Here for the Bread: Barcelona, Part One

Happy April, everyone:

You know, a funny thing happens when one starts a blog...

The Spanish and Catalan Flags

One thinks to oneself, "Self, I bet I'll post at least once a week, and I'll keep my friends and family updated on our events."

"Yeah right, Dad."

Well, that plan went out the window, but here is a new post (a solid month later than I had intended).

First, a quick rundown of the past month:

I returned to the U.S. for the first time since August for two weeks of concerts and some teaching at the University of Buffalo.

Set up for Bach's St. Matthew Passion with the Buffalo Philharmonic

Daphne turned 11!

Our intensive French courses have ended (for now).
The Three-Disc Compilation of songs by the American composer, Virgil Thomson, which I've been working on for over two years was released!

(This can be purchased...ahem,....at: http://www.newworldrecords.org/album.cgi?rm=view&album_id=94139 or on amazon.com)

Leo has turned a major corner in his grasp of the French language.

Flying into French

and.....

just before I left for the States, we took a trip to Barcelona. That is the subject of this post.

Fisherman on the Mediterranean.

The Cathedral in Barcelona

I first visited France in the winter of 2002 and immediately felt a special kinship with this wonderful country. My subsequent visits only solidified that feeling, and moving here has cemented it. I've often thought, "Wow, the French lifestyle is a much more relaxed lifestyle."

But then, last month, we went to Spain. And, by comparison, my idea of a relaxed lifestyle has been augmented.

Don't get me wrong: if travel teaches a person only one thing, it's that people are people regardless of nationality/location/etc. People all want good things for themselves, their families, their friends and their communities.

That said, Spain strikes me as quite special.

A large pan of Spanish Paella

If I could grill calamari like this, I'd never leave the house.

The food alone is worth its own post. (I know, I know-I'm often about the food. Sorry-You can't help who you are)

Nothing extravagant, just Mediterranean simplicity and care. Fresh seafood, grilled squids, beautiful tomato-soaked breads, fruity red wines and, the new favorite of all three of the kids, Patatas Bravas: among the most traditional of the Barcelona tapas, consisting of crisp, roasted potatoes topped with rich tomato sauce and spiked with a garlicky aioli. Cora ate them every single day of our trip.

Life is better when consuming carbs.

This is an actual clementine citrus tree. I did not doctor the color. That's real.

The city is also home to a striking Gothic quarter where centuries-old gargoyles watch over passersby. One need only to look up...

Barcelona from the roof of the Cathedral

Katherine, Daphne and Leo actually rode on that tiny cable car which traverses the entire city port and the statue of Christopher Columbus, pictured beneath. Cora and I did not...

We also spent a good part of one morning nearly in a trance, marveling over the work of some amazing Spanish glass blowers.

The architecture of the city (Gaudí and earlier) is a real contrast with the Lyonnais backdrop to which we're now accustomed.

Yes, this is us climbing the scaffolding to the roof of the Cathedral in Barcelona.

Some of Barcelona's streets are even narrower than Lyon's.

The Barcelona Erotic Museum...

...and its friendly proprietor.

I could have happily explored church after church and wandered the streets for days (and we did), but the kids once again did what kids do best: they reminded us that pleasure is often found in nothing more complicated than climbing ropes and feeding birds.

Of all of the sights, sounds and flavors of Barcelona, they were probably most excited just to visit (and revisit) the Plaça de Catalunya, and throw seeds to hundreds of appreciative Spanish pigeons.