This is the first blog of a series on Spain.
My travel to Spain expanded and connected my random impressions of the country before my trip. Ancient buildings and lands, Gaudi, Dali, Picasso, Miro, and the shimmering blue of the Mediterranean Sea all combined for a wondrous, colorful journey. Cervantes’ Don Quixote originated here. I saw windmills, though they weren’t the kind the storied knight might have battled. There were empty plains, small farms, magical islands, and sharp peaks, and I didn’t see half of the country on my 2024 excursion.
Spain was a celebration of the old and the very new. This trip focused on Barcelona and the surrounding region of Catalonia. It also included a one-night stop in Madrid and two nights on the island of Mallorca, based in Palma.
Barcelona, a city of 1.7 million people, manages to be ancient and cutting-edge modern, depending on the part of the city you are exploring. I was charmed by buildings conceived and constructed more than a millennium ago in the city's center. The stone that comprises these buildings is brooding in its grays and browns and is aged with a patina, an unmistakable sign of history. The narrow alleyways invite exploring.
As one moves out from the Old City of Barcelona’s El Born and Barri Gotic neighborhoods, centered by the Cathedral of Barcelona, the light and color increase in intensity. The city moves up inclines that start gently and then grow steeper past the Sagrada Familia to Park Guell and beyond. To the south of the city center is Montjuic. One can look north or west across Barcelona from the highest points of the far reaches as the city slopes down to the sea’s beaches and bustling harbor. It’s a spectacular view.
I came for art and architecture, and I learned about the history of Catalonia. My Barcelona hotel was near Placa de Catalunya, one block from Las Ramblas. The street was converted to a pedestrian walkway, reportedly overwhelmed by tourists in the summer. This past summer, it was also the site of anti-tourism protests. During my October visit, it was busy but not crowded. Las Ramblas provided an engaging walk to the Old City. Both sides of the route were under construction, making access less convenient but still functional.
Catalan history includes ongoing separatist battles as late as the 2010s. The simmering conflict is reflected in the flags flying from some balconies with white stars on blue triangles. It is illegal for those flags to be displayed on public buildings. In Catalonia, the official language is still Spanish, but the autonomous community, including Barcelona, has, in practice, adopted Catalan as its first language.
This conflict reminded me of a closer neighbor, Quebec, where similar issues have arisen. Though the Quebecois have also not yet formed an independent nation, they successfully legally required the province's first and official language to be French rather than English.
Not speaking the language hinders a deeper understanding of a country’s residents' culture. Fortunately, most of the service people I encountered spoke English. Fluency in English is as essential for British visitors as it is for serving Americans. My daughters speak slightly more Spanish than I do, which helped us navigate the few occasions when it was needed.
In Barcelona, I distinctly remember one of my kids looking at a sign and then at me and saying, “What language is that?” I knew what language it was even though I didn’t know its basic please and thank you phrases. It was the unofficial first language–Catalan. Spanish is listed second, and English is third. This order was consistent on the signage in Sagrada Familia, museum art labels, hotel receipts, and information almost everywhere.
I also traveled north in Catalonia to Figueres, near the border with France. I visited the city to see the museum Dali designed for himself, and, on the way, I stopped in Girona, which has buildings dating back to medieval times. Girona also is the site of some filming for “Game of Thrones.” I climbed steep stairways to access the city's original walls from its ancient days. I could walk along the top of the city walls and view newer areas that had expanded from the fortress century by century.
In a one-night outing to Madrid, I had a short course on a small segment of Spain’s history during a national holiday, Fiesta Nacional de España, commemorating the day Columbus landed in the Americas in 1492. In Madrid, it’s also referred to as Hispanic Day. Columbus Day has been renamed Indigenous People’s Day in some states and localities of America. Indigenous people consider Columbus Day a celebration of European colonization. Seeing the issue from Spain’s perspective added background to my understanding but didn’t change my opinion. Spain has shores on both the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. Sailing and discovery are woven into the country’s existence.
Spain, France, and England colonized parts of the current United States. My residence in Florida impacts my interest in Spain’s past ventures in the Americas. St. Augustine, about an hour south of my location, is a tourist-focused celebration of Spain’s arrival in the New World, as demonstrated by Ponce de Leon’s search for the Fountain of Youth leading to the first permanent European settlement in the New World. Spain was also the original builder of the Castillo de San Marcos, located in St. Augustine and managed by the National Park Service.
My journey inland from Barcelona to Madrid via train gave us a quick view of the interior of this region of Spain, revealing how much of Spain I would not be able to experience. Moving fast on the high-speed train across the countryside showcased sparsely settled areas and farms. Wind and solar farms dominate my memory of this desolate section of the country.
Like Barcelona, this short glimpse of Madrid provided a view of old and new, though with more of an air of officialdom than Barcelona. The gray, rainy day likely clouded my judgment, but Madrid seemed less lively, even on a national holiday, than Barcelona. I saw Picasso’s Guernica at Museo Sofia Reina, which was half my reason for going to Madrid. I didn’t make it to the Prado. Admission to both museums was free on this national holiday. Free admission meant the usual timed-ticket system wasn’t in use. The long lines of people to see the art made a mess of my ongoing back issues. One compelling museum is all I had in me. Fortunately, the Sofia Reina was outstanding. Later, my daughters enjoyed the holiday concerts on stages in a public park provided free of charge a few blocks from the hotel. It may have been a different experience for me with more time, smaller crowds, less traffic congestion, and some sunshine.
Following my Madrid stop-over, I flew to Mallorca in the Mediterranean. Mallorca, an island of almost one million people, is the largest of Spain’s Balearic Islands. I stayed in Palma and journeyed to the island's other side. Mallorca was intended to be the rest and relaxation part of my trip, but that rarely, maybe never, works out for me. I saw as much of it as possible in the allotted three days and two nights. If I ever return to Spain, this island will be on the agenda for a more extended stay. The marina, mountains, and old city were all inspiring. Viewing the land from a boat sailing along the coast deepened my fascination. Every experience challenged my senses.
Travel taunts me to explore more often for longer periods, which was never more true than in Spain. Look for more blogs coming soon on my favorite parts of this adventure.
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