By the time we got out and about, had our coffee, and hit the internet cafe, the city was starting to stir a little. We had been particularly intrigued by Gaudi's unfinished work, the Sagrada Familia, so we decided to catch the Metro back there to have a better look around. The entrance to the Metro station was right around the corner and we still had a 10-ride metro pass to use up, so after struggling with the automated entrance for a little while before figuring out that we were supposed to be entering through the turnstile to the left of the ticket slot, we found our way to the correct platform. On the final escalator ride down to the platform Daisy had gotten ahead of me, and the guy in front of me dropped his chapstick just as we were getting to the bottom of the escalator. He reached down to pick it up, and while fumbling with it decided to back up (still bent over) to try a second time to pick it up. I tried to get around him to the left but when he backed up I got jammed between him and the person coming down behind me, who waseither completely oblivious to the situation, or working in concert with the first guy to pick my pocket.

A few words about escalators in busy transit areas like Metro stations - particularly in cities where they warn you aboutg about pickpockets: unless you're hauling a bulky suitcase, avoid the escalators. Burn the extra calories and take the stairs. Also, keep your money in a money belt and don't take out your wallet in the middle of a Metro station to get out your Metro pass. This only reveals to pickpockets where you keep your wallet.

Which explains why, when I realized what was happening to me on the escalator and I reached for my wallet in the left-front pocket of my trousers, I found somebody else's hand already there. Fortunately, he had not gotten a good grip on it and I was able to wrest it from his grasp when I spun around to the right to confront him. He looked as surprised as I was, and maybe even a little apologetic - as if he had tripped and his hand had accidentally slipped into my front pocket. I tried to express my displeasure in a tactile manner. If I had it to do over again, and if I had time to think about it I'm sure I would have reacted differently - particularly in light of the fact that there were three of them and only one of me.

Be that as it may, there we were. His apologetic expression by now had been replaced by one of indignation - as if it had all been in good fun and I was just being an extremely poor sport. He may have hit me back at that point or he may have just shoved me - all I remember is that my good $8 sunglasses got knocked out of my shirt pocket, and were skittering across the floor. About this time Daisy noticed the commotion behind her, and as I went scrambling to retrieve my sunglasses I could hear her approaching, going "Hey, hey, hey, hey!" It kinda sounded like she was singing along with Van Halen's Aint Talkin' Bout Love on her Walkman, but it was sufficient to discourage my adversaries, because after a bit of posturing and cursing in some unrecognizable language, they made their way up the escalator to lay in wait for another victim.

If I had had my wits about me I should have pulled my camera from my right-front pocket and snapped a picture of my assailant, but I was too busy patting all my pockets to make sure that nothing had been taken. I'd like to think that this bit of negative reinforcement may inspire these young entrepreneurs to consider a different line of work, but I doubt it. An examination of my knuckles showed no evidence of damage so I must not have inflicted much damage. It was however, sufficient to send a jolt up through my arm, and my elbow has been sore ever since. I can only hope that his face is as sore as my elbow. In the words of Danny Glover, I'm getting too old for this shit...

Anyway.... We caught our subway to Sagrada Familia and got a few more pictures.

Gaudi died in 1926 before the project was completed, and it languished for the next three quarters of a century before work was once again resumed. If they had had these kinds of cranes back in the 20s maybe it would have been done before he died.

Next we took another line to the Museo De Barcelona. This museum is situated on a slight hill (or as they say in Indiana, a mountain) where I was able to snap a few pictures of the city. Unfortunately, it was a little hazy this day, but I was able to snap a picture of Daisy, framed on one side by Sagrada Familia, and on the other side by what I'm told is the new building of the water company, but which I'm convinced is either the local Good Vibrations outlet, or a monument to Spain's beloved asparagus.

By the time we had gotten through walking up the hill and then back down to the Metro station, I had come over all peckish, and was interested in negotiating the vending of some cheesy comestibles. Actually, vegetables would have been more to our liking, and indeed Barcelona did have a vegetarian restaurant in our neighborhood, but not today, sir... it being Domingo and all that. Not only is the vegetarian restaurant closed on Sundays, but it's also only open for lunch. Don't get much call for it around here...

We went back to our hotel and asked the concierge to recommend a good local tapas place. Like most of Spain, Barcelona is overflowing with tapas places - there must have been six on our block alone, and I haven't really had bad tapas here, but why not get the best? I'll tell you why: because you have to wait in line for the best, and when we got to the place that our concierge recommended, and saw the list of names ahead of us - we opted for our concierge's second recommendation. It was only a block away from the first and there was no line, so we ate there and I ordered a split of some kind of Rioja Crianza.

Splits are identified here as "3/8" for 3/8ths of a liter (375 ml.), but for some reason a regular bottle is not referred to as "3/4". Maybe they're afraid the Americans will insist on a whole bottle...

The tapas was very good. This is the first time I've been served a whole squid and I wasn't quite sure how to carve it, but it turned out to be fairly simple; not too many bones - you just have to work around the tough part on the upper body. 

By now I was painfully aware of the crime problems in Barcelona. In addition to my own experiences, Frommer's readily acknowledges Barcelona's problems with pimps, prostitutes, pickpockets, and heroin - but I didn't realize that they also had a crack problem.  

Sure enough, upon closer investigation I realized that crack is nothing new to Barcelona.  

After lunch it was back to the hotel for another siesta,  on the TV they were showing Armageddon, a movie I had made a point not  to see, but out of boredom I watched it. Even in Spanish it was pretty easy to understand, and every bit as stupid as I had expected. Still, it did get us two hours closer to home by the time it was over. After that it was time for our daily constitutional to the Subway for our late-night internet and triptofan fix.

Valencia

Monday, 10 January - We were up at 6:30, and out of the hotel at 8. This is the magical hour in the Gotic section, when the prostitutes have already gone home but the shoppers and pickpockets haven't come out in force, so we made excellent progress on the three block walk back to the Metro station, and from there we made our way to the main train station without event. We had our tickets by 8:30 with time to spare before the 9 o'clock train, so we queued up at the cafeteria for the obligatory cafe con leche. Maybe it was just because I had been getting my coffee at Starbucks the last couple days but this seemed like some spectacularly bad cafe con leche - and one was all I needed.

The train to Valencia was the high-speed train. We had to pay an extra 6 euros for the high speed train but it was worth it. The trip takes 2 1/2 hours instead of 4, and since the batteries in my Powerbook only last about 2 1/2 hours this is the ideal amount of time for traveling by rail.

The Valencia area is noted for their oranges, and when we were still about 45 minutes from our destination I noticed that the landscape kind of resembled California's Riverside / Redlands area, which is also noted for its oranges. It's also noted for its air pollution, which wins hands down over Valencia, but apparently Valencia has Southern California beat hands-down in the water pollution department, so I guess it all evens out.

I've neglected to mention the abundance of fresh oranges thus far in my travelogue. I have neglected to mention them because they are fresh and abundant throughout Spain, and this is not consistent with my theme of bitching about the food. You can pretty much go into any cafeteria (i.e. cafe) and order fresh orange juice. Oranges are one of my favorite fruits and I love fresh orange juice, but I guess I tend to regard oranges more as a beverage than as a food. Besides, an orange is no replacement for a green vegetable, particularly not with lunch or supper. I'm no nutritionist, maybe if you eat enough oranges they will fill the nutritional gap created by the dearth of fresh vegetables here, but I doubt it.

Still, in fairness, if you like oranges and love asparagus you can get by here. And of course if you just like meat and cheese, well, you're in fat city. Literally.

Anyway, Valencia is a sprawling city. It's the third largest city in Spain, after Madrid and Barcelona. According to Frommer's it's much less tourist-oriented which hopefully means that if will have fewer pickpockets as well. In any event, unlike our hotel room in Barcelona, the one in Valencia had a safe, so that's where I kept my wallet while we were there.

We took a bus into the old town in hopes of doing some shopping but most of the shops were closed because it was siesta time. So instead we decided to have lunch. As Frommer's had stated, Valencia is much less tourist-oriented than the other places we'd been to, which meant that instead of having lots of restaurants and cafes that showcase the local fare, they had lots of fast food chains - most of which at least had a local flavor. Within about ten blocks we passed three Pans & Company, and at least as many Cafe & Te shops, as well as some kind of sandwich chain - I think it was called Bocadillo Willy's or something like that. There were of course a couple McDonalds, and a Burger King. There were also a wide variety of pizza shops - some were franchises and some appeared to be unique.

After much searching (well, okay - 10 blocks) we found a place next to a McDonalds that appeared to be popular amongst the locals, and a lot of people were eating paella, which is supposed to be a specialty of the Valencia area, so we snagged a table outdoors when one became available. It was nothing more than a cervezaria actually, but that was okay with me - it would give me a chance to have what the locals have... and a cerveza.

It turned out to be one of those deals where you pick one item from the starters section of the menu, one from the main course section, and one from the desert section. Unfortunately, what I wanted was the salad and the paella, which were both in the starters section. The waiter assured us that would be no problem. The price was 8 euros each, not counting drinks. So for less than the price of 6 canned asparagus spears with two kinds of sauce, I got a huge salad and a huge plate of Paella Valenciano - which wasn't that different from the arroz con pollo that I had been unsuccessfully trying to find since I arrived in Spain two weeks ago. Oh yeah, the Daisy's juice and my cervezas were extra, but we still got out of there for 22 euros, including tip.

The shops were still closed for siesta when we finished lunch, but that was okay with me - for some reason I was feeling kind of drowsy, so we went back to the hotel and I took my own siesta. When supper time came and went around 10 PM we both agreed that we were still full from lunch, so we called it a night.

Tuesday, 11 January - We checked out of our hotel and took a bus back to the train station. Our final destination  would be back to Madrid for a couple more nights and then our flight back to the states on Thursday, the 13^th.