"Let's go to Barcelona for the weekend," Lily said.
"Oh, all right. I'm not really doing anything that weekend anyway," I said.
To hear us talk, one would think we're nouveau riche, yuppies, dot-commers, trust fund babies, lottery winners, or bail-out recipients (nobody really knows where all that money went, after all, right?) But contrary to what it sounds, we're not those lucky few who can say "Wait, is there a recession going on?" It just happened that Syd and Lily found uber-cheap plane tickets, and off we went to squint at undulating architecture and down mountains of tapas . My surprise was that Barcelona is a very urban city. Unlike many European citie
s, it makes no effort to keep its "frozen in history" feel. The Roman ruins of Barri Gotti and the neo-Gothic cathedrals integrate among the glass-bound skyrises with barely a shrug. Along the waterfront, a pristine beach is marked at intervals by twisting metal sculptures, and on the quai, chic restaurants and a huge aquarium are escorted by artistic, somewhat impractical walkramps. The aromas of Spanish seafood mix offhandishly with the heady Mediterranean winds and carburator fumes. Car horns and screeching brakes threaten to drown out the chattering Catalan conversations. This is not a city that hides any facet of its identity. Rather, it shoves its past, present, and its future into one's face with no attempt at organization. Gaudi, of course, is the ghostly presence underlying the architectural identity of the city. The man had a strange, misunderstandable vision, but in the hindsight of his cre
ations, his buildings are now inseparable from the lifeblood of Barcelona. Even the unfinished Sagrada Familia, the eye-popping monstrosity that soars above the city with oozing awesomeness, breathes uniqueness into the surrounding apartments and fast-food restaurants. Not being an architect, I'm not entirely sure what to make of Gaudi. But even if I don't understand his vision, there is something sublime and genius about his designs that even I can sense. Genius, or perhaps insane. The line between the two becomes so unimportant when balanced on the edge of the Mediterranean.
ations, his buildings are now inseparable from the lifeblood of Barcelona. Even the unfinished Sagrada Familia, the eye-popping monstrosity that soars above the city with oozing awesomeness, breathes uniqueness into the surrounding apartments and fast-food restaurants. Not being an architect, I'm not entirely sure what to make of Gaudi. But even if I don't understand his vision, there is something sublime and genius about his designs that even I can sense. Genius, or perhaps insane. The line between the two becomes so unimportant when balanced on the edge of the Mediterranean.
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