So today I´m off to the Sagrada Familia with the primary school, Grades 5 and 6 I believe. I´m off soon, but I found this fantastic video on vimeo of the incredible building, Enjoy!
La Sagrada Familia
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
19/02
Well the weekend was a funny one. Apart from being extremely tired from the week preceding - I slept till 11am on the saturday, straight through - it was nice; I was in some sort of sleep-deprived hangover where everything was kinda dreamlike and being in a fairytale city such as Barcelona, well, it only intensified the feeling... Nevertheless it was nice. I've already recounted Saturday's activities, and in brief the pissup with the language assistants on friday night - not much of a pissup, I only had 2 beers then had to amble home - again in desperate need for sleep. Anyway, I'm all recovered now and that's the main thing. So on Sunday, I missed the castell's, who are similar to the Falcon's except with more grandeur, people and pizazz or so I've been told. Never fear though, because I saw the delightful spectacle of Leeds United verses Manchester City. I knew we were going to loose so I had no expectations... but in the first 5 minutes.. really boys. Plus, it didn't help matters when the referee awarded a dubious penalty on the 15 minute mark. And there it was, I can't remember which overpaid twat hammered it home, but the game was over within 15minutes! Sam Street informed me that the never-ending pain of the Leeds fans was taken light-heartedly; apparently they were chanting "You're nothing special, cos Watford scored 6!" Lol. Say what you will about Leeds fans, racist hooligans yes maybe there are a few, but still, they never fail to let their sense of humour prevail. Well just when I was settling down to get depressed from the scoreline by chugging my Guinness and demanding ten more; I was assaulted by a chap from Aylesbury. Well not physically assaulted, but orally anyway. He was alright to be fair. A chelsea fan, at least that's what he said. But he just started ranting on about the Catalan people being dicks, especially the women. It's funny isn't it, the men who all hate women seem to have one thing in common, they haven't been with many (sometimes any). I asked what he was doing here; he'd been in Barcelona for ten years, Amsterdam the ten immediately preceding, he hated England and all his mates because they'd left and gone back to England where they spent their time getting wasted on Cocaine - a "snuffle" I think was the word he used - getting brain-washed by adverts so they became a "neo-battery plugged into the matrix" - a nice phrase I must admit - and generally being "tossers". He hated the Catalans because they are rude, don't invite strangers to share a pint with them - and if it was this bloke I can see why - and the women don't give him a chance because he's got too much energy for them and they don't have a sense of humour. He's also a former DJ, loves house music but said they're not into it in Spain, another thing he lamented. Well he was funny enough, but his rant did get worse, especially when I went against him and said that all the Catalan people I'd met had been lovely to me. He put this down to me being too young, he was about 40 bless him and went to all these single meet-ups, "gorgeous birds, ain't got nothing going on up there though". Anyway, luckily he left after the first half. The second was just as insufferable even without him though. Poor game from leeds all round, and there you have it - 4-0.
So I forgot about the football, took a stroll. I'm kind of learning how this City is pieced together. I went down a road off Via Laetana and found the beautiful Santa Marie Church, which was open to the public as it was a sunday. Lovely building, I've got some photos of the interior which you'll find at the end of the post. All the stained glass was traditional apart from one section which was like some sort of neo-sci-fi, psychedelic nightmare - well, it wasn't that bad, but it did look like something out of that film, A.I. I have a picture, so draw your own conclusions. After the church I took a stroll down a random alley and found myself coming out at Barceloneta. To my left I saw a park with great statues by the entrance, so I went. I saw a zoo, instantly thought to take case, if she ever comes.... and carried on past, round to the right where the place opened up and there were lovely hedgerows and patches of well-cut grass, even more exotic palm trees lined the avenues. And then it hit me, I was in Ciutadella Park, my favourite park, right near my work, just beyond the Arc de Triomf. I love coming here, its a lovely spot, especially in the sun. I went my first weekend and saw a school of dancers gracefully dancing the afternoon away on one of those raised platform type things with columns - I really have no idea what they're called. Well they were graceful but also care-free as many onlookers stopped to watch and children dived into the dance, which swelled like a great water balloon, with the sun making them dizzy and the music heady in their reverie. I do believe that rhymed!
Anyho, I was happy in the park so I lay about in the dying sun for a little before heading back on the well-travelled route via home - I do this to work each morning. Oh and before I forget I saw these lovely little green parakeet-looking things, which I saw again today. I got some photos, so check it out.
So today at school, the ESO - the secondary school - put on a short 40min play for the Primary school. They scared the little buggers shitless! They were scared out of their wits. The ESO had made these amazing masks in their art classes, and many were Frankenstein, Halloween-type things - think Goosebumps The Haunted Mask - and they had all this terrifying music - the sound of thunder etc, with flashing lights; and then they only came into the audience to scare them! The kids were screaming, terrified, the sound was like death to my ears. I have a video and you can hear their inconsolable screams; luckily the one I have on video was light-hearted and the zombies started body-popping to hip-hop or some such tune. After this, it turned nice and there were appearances from the teletubbies - really great authentic masks - and then the Angry Birds came out to play. All in all a feast of fun, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of those kids have nightmares tonight. Infact one little girl was so frightened she had to get escorted out of the theatre room.
Anyways check out the video and see what you think, until next time, Adeu!!
Santa Maria inside
The sci-fi pane, noticably different to the others.
The strange, exotic birds.
And the park, doesn't look as good in Sunday's clouds.
So I forgot about the football, took a stroll. I'm kind of learning how this City is pieced together. I went down a road off Via Laetana and found the beautiful Santa Marie Church, which was open to the public as it was a sunday. Lovely building, I've got some photos of the interior which you'll find at the end of the post. All the stained glass was traditional apart from one section which was like some sort of neo-sci-fi, psychedelic nightmare - well, it wasn't that bad, but it did look like something out of that film, A.I. I have a picture, so draw your own conclusions. After the church I took a stroll down a random alley and found myself coming out at Barceloneta. To my left I saw a park with great statues by the entrance, so I went. I saw a zoo, instantly thought to take case, if she ever comes.... and carried on past, round to the right where the place opened up and there were lovely hedgerows and patches of well-cut grass, even more exotic palm trees lined the avenues. And then it hit me, I was in Ciutadella Park, my favourite park, right near my work, just beyond the Arc de Triomf. I love coming here, its a lovely spot, especially in the sun. I went my first weekend and saw a school of dancers gracefully dancing the afternoon away on one of those raised platform type things with columns - I really have no idea what they're called. Well they were graceful but also care-free as many onlookers stopped to watch and children dived into the dance, which swelled like a great water balloon, with the sun making them dizzy and the music heady in their reverie. I do believe that rhymed!
Anyho, I was happy in the park so I lay about in the dying sun for a little before heading back on the well-travelled route via home - I do this to work each morning. Oh and before I forget I saw these lovely little green parakeet-looking things, which I saw again today. I got some photos, so check it out.
So today at school, the ESO - the secondary school - put on a short 40min play for the Primary school. They scared the little buggers shitless! They were scared out of their wits. The ESO had made these amazing masks in their art classes, and many were Frankenstein, Halloween-type things - think Goosebumps The Haunted Mask - and they had all this terrifying music - the sound of thunder etc, with flashing lights; and then they only came into the audience to scare them! The kids were screaming, terrified, the sound was like death to my ears. I have a video and you can hear their inconsolable screams; luckily the one I have on video was light-hearted and the zombies started body-popping to hip-hop or some such tune. After this, it turned nice and there were appearances from the teletubbies - really great authentic masks - and then the Angry Birds came out to play. All in all a feast of fun, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of those kids have nightmares tonight. Infact one little girl was so frightened she had to get escorted out of the theatre room.
Anyways check out the video and see what you think, until next time, Adeu!!
Santa Maria inside
The sci-fi pane, noticably different to the others.
The strange, exotic birds.
And the park, doesn't look as good in Sunday's clouds.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Videos for the aforementioned post
Sorry I forgot to add the videos, here they are! Special highlight, notice me saying "Hello Manel" to one of the Falcons in the video, he is one of the teachers at the school.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Saturday, February 16, 2013
The weekend of Santa Eulalia colloquially known as La Laia
So its been a good saturday. After a very filling lunch, of which I made the family including Laura's parents and Alba, Laura's sister, Pancakes, I was feeling pretty knackered and not sure if I could be arsed to head into town. Well I'm certainly glad I did, it was well worth it.
As soon as I got to the Via Laetana and towards the Old City I heard the bassy undertones of drums, a racket of noise coming from St Jaume - in English, St. James Square. Well I went down the alley towards the Square, and along the way was a group of 15 or so drummers, hammering out some powerful rhythms. Everyone nearby was watching with, iPhones handy, filming the proceedings. Well I carried on to the sqaure, where there was a procession of giants walking around. They weren't real, they were giant plastic figures with people inside, walking them about.
I met Jose the teacher, my personal tutor and friend. He was with his brother Pedro, who also spoke English but didn't feel the need to shout it in quite the manner Jose does. I've heard Jose speak in Spanish and he doesn't shout or talk nearly as loudly as he does in English, and I've come to the conclusion he talks that loudly because when he's teaching English in class he always has to talk that loudly so the kids understand. Its pavlovian I guess. Some of the other teachers have called him on it, so it is quite funny.
Anyway, next were the Falcons - a group of 20-30 highly trained individuals who build human pyramids and that kind of thing- the photos/vids will explain better. One of them is Manel, a teacher at the school. There's also Jordi, who is an ex-student that plays football with us on Thursdays. There were also two kids who go to our school. Oh yeh, that's what I forgot to mention... the ones at the top of the pyramid, yep, they're kids and they're literally like 8! Well they were pretty amazing. After this a giant king and queen, followed by a lion appeared in the square. They danced about, whilst traditional Catalan music played - all flutes and lutes, violins and those old guitars whatever they're called.... - and then came a giant eagle, who also danced about with everyone having to make a circle around him. It was busy, it was good.
I then took a stroll, Jose had left because his daughter had fallen asleep. I went down the thin european alleys, so european, so old and beautiful. There´s some lovely bars and restaurants down there. I followed it all the way down and out I popped in Barceloneta. I walked over to the harbour, with the lights shimmering on the water and the rows of boats drifting there like silent dogs at sea; it was romantic, you couldn't escape it. I just yearned for a certain someone to be there with me.
I walked back up the alleys, caught a bit of the Barcelona game at a bar - they went 1-0 down, and had some calamari. After this, I headed back to the square, caught the end of the light show - they do the projected images onto the local mayor's building - like what London did with the Houses of Parliament come the Jubilee & Olympics - which was quite cool, and then I ambled on back to the train station. All in all a lovely evening Here's the media, see you folks,
Right, should have fixed dropbox, so here's the photos and then at the end I've added some videos so you can really witness the Catalan atmosphere.
This is Santi, Laura's father. He's a really nice guy and has been very friendly to me since day 1. He likes to teach me the names in Catalan for different parts of the body because he's a doctor. He's 64 now, we celebrated his birthday a couple of weekends back, but he's still as sharp as ever. He works on problems of the blood and he's currently writing an interactive, digital book for iPads and such, with his daughter whose doing the images as she is a graphic designer. His mother is 95 and also still sharp, she reads the paper every day and is in incredible health all round.
I made him that pancake.
On the way to St. Jaume's Square I saw a group of these Catalan drummers. They really were thunderingly loud, they made quite a racket - but a good racket. The acoustics bouncing off the ancient walls of the Old City really added to the grandeur.
The stage was set.
There was some sort of costume drama going on when I arrived. Next the imminent announcement of the Falcons; these lot - this is how they entered!
As you can see kids at the top.
They then moved to the stage and did about three different formations.
You can just about make out the giant eagle who arrived after the Falcons finished.
The giant King and Queen.
The local ministerial building, with the Mayor watching the festivities.
A giant Lion had come to join.
The beauty at night of Barceloneta. Its even more beautiful around by the beach where there's no construction cranes or anything.
I loved some of these beer's at the bar I stopped at to catch the Barcelona game. So they´re basically beer - Cerveza - mixed with spirits. I especially like the green Beer Garden and the Cervodka, I'll have to try these.
The rule of thumb at this pub, which may be applicable to all bars in Barca or at least most, was that actually, the draft was cheaper than the bottles. Estrella on draft was 2 euros, whereas most bottles were at least 3. However saying that I found a proper dive near my work where you could get a 1 euro bottle of San Miguel - so depends I guess.
I caught a few projections on my way back.
La Laia is the patron saint they were celebrating.
And on my way back I stopped to catch this eery picture of one of the churches that leads the way to the Gothic center. With the moon and the light, it looks like something out of a Edgar Allen Poe story!
Anyway, till tom'rrow, Adeu!!
As soon as I got to the Via Laetana and towards the Old City I heard the bassy undertones of drums, a racket of noise coming from St Jaume - in English, St. James Square. Well I went down the alley towards the Square, and along the way was a group of 15 or so drummers, hammering out some powerful rhythms. Everyone nearby was watching with, iPhones handy, filming the proceedings. Well I carried on to the sqaure, where there was a procession of giants walking around. They weren't real, they were giant plastic figures with people inside, walking them about.
I met Jose the teacher, my personal tutor and friend. He was with his brother Pedro, who also spoke English but didn't feel the need to shout it in quite the manner Jose does. I've heard Jose speak in Spanish and he doesn't shout or talk nearly as loudly as he does in English, and I've come to the conclusion he talks that loudly because when he's teaching English in class he always has to talk that loudly so the kids understand. Its pavlovian I guess. Some of the other teachers have called him on it, so it is quite funny.
Anyway, next were the Falcons - a group of 20-30 highly trained individuals who build human pyramids and that kind of thing- the photos/vids will explain better. One of them is Manel, a teacher at the school. There's also Jordi, who is an ex-student that plays football with us on Thursdays. There were also two kids who go to our school. Oh yeh, that's what I forgot to mention... the ones at the top of the pyramid, yep, they're kids and they're literally like 8! Well they were pretty amazing. After this a giant king and queen, followed by a lion appeared in the square. They danced about, whilst traditional Catalan music played - all flutes and lutes, violins and those old guitars whatever they're called.... - and then came a giant eagle, who also danced about with everyone having to make a circle around him. It was busy, it was good.
I then took a stroll, Jose had left because his daughter had fallen asleep. I went down the thin european alleys, so european, so old and beautiful. There´s some lovely bars and restaurants down there. I followed it all the way down and out I popped in Barceloneta. I walked over to the harbour, with the lights shimmering on the water and the rows of boats drifting there like silent dogs at sea; it was romantic, you couldn't escape it. I just yearned for a certain someone to be there with me.
I walked back up the alleys, caught a bit of the Barcelona game at a bar - they went 1-0 down, and had some calamari. After this, I headed back to the square, caught the end of the light show - they do the projected images onto the local mayor's building - like what London did with the Houses of Parliament come the Jubilee & Olympics - which was quite cool, and then I ambled on back to the train station. All in all a lovely evening Here's the media, see you folks,
Right, should have fixed dropbox, so here's the photos and then at the end I've added some videos so you can really witness the Catalan atmosphere.
This is Santi, Laura's father. He's a really nice guy and has been very friendly to me since day 1. He likes to teach me the names in Catalan for different parts of the body because he's a doctor. He's 64 now, we celebrated his birthday a couple of weekends back, but he's still as sharp as ever. He works on problems of the blood and he's currently writing an interactive, digital book for iPads and such, with his daughter whose doing the images as she is a graphic designer. His mother is 95 and also still sharp, she reads the paper every day and is in incredible health all round.
I made him that pancake.
Here I'm at Placa St Jaume - St. James Square. The activities were just beginning. I met Jose and his brother here.
On the way to St. Jaume's Square I saw a group of these Catalan drummers. They really were thunderingly loud, they made quite a racket - but a good racket. The acoustics bouncing off the ancient walls of the Old City really added to the grandeur.
The stage was set.
There was some sort of costume drama going on when I arrived. Next the imminent announcement of the Falcons; these lot - this is how they entered!
As you can see kids at the top.
They then moved to the stage and did about three different formations.
You can just about make out the giant eagle who arrived after the Falcons finished.
The giant King and Queen.
The local ministerial building, with the Mayor watching the festivities.
A giant Lion had come to join.
The beauty at night of Barceloneta. Its even more beautiful around by the beach where there's no construction cranes or anything.
I loved some of these beer's at the bar I stopped at to catch the Barcelona game. So they´re basically beer - Cerveza - mixed with spirits. I especially like the green Beer Garden and the Cervodka, I'll have to try these.
The rule of thumb at this pub, which may be applicable to all bars in Barca or at least most, was that actually, the draft was cheaper than the bottles. Estrella on draft was 2 euros, whereas most bottles were at least 3. However saying that I found a proper dive near my work where you could get a 1 euro bottle of San Miguel - so depends I guess.
I caught a few projections on my way back.
La Laia is the patron saint they were celebrating.
And on my way back I stopped to catch this eery picture of one of the churches that leads the way to the Gothic center. With the moon and the light, it looks like something out of a Edgar Allen Poe story!
Anyway, till tom'rrow, Adeu!!
15/02
So today I had work, and finished at midday, like all fridays & with much relief I must say. By the end of the week my eyes are sore from being open and my head dizzy from tiredness. But in a good way. The rewarding type of tiredness, which comes after you've been working your ass off all week. Children are fun, full of life; they are bright, prosperous things which the world relies upon and to treat one badly is to sin on all of humanity, but nevertheless they're bloody tiring. I find the most tiring to be the 8-12 year olds, who are also hardest to control. They don't speak much english, their attention spans are shorter than a sleep-deprived ADHD person high on too much candy and e-numbers, and they are constantly "on" - there doesn't appear to be an off-switch, so to teach them I pretty much have to match that energy.
Anyway, working only the morning was a relief. After work, I took a stroll in the sunshine down to Catalunya Square. Lovely in the midday sun, full of people, buzzing traffic circling us and everyone appeared to be in good spirits. The obligatory pigeon feeders were there and those annoying Japanese tourists were about, the ones who go running through a flock, dispersing the demon things left right and center, just for them to shit everywhere and pester everyone. One went colliding towards me in a vengeful dustbowl of feathers and pebbles. Well I took my rest, hampered down on the grass behind the benches, as all seats were taken. First I finished planning my lessons for the next week, then I whacked on a bit of music via headphones, closed my eyes and with the warm sun resting its lazy rays on my skin, I soon fell into a somewhat restless slumber. Restless because I couldn't let myself fall to sleep completely for fear of my bag being nicked; it had my usb speakers in it...
Well I did slumber somewhat and I was suddenly awoken by the sound of Spanish voices. Through the sun I could just about make out two uniforms looking down and addressing me. Two policeman, I couldn't for the life of me understand them, but somehow through my half-asleep daze I managed to produce the words, "yo soy ingles", and with that they drew back, were somewhat more relaxed but then relaxed and carried on ploughing me with spanish instructions. Luckily I heard one of them say, "not on the garden" and with that I realised they wanted me off the grass. So I got up, they moved on to tell a tramp the same thing and I went to sit on the nearest bench with two old men beside me. I started reading some of the great Hunter Thompson, The Great Shark Hunt, basically aload of his articles, some of the finest writing of his career I might add. When I was reading it, I just thought what a great fucking writer he really is. If I could match any of his prose, if I could somehow get that great mix he does; the vicious wit, the lashings of outrageousness, the passion, the intensity, the pace, dynamic.... It would take alot of work to reach his status and level of prose, that's for sure. Tbh I doubt I could ever do it, I'm just not good enough to match him. But then this is what annoys me about the so-called Hunter fans out there. They seem to think he's famous because he drank everything under the sign, took loads of drugs, drove around the US like a maniac, got on the tits of Nixon and every fascist pig president America ever had, and generally lived like a hedonistic, bohemian lunatic. Which he did, I mean all those things he did do, but absolutely none of them account for his fame. I mean they probably added to it, sometimes alot to it, but first and foremost Hunter was a writer. A journalist really. A journalist who wrote with passion and excitement about matters he deeply cared about, mostly politics. Alot of people think they know about Hunter because they've seen Johnny Depp's portrayal of him in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and they've read his wikipedia entry. To these people I say, read his work. He's got soooooo much. He was a tireless writer. He worked his ASS OFF! Apart from his novels (& Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail is long enough) there are scores of articles, of which The Great Shark Hunt collates some of the best. And they really are good. I was reading the Kentucky Derby is Deprived and Decadent, one of the best. The point is to see how he was much more than all those stereotypes read his work, understand the man his motives and his majesty.
Anyway, enough about that. Sorry, that was somewhat of a rant.
So a beggar woman came over to us and the old men started joking and putting their hands out to her saying they were the ones who needed money (I'm guessing - it was in Catalan). Nonetheless it was funny and they laughed and looked at, including me in their humour. Well feeling reinvigorated I went to a cheap bar, got two San Miguel bottles at a euro each, and then realised how I hate the stuff. It makes me burp so hard I almost throw up - Estrella's where its at.
I went home, got dressed and aerosoled and headed up to meet Mike. We had a chat, got a really good burger from this sort-of fast food place down the Ramblas (nothing like McDonalds) and then met the other CAPS lot in a bar called L'oveja de Negra (The Black Sheep - actually a traditional British name for a pub I thought). It was a good night, we shared stories on the schools and the different age ranges everyones teaching, whilst being merry and drinking beer. The bar is a proper student/backpacker kinda place, cheap booze and loads of internationals. They were plenty of english there.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy all that
Ta'ra for now xxxxxxxxxx
Anyway, working only the morning was a relief. After work, I took a stroll in the sunshine down to Catalunya Square. Lovely in the midday sun, full of people, buzzing traffic circling us and everyone appeared to be in good spirits. The obligatory pigeon feeders were there and those annoying Japanese tourists were about, the ones who go running through a flock, dispersing the demon things left right and center, just for them to shit everywhere and pester everyone. One went colliding towards me in a vengeful dustbowl of feathers and pebbles. Well I took my rest, hampered down on the grass behind the benches, as all seats were taken. First I finished planning my lessons for the next week, then I whacked on a bit of music via headphones, closed my eyes and with the warm sun resting its lazy rays on my skin, I soon fell into a somewhat restless slumber. Restless because I couldn't let myself fall to sleep completely for fear of my bag being nicked; it had my usb speakers in it...
Well I did slumber somewhat and I was suddenly awoken by the sound of Spanish voices. Through the sun I could just about make out two uniforms looking down and addressing me. Two policeman, I couldn't for the life of me understand them, but somehow through my half-asleep daze I managed to produce the words, "yo soy ingles", and with that they drew back, were somewhat more relaxed but then relaxed and carried on ploughing me with spanish instructions. Luckily I heard one of them say, "not on the garden" and with that I realised they wanted me off the grass. So I got up, they moved on to tell a tramp the same thing and I went to sit on the nearest bench with two old men beside me. I started reading some of the great Hunter Thompson, The Great Shark Hunt, basically aload of his articles, some of the finest writing of his career I might add. When I was reading it, I just thought what a great fucking writer he really is. If I could match any of his prose, if I could somehow get that great mix he does; the vicious wit, the lashings of outrageousness, the passion, the intensity, the pace, dynamic.... It would take alot of work to reach his status and level of prose, that's for sure. Tbh I doubt I could ever do it, I'm just not good enough to match him. But then this is what annoys me about the so-called Hunter fans out there. They seem to think he's famous because he drank everything under the sign, took loads of drugs, drove around the US like a maniac, got on the tits of Nixon and every fascist pig president America ever had, and generally lived like a hedonistic, bohemian lunatic. Which he did, I mean all those things he did do, but absolutely none of them account for his fame. I mean they probably added to it, sometimes alot to it, but first and foremost Hunter was a writer. A journalist really. A journalist who wrote with passion and excitement about matters he deeply cared about, mostly politics. Alot of people think they know about Hunter because they've seen Johnny Depp's portrayal of him in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and they've read his wikipedia entry. To these people I say, read his work. He's got soooooo much. He was a tireless writer. He worked his ASS OFF! Apart from his novels (& Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail is long enough) there are scores of articles, of which The Great Shark Hunt collates some of the best. And they really are good. I was reading the Kentucky Derby is Deprived and Decadent, one of the best. The point is to see how he was much more than all those stereotypes read his work, understand the man his motives and his majesty.
Anyway, enough about that. Sorry, that was somewhat of a rant.
So a beggar woman came over to us and the old men started joking and putting their hands out to her saying they were the ones who needed money (I'm guessing - it was in Catalan). Nonetheless it was funny and they laughed and looked at, including me in their humour. Well feeling reinvigorated I went to a cheap bar, got two San Miguel bottles at a euro each, and then realised how I hate the stuff. It makes me burp so hard I almost throw up - Estrella's where its at.
I went home, got dressed and aerosoled and headed up to meet Mike. We had a chat, got a really good burger from this sort-of fast food place down the Ramblas (nothing like McDonalds) and then met the other CAPS lot in a bar called L'oveja de Negra (The Black Sheep - actually a traditional British name for a pub I thought). It was a good night, we shared stories on the schools and the different age ranges everyones teaching, whilst being merry and drinking beer. The bar is a proper student/backpacker kinda place, cheap booze and loads of internationals. They were plenty of english there.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy all that
Ta'ra for now xxxxxxxxxx
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Santa Eulalia & La Pedrera
So today is the Patron Saint of Barcelona's day, Santa Eulalia. And back in the cosy, snow-kissed UK, pancakes are the talk of the country once more. Well, I promised my family to make them some, since it's an English tradition, one of which Spain doesn't have. They do have some traditions around Easter though; they eat a cake called caca de something or other which is basically a cake made with a layer of pastry, a layer of roasted pork rind i.e. a whole layer devoted to the pork scratchings you get down the pub - and then another layer of pastry with pine nuts thrown on top. The taste is, well... interesting.
So this past weekend I visited Vic out in the Catalan countryside - felt somewhat like an adventure and images of me and Harry upon The Ghan following a slow and windy route through the great expense of that beautiful, desolate and epic country Australia flooded my mind. Well the red rock was back, big clay cliffs with vegetation and arid grass retreating beyond to kinder soils, and pastures with lazy farms and lazy farmhands resting in the heat and dusty tracks and small, european towns with a cluster of houses and maybe a pub, all these I can pluck from the hazy machine I call my memory. But in all honesty it wasn't as good as that trip on The Ghan, but then again that was both the longest and most amazing journey of my life - 3 or so days to the heart of Australia to see Uluru and then on and upwards to the wet 100% humidity that greeted us in Darwin.
So the rest of the weekend was passed nicely, we stayed at Laura's parents Holiday home with their friends whom I met when they threw that dinner party in the first week. They all seem like a good lot, quite good fun - we played a crazy game at about midnight in the garden where we had scarf's hanging from the back of our trousers and we would pair off, challenge each other, and the first to successful wrench the scarf from the other without loosing their own was the winner. Pere was the champion with his bear-like approach not taking any prisoners. So it was a nice weekend, I sat about in the sun reading Stephen Fry for a while, the only annoyance being my still substandard Spanish/Catalan. It can prove frustrating when you can't really contribute to the conversation much, I mean I broke in at times and we talked in English periodically but I didn't want to keep breaking the flow of the conversation so I had to let most of it wash over me. You do feel a little awkward and like just a 'presence' at times, but oh well, I've signed up to this and I want to get what I can from it, so onwards and upwards!
Today was tiring as per, especially controlling some of the younger kids, but to have greater control I have started marching them about the school, every now & then abruptly stopping, "ATTENTION!!" I would shout and they would stop, clamp their hands by their sides - the usual soldier gestures etc. - giggle a little, and then we'd march on. It proved a good tactic, they didn't just run off and they found it fun. The concerned looks from some of the other teachers as I shouted and marched them down the corridors hopefully will not prove too greater a concern - I do hope they don't think I'm some ex-militia Franco loving Fascist!
After school I went down the Passeig de Gracia to see The Pedrera because as today is the Patron Saint's day many Museums are free. Well at first I mistook the Casa Batllo for La Pedrera, but to be honest, from the outside at least, Casa Battlo is a more striking and interesting building, more beautiful as well. The Pedrera is of course bigger and has more to it and has more enduring fame; so I suppose in this instance brawn wins over brain. Both building's were of course creations of Gaudi anyway. I'll add more details about the exhibition and of course some riveting art history scholarship next time as its late and I have an early start tomorrow, but for the mean time here are some photos of the exhibition, the Casa Batllo, La Pedera, the illustrious Passeig de Gracia which has much fantastic architecture dotted along its course and some of Barcelona's iconic streetlights, enjoy!
Gaudi's Casa, with the last light from a reflected sun.
The Pedrera in the stillness of the day
Inside the free area, the exhibition is beyond the french windows.
A model of "LoosHaus" built by Adolf Loos for Goldman & Salatsch, the actual artifice is in Vienna I believe. Adolf Loos was one of the six architects featured in the exhibiton.
This was Frank Llloyd Wright's statement, whose most enduring work is Robie House which is in Phoenix. There was a short film showing the house but I don't think its as nice or as good as some of the other architects work; some of whom were instrumental in the Art Nouveau movement with Victor Horta also being part of the later post-WWII Art Deco movement.
Hector Guimard, whose work was on display, was the one who did the famous metropolitan signs in Paris - the ones with the sinuous writing that looks like a snake and the colour is like absinthe and its all hedonistic? I saw these whilst there with my girlfriend, the one at Père Lachaise Cemetery was particularly striking.
The architect who designed and built the Glasgow School of Art was also exhibited.
At night.
Gaudi's mysterious, naturalistic staircase inside the free area of La Pedrera, like something out of A Midsummer's Night Dream.
The Casa at night.
Views along Passeig de Gracia,
And lastly, Placa de Catalunya,
Adeu!
So this past weekend I visited Vic out in the Catalan countryside - felt somewhat like an adventure and images of me and Harry upon The Ghan following a slow and windy route through the great expense of that beautiful, desolate and epic country Australia flooded my mind. Well the red rock was back, big clay cliffs with vegetation and arid grass retreating beyond to kinder soils, and pastures with lazy farms and lazy farmhands resting in the heat and dusty tracks and small, european towns with a cluster of houses and maybe a pub, all these I can pluck from the hazy machine I call my memory. But in all honesty it wasn't as good as that trip on The Ghan, but then again that was both the longest and most amazing journey of my life - 3 or so days to the heart of Australia to see Uluru and then on and upwards to the wet 100% humidity that greeted us in Darwin.
So the rest of the weekend was passed nicely, we stayed at Laura's parents Holiday home with their friends whom I met when they threw that dinner party in the first week. They all seem like a good lot, quite good fun - we played a crazy game at about midnight in the garden where we had scarf's hanging from the back of our trousers and we would pair off, challenge each other, and the first to successful wrench the scarf from the other without loosing their own was the winner. Pere was the champion with his bear-like approach not taking any prisoners. So it was a nice weekend, I sat about in the sun reading Stephen Fry for a while, the only annoyance being my still substandard Spanish/Catalan. It can prove frustrating when you can't really contribute to the conversation much, I mean I broke in at times and we talked in English periodically but I didn't want to keep breaking the flow of the conversation so I had to let most of it wash over me. You do feel a little awkward and like just a 'presence' at times, but oh well, I've signed up to this and I want to get what I can from it, so onwards and upwards!
Today was tiring as per, especially controlling some of the younger kids, but to have greater control I have started marching them about the school, every now & then abruptly stopping, "ATTENTION!!" I would shout and they would stop, clamp their hands by their sides - the usual soldier gestures etc. - giggle a little, and then we'd march on. It proved a good tactic, they didn't just run off and they found it fun. The concerned looks from some of the other teachers as I shouted and marched them down the corridors hopefully will not prove too greater a concern - I do hope they don't think I'm some ex-militia Franco loving Fascist!
After school I went down the Passeig de Gracia to see The Pedrera because as today is the Patron Saint's day many Museums are free. Well at first I mistook the Casa Batllo for La Pedrera, but to be honest, from the outside at least, Casa Battlo is a more striking and interesting building, more beautiful as well. The Pedrera is of course bigger and has more to it and has more enduring fame; so I suppose in this instance brawn wins over brain. Both building's were of course creations of Gaudi anyway. I'll add more details about the exhibition and of course some riveting art history scholarship next time as its late and I have an early start tomorrow, but for the mean time here are some photos of the exhibition, the Casa Batllo, La Pedera, the illustrious Passeig de Gracia which has much fantastic architecture dotted along its course and some of Barcelona's iconic streetlights, enjoy!
Gaudi's Casa, with the last light from a reflected sun.
The Pedrera in the stillness of the day
Inside the free area, the exhibition is beyond the french windows.
A model of "LoosHaus" built by Adolf Loos for Goldman & Salatsch, the actual artifice is in Vienna I believe. Adolf Loos was one of the six architects featured in the exhibiton.
Hector Guimard, whose work was on display, was the one who did the famous metropolitan signs in Paris - the ones with the sinuous writing that looks like a snake and the colour is like absinthe and its all hedonistic? I saw these whilst there with my girlfriend, the one at Père Lachaise Cemetery was particularly striking.
The architect who designed and built the Glasgow School of Art was also exhibited.
At night.
Gaudi's mysterious, naturalistic staircase inside the free area of La Pedrera, like something out of A Midsummer's Night Dream.
The Casa at night.
Views along Passeig de Gracia,
Note the pink fountain, which looks like something out of Doctor Who here.
And lastly, Placa de Catalunya,
Adeu!
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