Wednesday 8 January 2014

Emma, Sarah, Barcelona

“What are you doing next weekend?”
“Ummm well I am in Iceland this weekend…”
“Come to Barcelona, I will be there for a conference”
“Ok”.
Having thought that I wasn’t that crazy for Barcelona, I went twice recently in as many months for spontaneous reunions – and had a ball.
The above conversation represents an approximation of the brief dialogue between oldest bestest Emma in Sydney, and me in London back in November. Having had a great time in Shanghai together a couple of years prior, a sub-48-hours in Barcelona was always going to be a winner. Our apartment in the Born area of Barcelona was another winner (with the advent of Airbnb et al, I may never stay in a hostel in Europe again). As per usual, I did no research, but Em was armed with a few recommendations including a nearby street of classy wine bars and restaurants, Carrer de la Fusina. I landed Friday night and by about 9pm we had sat ourselves up at the bar at Llamber, and were immediately impressed/surprised by how refreshingly friendly and welcoming the staff were, chatting away in English and recommending all sorts to us. The wines were delicious and outrageously good value for some good drops (3ish euro a glass) in such a trendy setting. Emma’s delight in particular set off warning bell reminders of exactly how expensive a wine might be back in the Antipodes.  We had at least 2 years to catch up on, during which time we nibbled away on croquettes, grilled veges, Iberico jamon, bread.. then angelically took ourselves back home across the market square, via an icecream-espresso pudding stop. The locals were really only just getting started!
We simply couldn't have slept without choc-nut coated waffle cone gelato, and espresso before bed
With only one whole day there, we rose early in Saturday to a gorgeous, sunny day. First stop was Sagrada Familia – the eternally unfinished cathedral - via coffees, then on to some Gaudi architecture stops and a few shops.
Early morning rooftop

Coffee #1 in a typical Spanish bar

Coffee #2

That famous cathedral

Handsome guy strolling, pretty nonplussed about Gaudi's church

Sagrada Familia - a UNESCO world heritage site, despite being unfinished


Saturday shoppers and more architecture by Gaudi
Caravelle had been suggested to me by London Aussie JB, whose cousin owns/runs the show - a great little café in the centre of Barcelona . Conveniently located at the end of our morning walking loop, and tucked away from the hordes of tourists on Las Ramblas, we sought our first sit-down refuge. Full of cool, laid back people, kids, and dogs, definitely a great place for a flat white (cheeky mimosa for moi), and lunch bite numero uno. The menu was a tasty mix of Spanish / café style, and we waited patiently a few minutes for the clock tick around to 1pm when the lunch options come available. We opted for a pork sandwich with a bunch of very tempting fillings - can't remember its official name. What was presented to us was an absolutely delicious hunk of sourdough bread, filled with pulled pork, salsa, corn, coriander, a chilli kick, coleslaw.. a cross between a really amazing taco and a Vietnamese/Laos sandwich – probably the chilli made me think of Asia, though we're obviously miles away from the Mekong. Absolutely delicious, and huge!
A fine selection at Caravelle


The pulled pork number at Caravelle
After introductions and chats, and armed with local recommendations of some gems for the evening, we made a move to the nearby Boqueria food market, for a compulsory stroll and a cornet of jamon and queso (that's shaved, cured Spanish ham, and cheese, to the monolingual).

A couple of hours later, it was time to head home for a refresh/cuppa and we were back out again in no time, hitting up Caravelle recommendation, and perhaps my favourite spot of the trip, El Xampanyet. A small skinny tavern/bar rammed with people sipping cava from champagne saucers, this was clearly a favourite of the neighbourhood, and rightly so. The owner quickly cleared us a perching spot and took care of bringing out olives, fresh anchovies and Catalan tomato bread for us, from the tiny little home-style kitchen tucked in a cupboard at the back of the tavern. We ended up back there several hours later in the evening, where the atmosphere and buzz were electric again, after its early-evening shutdown break. At that point, a Swedish couple bought a bottle of cava for us to share with them to apologise for knocking our drinks all over the table.




Packed
Door rolling down for early evening breather between sessions
By this point, map reading skills were slightly impaired but we found the highly anticipated Can Paixano (La Xampanyeria), without going round in circles too many times. A variety of cavas were available for about 6euro a bottle, and with each you had to buy a tapa choice (so ‘responsible’ of the bar to insist on blotting paper). This was another place that would easily be mistaken for a garage from the street, standing room only, with a sizzling grill and staff guys having to shout across the din to get your orders. So much atmosphere! Although everyone seemed to be eating rolls filled with meats, we stuck with little tapas plates, the Morcilla (Spanish black pudding) being the winner. The morcilla would have also been a good option the next morning!
La Xampanyeria

Morcilla and croquetas
Unsuspecting hole in the wall
Into the evening and the night, we hopped throughout the neighbourhood, sampling more than our fair share of delicious local food, speaking the odd bit of Spanish and trying to engage with locals.

 Things were certainly pretty dusty on Sunday morning. However I insisted on a walk to the beach before we got our respective planes, the beach being a novelty for the Londoner that the Sydney-sider probably didn’t need.

Rather large churro, Barceloneta
In any case, the sea-breeze, sandwiches and chips probably had a marginally positive impact on our wary constitutions, and Emma needed to tick off having a churro in Spain before we jumped in her Emirates chauffeur car (amazing), to head to the airport.
A wonderful weekend that more than proved the value of quality time over quantity of time.
How I got home: EasyJet from the city's most boring terminal

How Em got home to Sydney: Leisurely 1st class upgrade

I opened the dutyfree chocolate purchased for the London flatties to snack on the plane.
Meanwhile, much higher up in the air. Emma gets her own salt and pepper grinders.
She wins.