Barcelona time travel…

While struggling to accept the fact that I had watched my the final episode of Downton Abbey, I decided to head to Plaza Catalunya. [The character Mary is a poster girl for anyone with extremely pale skin, and I had decided that 1920s clothes might be the way forward. Why I thought I might find them in Zara, I don’t know]

I decided that I wouldn’t take the easy route along Gran Via, and that I would use my reknowned sense of direction to weave my way through the side streets, thereby approaching Placa Catalunya from a sidestreet of the Raval.

Obviously, I failed hopelessly.

But the journey was not a loss. Before retracing my steps and finding my way back to Gran Via, I happened upon a couple of interesting shops, far removed from the huge chain stores that occupy the Rambla. Have a look for yourselves…

Founded in 1933, this shop sells miniature nativity characters, for the Catalan tradition of making your own Bethlehem scene at Christmas time. The scatalogical sense of humour of the catalan people means they also include a Caganer, which in recent times is more often than not a famous footballer or celebrity.

I’m not sure that Messi was present and having a poo at the birth of Jesus, but that’s what Barcelona would have you believe. No, I’m not even kidding.

Aaaanyway, in this delightful little store all the miniatures are handmade, and you can even see the little old man in the back making more. Imagine him like the woodcarver in Pinnochio. So cute!

Anyway, I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s far too early to be talking about Christmas, so I’ll move on. Just cast one more glance to your at the photo above, where you will see a close up of the window with all the tiny christmassy models. Aww!

The next shop I found was even better, the kind of place I could spend hours browsing and trying to smell things when no-one is looking. It might seem a bit sleazy with its flourescent lighting, but it’s actually a second hand/rare book shop.

As well as all of the old books (I just love the smell of dusty, other-timeness), there are old comics, records and sheet music. There were posters and general nic-nacs, but my favourite thing was the collection of postcards. Not only were the images beautiful, but in many cases there was writing on the back from the original sender. I tried not to spend too long reading the letters on the back, but it was fascinating, a window into another world.

Things like that are what make language learning worthwhile, for me. And despite the lack of Downton style dresses, it turned out I did get my taste of the 1920s afterall.

Of fish, and chips

I didn’t seek it out deliberately, I promise!

After enjoying an exploratory wander through the Raval, I stumbled upon something most unexpected. In the district of Barcelona best known for its high immigrant population, halal meat shops and (let’s be honest here) prostitution, a genuinely British Fish & Chip shop was the last thing I expected to see.

Naturally, as a self-sacrificing blogger, I had to venture in and check out the food so that you, my loyal readers, might know whether it was a haven of British cuisine, or simply second-rate grub for grease-starved tourists.Rest assured that my research was undertaken with the utmost care and scientific standards. Assistants were drafted in to provide second and third opinions, and the endeavour was undertaken with the seriousness that befitted it.

Featuring the option of a full english breakfast in addition to the generous traditional fish & chip shop menu and a sign announcing, “real english chocolate”, if anything the café offered more than one might normally find in your average local chippy.

Aside from the menu appearing in Catalan and Spanish there was little to suggest we were in Barcelona at all. The drizzle and grey skies outside only added to the authenticity of our experience. A certificate even proudly proclaimed all the produce to have been sourced in the British Isles.

And what about the actual food?

Here we have an example of my personal favourite, chicken and mushroom pie and chips, accompanied by a dr. pepper.

I’m pleased to report the chips were suitably greasy, there was a noticeable quantity of chicken in the pie in question, and the dr. pepper was served well chilled. Vinegar was offered, but declined. Salt and ketchup were accepted.

On your right is an example of the classic fish and chips. A small portion size was chosen, gravy was the condiment of preference, to be accompanied with the somewhat unusual choice of a Nestea. The batter was found to be crisp, the fish succulent, and the chips once more pleasantly greasy.

I’m getting hungry again just thinking about it. A return visit is definitely in order, but I’m going to have to make an effort to tone down my guiri ways in future. A recent comment that I was turning a bit, to quote, “Costa Brava tourist” has made me think carefully about future blog posts.

So look forward to a higher Spanish content in future posts, dear readers.

Even if I write them while drinking Yorkshire tea 😉

http://www.fishandchipsbarcelona.com/en_who-we-are.htm

Unusual things to do in Barcelona no.1: Parrots and cake

After a Sunday afternoon well spent here in BCN, here’s how you can repeat the experience.

Step 1. Find yourself a companion with an affection for both exotic birds and cake.

Step 2. Take the metro to Jaume I, or find your way in Bicing. From there it should be easy to find yourself in Plaça de l’Angel.

Step 3. It’s time to get some cake. On the corner of the Plaça is one of Barcelona’s most well-known cake, pastry and sweet shops. Stock up.

 

Step 4. Wind your way through the Barri Gotic towards the Plaça Reial. It’s a short walk if you go directly, but I would suggest zigzagging through the side streets for a more interesting route.

Step 5. So you’ve arrived in the Plaça! Take a seat on one of the chairs around the square, or perch on the edge of the fountain in the middle. Look up at the palm trees, and watch the parrots flying in between, while you enjoy a well earned munch of your cake.

But don’t parrots only live in more exotic climes? Not any more. Pet parrots were set free by their owners, who took happily to life on the mediterranean coast and the lack of natural predators. So they multiplied just to add a bit more sparkle to your Barcelona visit, you lucky thing.