Marrakech, Morocco - June 14, 2012

 

In search of the Riad Fantasia

      Arriving in Morocco, I had been warned many times about the people (touts) who press you for any and everything.  Sure enough, as soon as you walk off the plane and into the terminal, if you don't look like you know where you are going, must be a hormone emitted, then someone will be on you like white on rice.  If a kid comes up and says, "you look for taxi?" and you say yes, or even no, they will walk you to the taxi stand and then ask for money, as if they did something that you couldn't have done on your own.
    I knew that the taxi should cost between 75 and 150 dirhams so I had a place to start the haggling - 50 dirhams.  The first offer to me was 200 dirhams and when he could see that I wasn't going to pay, he knocked it down to the bargain price of 150.  At about that time a local bus #19, which went directly to the town square had just stopped at the bus stop, so my bargaining power greatly increased.  His next offer of 125 was rejected and I said, never mind, I'll just take the bus.  It was a bluff.  I had no idea where to go when I would be dropped off in the medina (old town)  It's not like maps really exist.  Even if  the maps did have names on them, so what, the streets don't.  And there are so many alley ways and 1/2 streets.  It's like someone took the city planner's maps, put them on a blender, and pushed frappe.
     So I had agreed to 100 dirhams about 9 to the dollar and off we went.  He drove like someone had told him that his house was on fire.  I must say that my first 40 minutes in Morocco were just about enough to make me say, "Hey, Mr. Andretti, please turn around and take me back to the airport.  It's time for me to go Stateside."  But I didn't.  I figured, it was... an experience.  It was only 4:00 in the afternoon, and I figured that I would have about five hours to find my Riad (home turned into a hotel) before it got dark.    
    The streets looked like something out of Blood Diamond.  Like a movie set.  I knew my Riad was just off the Square, the Djeema, and inside the old city walls.  But with a million people, finding it on my own was not going to happen.  After 30 minutes, the cabbie stops at the end of an alley and here's the conversation:
cabbie - "Here Hotel Fantasy"
me -  "So it is.  So it is... but I said Riad Fantasia!"
cabbie - same same.
me - nice try Amos, but nope.  Keep driving!
cabbie - looks at me like I'm going to get out.  Then he makes a motion for me to get out.
me - I stay where I am. Smile at him and say, "No money, if I get out!"  You don't know where the Riad Fantasia is, do you?"
cabbie -  yelling out the window in Arabic, "Ahkmed!  Ahkmed!  Where is Riad Fantasia?"
Ahkmed - yelling back in Arabic, "How the Hell do I know?  You're the cabbie!" (I'm just guessing by his face and gestures)
cabbie:  Bah!  drives off.  Stops and ask different people.  Six different stops and six different responses, probably along the lines of, "maybe cab driving isn't for you" to "Jackass!"
me - I've taken a relaxation pill of sorts and am just taking this in as a city tour for 12 bucks.

Finally, he comes across a teenager who knows where the Riad Fantasia is.  He gets in.  We drive for another minute or two and the cabbie points and says, "There Riad Fantasia".  The kid gets out, I get out, and the kid takes my bag (tip implied here!) and off we go down the alley.  Sure enough I find the Riad Fantasia.  Will miracles never cease!?!?

This is Johnny and Lauren, two of the ten Brits that I went with on a 4 day safari to the Sahara.

The Riad was about $30 a night and worth every penny.  My room was on the bottom floor and looked like something out of Arabian Nights. Had my own bathroom.  Was even clean!  No air-conditioning, but no big deal.  The 12" thick walls kept it amazingly cool.  When it got a bit warm for two hours a day, I'd take a shower and take a nap.

Riads are amazing because the alleys they are on are filthy and disgusting.  But open the door to the Riad and a world of peace and solitude await.  This is the street 18 feet from our Riad door.  Yes, let's keep that door shut!

Riads are very conducive to meeting people.  The common area is where we all meet for breakfast which ends up with, "Where are you going today?" and from that, groups head out to tanneries, safaris, massages, haircuts, beers, dinners, watching the Euro Cup, etc.  Good fun.  Makes staying in a hotel room boring.
   

   

I knew that with a good clean room and a shower, I could tolerate whatever came my way during the day.  Throw in a great house keeper named Abdullah and it was made even easier.  Abdullah was a Berber and made couscous for me the first night.  Every day was a simple but wonderful breakfast.  In this picture he's teaching Sara how to tie a turban.  Sarah was one of 10 Brits.
    He knew where to find everything in the city.  Massage for $1, laundry for $5, Hash for.... well you get the picture, he was a concierge!

The courtyard in the Riad was a place of great peace and tranquility.  Every morning breakfast and every night, I'd plug in my computer and type for a couple of hours.  Abdullah would bring me tea and I would answer the door if someone was out late or newly arrived in town.  It was a trade we made without ever saying anything, but I figured he had to be tired as he was up at 5:30 every morning and up at least to midnight.  Either he was a triplet or he was working 24 hour shifts.
  This is a picture of my first night in Marrakech.  Dinner with Carla and Everrett. He from Seattle and she from Chile.







The great attraction to Marrakeck is NOT it's cleanliness.  It's the Djemaa el Fna Square.  The "Square" is nuts.  It is Barnum and Bailey without restrictions, rules, regulations or safety nets.  It's the place to go every night and indeed, every Moroccan does exactly that.

This is the place to see snake charmers, who are a royal pain in the fang.  If they so much as see you touching your camera, they run at you demanding money.  Be sneaky, but remember, they've been doing this for 1,000 years from the same spot.  You've got little chance of succeeding.  I would take many pictures with the camera at my side and pointing away as I faked talking to one of the Brits.  It worked because I'm using a digital camera.  "Back in the day..." never could have afforded that many throwaway pictures.

   




The monkey men are almost as bad.  They will come up to you and put the monkey on your back, head, shoulders and then demand money for the  picture.

Doesn't this girl look calm and relaxed??
Or...
Doesn't she look like she'd give her last $ to get this rabid animal off her shoulder??


The lady in green is thanking Allah that she isn't a tourist!

 



 I may not be the greatest promoter in the world, but I know that if I were going to dress up in "traditional garb"... in an effort to lure in the tourist wanting to see the "traditional garb", I'd lose the motorcycle... but hey... I don't live in Marrakech, so whatever.
Great drums
Great hats
Great outfits
Great moped???

During the day, the Djeema looks like this, empty.  Everyday, the owners of the food stands have to take down their metal stands and then erect them again when the next day arrives.   In the background you see the tallest minaret in Marrakech, which can be heard from everywhere... except my room!
 

 At night the Djeema is crazy with activity.  Story tellers, henna salesladies, old men selling fruit, orange juice stands with their incredibly never ending cat calls to the tourist that their oj is better than the other 45 other OJ hawkers.  I wanted to say, "Don't you think that I might know if I want an oj?"
     The food stall hawkers, however, are in a league by themselves.  Apparently, the Bureau of Tourism has told them that grabbing you and sitting you down on one of their shucky looking benches is not good for the city image, but that doesn't mean that you can't stand in their way and "usher" you toward a table.  Some are funny.
food hawker:  Please... sir... please... sit here...
me:   La shokran (no thanks)
food hawker - fresh chicken!
me:   I just ate!
food hawker - Okay... maybe next time?

I love the good guy approach!  Very novel!

   But the majority of the "salesmen" want you to sit at their very dirty looking food stalls and eat chicken, lamb, snails... etc.    Yep, those are snails that you buy by the bowl...and folks are lining up for them.  "Uhhh.... you can have my place in line...No, really... I insist!"
 



Another treat is to have Moroccan Mint tea or Berber Whiskey as the Berbers call it.  It is very good but there are two things wrong with it.  Allah only knows who the last guy was to drink out of the glass and secondly, there is literally a block of sugar, not cube, in each glass.  Unreal.

At the risk of being accused of exaggerating, alleyways that are no more than 7 feet wide and with people walking both ways, have motor bikes buzzing through them as if it's a main thoroughfare.   I saw two people get hit while I was walking to the square, all of about 300 meters from  our Riad.  The secret is to NOT make a lateral step.  Only go forward or stop, look, and then take a lateral step.  It is amazing how close they come next to your elbows, so keep them from flailing or from pointing your fingers.
     It looks like the guy in the ball cap on the right has set up to watch the Indy 500 or more like the Demolition Derby.

But wait!  Hold your horses.. No, DON'T hold your horses.   there's a late entry into the mix... it's a pull cart complete with donkey and owner.  Yes, he, and the donkey, and the minibike, and three year olds, and 90 year old men, and the pregnant women...and me...are all using these little alleyways.  I can't believe that more people are killed!

Now here's one that makes a worker for CPS (Child Protective Services) scream, "Job Security!!"



And to make it even more of a challenge to common sense... Let's imagine that Papa actually needs glasses.  Let's imagine that the face on the little girl isn't saying, "I'm scare witless!"

Madrid II - June 2012

    Madrid II - We have returned to Madrid so that I may see Zack off at the airport at 6:00 AM, and I myself, will take a flight to Marrakech, Morocco at 2:ooPM.  Marrakesh, to a boy of the 60's, is a dream.  During the Vietnam War, people escaped the draft by going to four main places: Canada; Kathmandu, Nepal; Lamu, Kenya: and Marrakech, Morocco.  But more on that later.  First, Zack and I had a couple of days in Madrid so we did the usual - museums, tapas, watching street performers, etc.
     Zack was ready to tackle the third big museum in Madrid, so we walked about town and went to see the Reina - Sofia Art Museum.   It had been closed the first time we were in Madrid.  I was willing to give the huge museums one more chance, but realistically, I was only going because betwixt the museum and our hotel... was a great place for chocolate con churros!  There... I said it.

 



 I began to look at the buildings as works of art, and to me, the ultimate work of art.  Here's how I see buildings as works of art:  They can't be built overnight;  It takes many people working together;  it requires people to have a shared vision and be able to communicate it to one another; and it requires originality yet conformity.




 

Imagine, actually erecting a building, where if you haven't done your research, people may be miserable - poor air-conditioning or water pressure, or worse, people could die.  Think about bridges that collapse or building that fall in minor earthquakes.
      In this building, someone had to put their name on the line when they were told that Schweppe's would be hanging a 100'  sign on the building, oh... and it must have lighting capabilities and did we mention that it would be 500 feet above the street that has 200,000 people per day walking under it?  I know a little bit about making decisions that affect people's lives and the pressure that goes with it.  My hat is off to the person that signed off on this project.  How many people told him that it wouldn't work.

So not only does a building have to serve a useful purpose, but it has to be pleasing to the eye as well.  Good heavens, think of the patience that an architect must have when designing and building a building.  The years of gathering permits, of hiring the right construction company that will be cheap, but competent.  The art of buying the materials:  Did you skimp on the concrete mix, use paint that will fade in five years, wood that will withstand the elements?  What about late additions?
Arch 1 - Well, here's the building you requested.
Head arch - Splendid!  It has taken years, but it looks fine!
Arch 1 - I'm glad you like it.
Head arch - I love it!  Oh and by the way, they want you to put a copper dome on the NW corner of it, so that they can have ballroom dances in it.  It will be open to the elements, so the dance floor must be weatherproof.


   

Egads! I haven't even spoken about the actual design.  Did anyone bother to ask the people who will be working in the building what they need?   How many outlets will you have per room?  How many restrooms and will they have hand dryers or paper towel dispensers?  Will you have single sheet toilet paper dispensers or rolls (Please no air)
Did I mention that the owners want a 60 foot Roman Centurian on top of the building?  Yeah, made of bronze and that can withstand 100 mph winds. It has to be heavy enough to not blow down on the crowd below in the plaza, but it can't sink through the floor and cause the ceiling below to sag.... and you have till Thursday to make it happen.
Oh, and the CEO would like to have an Olympic size diving pool on the roof.
Oh and ... make the building look pretty, too!

"Really?"  Where was the research, the doing of something that most can't do.  I don't like Swan Lake, but I can appreciate someone performing it.  I don't know of many people who can do those moves. But I think I know a whole school that can do this.

The Reina  was el giganto!  Four stories of art.  If you aren't sitting now, you need to be when you see this next piece of art.

    Yes, this is what it appears to be.... a friggin chair hanging on the wall.  And someone got paid to do this.
     Don't get me wrong, it's a nice chair, and the printing of the definition on the wall is outstanding.  A kindergarten teacher would be screaming orgasmically to see such penmanship, but really... in an art museum?
I can't imagine the negotiations with the museum curator.
Artist (A) - well for that amount of money, I'm thinking maybe of giving you a stool.
Curator  (C)- a stool... like a ....turd?
A - No,  a chair
C -how much for a love seat?
A - Oh!  They haven't printed that much money for a work of art of that magnitude!!
C - any cushions??

I have no pictures of Guernica by Picasso because the museum would not allow me to take a picture.  It wasn't personal.  Photography was banned.  There were two things impressive about it: one - the size.  It filled a wall that is bigger than any wall you have in your house.  two - the effect it had on the world regarding pacifism and the soon to be WWII.       That being said, I don't know how it caused such a clamor.  My guess is that the name Picasso helped quite a bit.  But the painting/drawing is a bit too abstract for me.  Shock, huh?

       Zack and I were sitting at a cafe on Plaza Mayor, which is completely surrounded by buildings which are true works of ART.... and playing cards.  He actually won!!  Partially because he has improved and partially due to him insisting that I have a San Miguel and an Amstel!  Done in by two beers.  I congratulate him for his cunning, if not shrewd tactics!
There were some unusual street performers - the first  was a guy who was blowing gigantic bubbles for little kids.  A word to his costume designer - don't dress like a Mafia hit man.  You're dealing with kids,  so, I don't know, lose the sunglasses and cigarette.  Just my thinking, but I'd run with my kids.  "Come on kids, Daddy's got diarreaha!  Let's get home quick!"

Here is a simple street performer act, though it has to be rough on the knees.  One of the job requirements must be, "must have experience catching a double header baseball game."  Not really original.  The idea is that you stand in front of it, trying to figure out  which head is the real one and while you are deep in contemplation, BOO!  He scares the Euro out of you!

But the winner for the summer street performing act is the pseudo guru.  One guru meditates while holding onto a pole with one hand, while his partner  pseudo guru holds him four feet off the ground with one hand.
  How do I know they are pseudo gurus?  A) never met a guru who smoked; B) never met a guru who had such raunchy tattoos.
    I'm sure that if I followed them after they got off work, I'd find them sleeping in the park and snockered on cheap wine.

I know it's a trick because the guy holding the stick rings a bell and then a real sleazy guy comes over with a giant black sheet and puts it over he two pseudo gurus and then you see some movement, and then the sheet comes off and they are standing.  I just cannot figure it out!  It was worth a Euro to be so perplexed.
These guys are good.  Even if there is a metal bracket that is attached to the pole and the guy on top is braced, how does the guy on the ground manage to hold him in the air for 30 minutes with one hand.
Neither is built that well.  Can only be one explanation....it's magic!

One thing that I won't miss about Spain are the grumpy waiters!  I finally figured out what their problem is... they want to be matadors.  Matadors don't smile.  Waiters don't smile.  Matadors have that smug, "I am way cool" look, Waiters have that smug, "get your own food look. "

They must be grossly underpaid because getting a smile out of them is rare.
I wonder if it would make a difference if they worked for tips.

Zack and I took a metro from the airport and caught Henny Youngman's latest act.  Actually, he was great, one because he was quite a good violinist and two because he took our minds off of an accident someone had had on the metro. PHEW!!  He played, "Don't Cry For Me Argentina"  which almost always makes me want to cry... and I'm not a huge Madonna fan.  The song is one of my favorites, however.  Yes, he earned a Euro!

The Museum of Ham is a chain of restaurants.  Great food.  Lousy waiters.
If you aren't a night owl in Spain, you won't be eating dinner at restaurants.  Zack and I didn't even leave the room for dinner until 10:30 on many nights.
It's amazing what a person can get use to! (Patrick Swayze - Roadhouse)

Speaking of rooms.... This is laundry day.  Anytime I get two or three days in one hotel, I do a little sink laundry.  I enjoy it.  I love that feeling of semi-clean underwear!
You want to feel rich?  Do your laundry in a Liliputian size sink without a stopper for a couple of weeks.  When you use your washing machine, you'l feel like Donald Trump!

How do they do it?!?!?!?!?

Figueres June-2012

Figueres, a wee little town about two hours north of Barcelona, is only on the map because it was the home of Salvadore Dali.  He was baptized here and one has to wonder if they held him under water a tad bit too long.  You probably already know that I am not a huge fan of his, but in some ways, I am.
I like that he didn't let his inhibitions stop him from doing what he wanted to do.  What he needed to do.
He built a museum to himself - can you say "self promotion.  So what?  Is there anything wrong with recognizing that you can sit around in life and wait in line or you can make your own line.  He made his own line.  If not for him, half of Figueres would be unemployed.   He, very much like Picasso, realized that the difference between a superstar artist and a starving artist has nothing to do with talent, rather it has to do with having a nose for creating publicity which leads to sales.  Both men realized that if an artist does what everyone else is doing, he will be getting a day job, because people don't buy ordinary... Consumers want something different, something special, and why...well, because it makes them feel like they are special...and we all know that everyone wants to be special!!

I knew the museum was going to be, er, uh, um, different, and as soon as you near his house, you get a quick orientation that, yep, this is going to be different.   Yep.  You put a 12" statue of the robot from the "Day the Earth Stood Still" in your front yard and watch the attention it gets.
"What?? Not enough attention, well then lets drill some holes in it, not have a face, and..."
Well...at least I can tell that it's a man, I think.

Okay, but that was just a warm-up for some kinkier stuff.  As you enter his house, he has a 1941 Cadillac in the front yard.  Not that unusual if you grew up in the rural South, except for the thousands or so of condoms hanging down over the naked mega-boobed Hindu-like woman.  I suppose we're suppose to guess or figure out the riddles of this "masterpiece", however, legend has it that he and his dad had a terrible falling out over his relationship with his lover, Gala, and the fact that Dali had been quoted in a newspaper saying, "I often spit on my mother's portrait."  His dad told him that he was no longer allowed in his home so Dali brought a condom with his own sperm in it to his dad and said, "Here, I owe you nothing more!"
Wow!!!  Have a nice day!!

Dali was a showman, just like Picasso.  Just like Barnum and Bailey.  Just like Terrell Owens and Ocho Sicko... Cinco.  They are all people with talent who realized that there are tons of equally talented wide receivers.  Equally talented artists.  So how to be different?  How to stand out in the crowd?   Well for Dali, it meant painting the Surreal.

He definitely could paint "normal" pictures, but why?  Walk through any medina and you'll find a gazillion pictures of Arabs on horses.  Here's one of Omar Shariff looking left. Here's one Omar looking right.  Here's one of Omar not looking.  They won't sell.  You can go to the next shop and find almost the same thing.   He wanted to "brand" himself, hence the peculiar mustache (I'm being kind), the whacked paintings, (okay that wasn't so kind), and the flamboyant lifestyle. Can you say, "Hey notice me!!!"

Notice me?  I'm bored.  Check out this statue of Dali.  What does his face say?  It says, "I'm bored to death.  Let's party!!"  and then he went off!

Boy, did he go off!
In the 60's we would have said that he was trippin'.




The longer you stare at this, the more you will see, which I think is pretty cool.  What does it all mean?? WTHK - Who the Heck Knows!

Wouldn't this make a lovely Christmas card?  A bunch of headless bodies lying by the sea in togas.
Hmmm... I think it means that if you are drunk, don't sleep near a beach where psychopathic Romans are camped.  They will dress you in togas, cut your head off and take them back to their camp on the other side of the beach.

Now this one is a no-brainer.  If you are a naked female, and you eat a decaying jackass that is on the beach... bad things may happen to you...like losing your head... 

or

 it could be a take on the Biblical line...." It will be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven".  This naked woman tried so hard to pass through the eyes of the needles on the beach, that her head became swollen and fell off, quickly changing to a man's head.  

Wow!  This IS a masterpiece!!!

The last work of art I saw in the town was not far from the museum and I don't know if Dali made it or not, but it was really cool.  It reflected his image onto a pole from an etching on the ground.  Probably had to be there to appreciate it...or be like Dali and imagine it!

So... should you go to Figueres???  Just know what you are getting into.  There will be things that will make you gag and others that you will marvel.  If you have the ability to focus on the marvelous and overlook the flamboyance, then go.

Barcelona - June -2012

Barcelona - June 2012

Fantastic architecture abounds in Barcelona and that is even discounting Gaudi from the conversation.  I believe I have found my favorite type of graphic art.  Architecture! And, at least from a distance, I even know the building that is the pinnacle of architecture...for me, anyway.  It's a water company building and no one ever even mentions it when they talk about Barcelona.  Zack and I were walking from the Columbus Monument (right)  to our hotel, which was several miles away and all uphill when we saw it from a distance.
We first saw the water company as we crossed a major road and it darn near got us run over by 34 taxis.  We couldn't help it.  We  were mesmerized.  We thought an alien space ship had landed.  We walked toward it as if drawn by a Martian magnetic beam.

We also went through the Spanish equivalent of the Arc d' Triumphe.  Not sure what victory it's celebrating, but it was a cool arch.  Upon seeing it, I got the feeling that someday I'd be walking through the arch in Paris.  The last time I was there I was on the back of a motorcycle doing 90 mph at about 2:00 in the morning.  No, it wasn't by choice... but it was memorable!  What's that saying, "Bad experiences make the best memories!"

Another building that caught our eye was the Barcelona bull ring.  After staring at it, it dawned on us what was different about the bullring.  There was no, nada, zero, graffiti on it. Made me think that the good ol' boys had let it be known that anyone who tags their wall would be used for horn sharpening.

Here's a bit of architecture that defies logic, unless the owner/builder inherited a very narrow strip of land and said, "Well, what can we do with this fifteen' wide by 200' strip of land?"  The answer, build a very slit of a building about 6 stories high.  Pretty cool the way it tapers to a space that can only be used as a stairwell... a narrow stairwell at that.

Barcelona street performers:
This one is easy - Jim Carrey.  Cute, but not worth very many Euros.  You gotta stand on one foot or something.

Not really sure who he is suppose to be.  Maybe a unicyclist that has a green paint fettish?  Sorry.  No Euros for green people wearing sunglasses on a unicycle.

Okay, you can have a Euro if for no other reason than you can play an accordion.  You would have had two, but the hat cost you.
Speaking of hats, what climbed on top of that lady's head that is red?





I have seen more accordion players in the last 45 days than I have seen in my entire life and I watched the Godfather 18 times!

Where are all the jugglers juggling cannon balls dipped in gasoline and set afire?
Where are the flaming sword eaters?


Wow!  Things sure have changed in thirty years.  It was about 30 years ago that I was in Europe and back then, artists were drawing beautiful pictures on the side walk.  In fact, the Mona Lisa was much better in sidewalk chalk than Leonardo's diminutive 10"x12" original.  I know.  I know. It was a masterpiece.  So was the sidewalk chalk drawing...until it rained!
Last street performer -

All of these street performers were seen enroute to the museum for the Holy Grail - alias the Chocolate Museum.  It was to be our first of three museums we visited that day.



















 Zack's favorite museum was the Chocolate Museum. If a dog could be used to represent how the chocolate samples made us feel it would be this guy!

The Picasso museum which had a few good pictures and a lot more of his abstract paintings.  Seems that he and Dali both started off playing the game, drawing straight lines, coloring in between the lines, etc, and then at some point said, " I'm bored!" and went off.  Look at the similarity in this picture of Picasso and this little boy who claims to be his offspring??

I love this picture.  Not quite sure who the man is with Picasso, but just for fun, let's assume that he paid Picasso to paint a picture for him, I can imagine what he's thinking behind that little smile, which is really a wince of pain in the knowledge that he was duped.
.  After querying many museum goers, here was the winning answer:
"Holy Sh*%&!!!!  I paid you a gazillion dollars and you draw a picture like this???  What did you do... subcontract out to a 4th grader?!  Couldn't you have at least bought a box of crayons for the tyke?"

This is me after three museums.  The Chocolate Museum was okay, but the chocolate bar they gave us with the price of admission was great.  The Picasso Museum was okay as well, it's just so difficult to go gaga over... over... over, "What the Heck is THAT!" paintings.  (I can see art aficionados filing lawsuits right now:).  The third museum we went to was the Antoni Gaudi Museum and it was interesting to see his clay models.  Very cool!
BUT... enough friggin' museums for one day! (month)

We were museumed-out.  So what does a good moral upstanding father do for his son... he brings him to a WINE festival.  For $12 we got ten coupons and were able to buy a total of 5 very full glasses of wine.  I needed something to eat so we walked down the street to the morning market and buy cheeses from all over Spain.  Delicioso!   It was a great time.  Then, when we started to walk back to the hotel, we saw the aliens had landed.  I thought, "Either we are in big trouble... or the wine was better than I thought."







































See the flag.  It's a pretty flag.  It is the Flag of Catalunya!  The people of the state of Catalunya, which is in NW Spain want to secede and be their own country.
Bad news, Catalunya.  It takes more than a language, more than a flag, more than desire, to make a country.  You will have to learn that you are more alike than you are different from people, especially those in Spain.
At the wine festival there were booths set up near by trying to rekindle, stoke, build support for the Catalunyan culture.  They are really big on independence from Spain...and they'll stay like that... until another war comes up... or an economic crisis occurs.  I had a great conversation with a Spaniard from San Sebastian in the Basque Country in northern Spain.  I have learned that no matter where you are, people have to feel special.  Most have to feel that they are "different".  Think:
Richmond Va.  - Daughters of the Confederacy
Boston - Daughters of the Revolution.
Plymouth -  If you can't trace your family back to the Mayflower, well, you aren't colonial now are you?  The things we do to set ourselves apart.  Maybe if the Martians attacked, we'd see how much we're really alike.  Very quickly, people would see that there isn't much difference in parenting around the world- we all want our kids to grow up healthy and be safe and have jobs etc.  But no, let's split from Spain... and then of course we have the fact that the Basque in Spanish Basque are sooooo different from the French Basque, so let's divide again.  And then you don't expect the Coastal Basque to agree with the Inland Basque sooooooo let's divide again.  Pretty soon, Mamma Basque and Daddy Basque and Sonny Basque are all having their own kingdoms.
Basque in this - Get along.  There is strength in numbers!  Santoos!!!

Okay, now I'm on a kick.  Speaking of getting along, tell me that you haven't noticed the number of people who are at dinner together and don't talk to one another.  Hmmm. Where are you, Martians???  Get here soon!

Here's something that would be fun to do.  Zip around a city in one of these.  We saw these too late to do them, (after the wine festival) but how fun.  Now I understand why the drivers around here drive like maniacs.  They've been trained in Formula One cars!

This is the balcony view from our "hotel"/youth hostel in Barcelona.  I really liked it, except I had a top bunk, there was no place to put our backpack, the shower was feeble, the toilet was unassembled, the sink wasn't big enough to drown a gnat, our roomies smoked, and it was four floors up.  But somehow, I had one of my best nights ever.  I sat up on the balcony until 2AM, enjoying a cool zephyr while emailing friends and listening to such good music (thank you I Tunes).
      One good thing about staying up late was that I was so tired when I hit the pillow, that I don't think about the top bunk, the shower, the toilet, the...  I do remember that my last thought was thanking God that I was so lucky to have such a beautiful night.  I wish everyone that kind of moment.  I was/am rich!