as style is concerned, I was only partly impressed. The people of Spain are a practical people. They love their food and their wine and their time off, but they are not superficial in
any way whatsoever. Collectively, they are a confident and proud bunch of people. Usually this converts into great style. I've said it before: Self-confidence comes before good taste and good style. But the Spanish just don't care. I mean, they certainly dress better than most people in the U.S.--lots of skinny jeans, leather jackets, and loose-fitting frocks--but not with the carefully-articulated color combinations and texture mixes that pervade American dressing. Here's a good way to illustrate my point: Ralph Lauren is the American brand. The colors are primary colors, sweetly combined pinks and greens and cloth belts making up a look that appears relaxed but rigidly composed. Spanish designers (the huge chain Mango, for instance. Summer dress from 2007 at right) has shirts with actual feathers and advertises color combinations that are so off the style radar they shock the senses. Banana yellow and mango orange with a baggy pink sweater is a simply example.However, the clothing in Spain has close ties to nature and the art of Antoni Gaudi, arguably the most influential artist of the twentieth century aside from Picasso. That's why black is simply not a wardrobe choice in Barcelona. When is the last time you saw black in nature and called it beautiful? French design is all about a rebellion against nature. Blacks and harsh blues with touches of polygonal prints are motifs found throughout all of modern clothing design, but not in Spain.
Zara, however, offers a really refreshing look at men's clothing. Besides being ridiculously affordable, the clothes push men to dress well without knowing it. You can buy a polo, or you can buy a polo at Zara. The Zara piece, though, will have a soft-cotton collar and a v-neck design, bringing both timelessness and a bit of immediacy to the entire look. But how would anyone notice that unless they are obsessive compulsive and control freaks like me?I have picture of their Summer 2007 collection for women to the left. I'll post more from their men's collection later, or at least what I bought myself.
So here I am. I'm happy to be home, but only because I get to see my dogs and take a bath lying down. I am proud to be an American, but I'm not proud of how the states look from the top of Monjuic in Barcelona.
Still to come:
-My RI-DI-CU-LOUS ring
-H&M...it exists
-A few new artists
To close, I'd like to say I'm very proud of Katy Perry. She's frickin' stuck to her guns and now's got a top-ten single on pop radio. Way to go. Not since The Killers "Sombeody Told Me" has an artist written about sexuality so honestly and gotten a hit out of it. I have that weird half-happy feeling though, like I did when other favorite bands went big. Keane, Sara Bareilles, Lily Allen, Amy Winehouse, Lupe Fiasco...but you know what, it's cool. As long as she's happy and keeps making music.
5.31.2008
Girona, Spain
Things just get better and better here in Spain. The weather is balmy but cool, the skies are blue but gently kissed with clouds, and my posts are getting cornier and cornier.
Anyways, I'm a tiny bit tipsy from a bottle of cavas we had at dinner, so I'll keep this short. By the way, cavas--the Spanish version of French champaign--is far superior than its European counterparts, and I'm going to actively seek it out stateside.
We went to Girona on Friday. It's about 1 1/2 hours outside Barcelona. Inland, actually. It's a sleepy town with great food, only a few tourists, and surprisingly upscale shopping. I bought a ring at an authentic Gironas bijoux store. I'll write it in a Mad Style section later. For now, here's a few pictures of the straight-out-of-fantasy Girona, Spain.
Anyways, I'm a tiny bit tipsy from a bottle of cavas we had at dinner, so I'll keep this short. By the way, cavas--the Spanish version of French champaign--is far superior than its European counterparts, and I'm going to actively seek it out stateside.
We went to Girona on Friday. It's about 1 1/2 hours outside Barcelona. Inland, actually. It's a sleepy town with great food, only a few tourists, and surprisingly upscale shopping. I bought a ring at an authentic Gironas bijoux store. I'll write it in a Mad Style section later. For now, here's a few pictures of the straight-out-of-fantasy Girona, Spain.
5.29.2008
Barcelona, Tarragona Spain
It's been a while since I've posted here (sorry), but there has been so much to do. When a city is this exciting it becomes difficult to peel myself away and update The Happiest Activist. It's even harder when I'm not blogging about style...
Yesterday we ventured out to a nearby city, much smaller than the Barce, named Tarragona. At first it was hellish. That is no exaggeration. We arrive from the train station and attempted a self-tour of the ancient Roman ruins scattered throughout the city. Well, it is still a city. And cities have highways. And the only way to get to the Roman aqueducts (something I'm still dying to see) we would have to walk on this highway. With impatient Spanish traffic, ghetto neighborhoods at all sides, and tired feet to cap it off. It was worst experience we have had in Spain, without question.
If you haven't guessed by now, we turned around in such a foul mood I was ready to call it quits and just head home. HOWEVER, we (I) called a taxi and FINALLY found the Roman quarter, sans aqueducts. Beautiful, sun-kissed buildings and red tiled roofs, children playing soccer in the street--it was idyllic. We ate at a rip-off cafe because everything else was closed, but as mom and I finished off an entire bottle of red wine (botella de tinto), the sun appeared from the gray abyss like a great travel guide falling from the sky when you're walking on a screeching highway in rural Spain, both literally and figuratively. Mom was drunk, which was far more disturbing than can be put into words, but we meandered around the stunning scenery and finished the day watching the sun set from an ancient Roman circus tower. The Mediterranean is far more beautiful in real life, with sunlight (lol) than in pictures. The day started out so bad, but ended up being one of my favorites on the entire trip.
We got home around 10 and grabbed dinner at a fantastic restaurant in the Catarina market. I had a chicken and tofu red curry, and as a self-styled Thai connoisseur I deemed it the best I've ever had. Seriously.
I'm off to see Casa Mila and Casa Batllo.
5.23.2008
"You comprendo english?"
So, Barcelona (or "The Barce" as Bo and I have come to calling it) is amazing. Duh. But it's getting better and better every hour--because so few people speak English and the lifestyle is so dramatically different from that of the U.S. it takes a good while to get oriented.
The people are friendly, but not as much as Paris, in my opinion. I suppose that's simply my assumption because so few can respond in English. I'm getting along well speaking Spanish, however. I'm heading off now to see some of Gaudi's work around the city. Here are some pictures of yesterday.
These are all pics Bo and I think are "ballin'."
5.22.2008
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