ONE BEAUTY AND TWO DISAPPOINTMENTS

CASA BATLLO

When we booked our hotel I was totally unaware of how close we'd be to one of Gaudi's most famous buildings, Casa Batllo. The spelling of this apartment building always throws me. I'm not sure but I think the Spanish consider the double "ll" a vowel. I've listened as closely as I can and as far as I can tell the sound of the "ll" hits my ears as an "eeey" sound. In American English it's a little like the sound you'd use to say "Yippy". It's the sound that exploded out of our mouths when we managed to do a special "skip the lines" and get escorted right into Casa Batllo.
I had purchased our tickets well in advance through the Casa Batllo online site. They were billed as "skip the line" tickets; they just didn't say what lines you'd get to skip. In putting together our sprinter's tour through Gaudi's Barcelona I had a few small breaks on my printed itinery sheet. Since day one was pretty packed I only scheduled our first tour at Casa Batllo on our second day for eleven. It meant we could leave the hotel at 10:55am and still have a minute or two to spare before our eleven o'clock entry time. Time is sometimes not your friend and as it turned out neither are "skip the line" tickets. The only line we could skip was the one for the poor souls who hadn't bought any advance tickets. They clearly had a lot more time on their Barcelona dance cards than we did and a lot more patience.
Rick doesn't stand in line for anything even after living in NYC for 46 years if there are more than 3 people in line at the bank he turns around at the door! I knew I was in trouble. If I didn't come up with something soon he was going to skip this one, walk back to the hotel and throw himself into the kiddie pool with the speedo boys.
I did notice that there was one line that was empty. It was labeled "Gold" entry. A very nice young woman who worked for Casa Batllo was walking along the line with all us " skip the line" ticket  holders making sure all of us were entitled to be this line. I grabbed my chance and pulled her over. With my best impersonation of a nice destitute guy I asked if there was any way we could upgrade to gold. She lifted her eyebrows, looked us over and then took our hands and said, "Come with me" in that Catalan lisp that can be so endearing. She pulled us all the way to the front of the line, shook her head at the woman behind the ticket booth, got us "gold" status and then made the man holding the rope preventing any "skip the line" interlopers from getting past him without his say to drop the rope and let us pass. I could have kissed her.

Many tours now have the gimmick of an audio accompaniment; another way of raising the price of entry. The devise comes with a strap but you still have to hold it especially the ones here because they had video as well as audio. I have to be hands free in these places or I can't take any pictures. Rick, on the other hand, opted for the audio/video guided assistance. He might have gotten a lot more out of the self-guided tour than I did but he's always expected me to be the official photographer.

Casa Batllo was a real gem on Gaudi's necklace of architectural masterpieces. Everything about it left the glint a genuine diamond has. This was not a paste imitation.

The building circles around an interior air shaft tiled in blues descending from dark marine blue at the top to a pale pastel watery blue near the bottom. It had the feel of falling water spilling out from the skylight at the top and cascading down to the pool below.

From the moment you entered you knew you were going to be a surfer hanging ten on a perfect wave. The staircase stringers and base moldings started the journey of delightful uneasiness as they undulated and created their own crests and valleys.

As you walked from room to room everything curved and rounded and made you drift along on a psychedelic trip.

Even the ceilings spun around like a nautilus shell circling into tighter spirals until they resolved in a crystal chandelier.

Staircases seemed to drip as if they had come out of a Dali painting where pieces of metal seemed to melt in your hand.

A brilliantly tiled niche hidden behind a scaly undulating wall provided a little love nest where young girls could sit with a suitor on one side while their nanny sat as chaperon on the other.

Beyond the niche was a series of archways, some open and others with French doors, all with stained glass inserts of large rondels that changed color when you passed through from one side to the other.

Once you ascended the last staircase leading to the roof the magic didn't stop. Gaudi's amazing tile work became almost luminescent looking more like carnival lights as if the roof were a midway, and you were on a huge amusement ride.

Since we held the golden tickets we got privileged access to a special exhibit of furniture once used in the owner's apartment. With the tickets we had originally purchased we would have been restricted to viewing this window and door from the outside. With our gold pass we were allowed a special glimpse into what the apartments looked like from within.

Once again, sometimes you never know where a door may lead you. Casa Batllo was a golden ticket well worth the additional price of entry. Casa Batllo was an example of Gaudi at his best.




















LA PEDRERA

The first night we were in Barcelona I did some reconnaissance, looking to uncover how far we'd have to go to get to the places I'd bought advance tickets to see. As luck would have it I found both the Casa Batllo and La Pedrera as dusk was setting. The two are only blocks apart. La Pedrera at night with the glow of the streetlights on iron lampposts was the best La Pedrera was going to look. My advance tickets for La Pedrera were for a night cocktail party and light show. Once again had I have dug a little deeper and looked a little closer at the event description I might have been a little wiser and a lot less disappointed. Rick was the smart one. He opted out of even going pleading it was way too late for him. I went alone and I was so glad I did, my disappoint was enough, better to have one disappointed rather than two.

Walking through the gate of La Pedrera and into the lobby was okay. I was fashionably late thinking it was going be a self-guided tour and free flowing event  like Casa Batllo with the added bonus of a wine party happening on the roof. What had already begun in the lobby when I arrived was a lecture by a poor girl who was trying to convince my group that the video she was about to show would make the spirit of the building burst into their hearts. The video was projected from a twenty-year old projector onto three slated metal window shades that gave the whole video a kind of ghoulish green cast. The images had nothing to do with Gaudi or the building but were fields of wheat and crashing waves. After a ten-minute finale our guide asked as she place her hand on her heart if we could feel the spirit. No one responded. We were then given the option of walking the seven flights up to the attic or take an elevator. I opted for the stairs assuming they would be as beautiful as Casa Batllo. They weren't. They were industrial stairs painted two undistinguishable colors separated by a wavy line. The only thing I got out of the stair climb was a state of being out of breath. Once all of us had managed to reach the top it was clear we had self divided into two groups: the wheezers who walked up and the gigglers that took the lift. We now had to walk through an exhibit in a humunguous arched space devoid of any of Gaudi's signature detailing. We were told it was used as the building's laundry room where the servants would do the wash and hang it up to dry because of the louvered windows allowing a breeze used to dry the newly clean laundry. By this time I was feeling as if maybe I was being hung up to dry.

The exhibit did provide two bits of interesting information. The first was the explanation of how Gaudi designed many of his more complicated buildings. He did it with chains and weights that he hung upside down over a mirror.

Then he'd photograph the image that was reflected in the mirror and used that to do his sketches and drawings.
The second bit of information was about the family that had commissioned Gaudi to build La Predera. They wanted  a better and more luxurious building than their rival the Casa Batllo. Once the building was completed they felt the results weren't as grand as the Casa Batllo so they sued Gaudi It didn't work. They lost. As revenge they had their apartment interior demolished and rebuilt with straight walls and then they furnished it in the style of Louis XVI. This explained why we didn't get to see much more than the lobby and the attic.

But the biggest disappoint was the final rooftop light show. I had expected something like a dancing waters show where the sculptural chimneys would be lit with dramatic color and we'd sit around with our complimentary glass of wine and chat up the marvels of the man and his buildings. No such luck. It was another projection fiasco with more crashing waves, exploding planets and ending in bare breasts. Whether out of boredom or ignorance my group kept trying to take selfies. Even though the light show was ridiculous the last thing I wanted was a picture for my album with someone posing I didn't know or care to know. I left down the seven flights of stairs and back out into the street before the wine was served.










PARQUE GUELL

The last time I was at Parque Guell there were no admission tickets needed. You could wander at your own leisurely pace, sitting on the beautifully collaged benches with a crusty loaf of bread, a little jam and a nice bottle of wine. Well … not any more.

I had bought tickets for five o'clock in the afternoon on the same day we had made a morning trip to Casa Batllo. I was thinking that might allow us several hours of pool time in between tours. It was my hope it would give Rick* the opportunity to re-energize his engines so we could go to one more place on my bucket list. By five in the afternoon I expected most of the crowds to have gone home. Boy was I wrong!

*EDITOR'S NOTE:  Who is this Rick guy and if he is so difficult to travel with why has our illustrious writer chosen him as a traveling companion?

We got to Parque Guell at our designated time. Once inside there's a famous lizard made from Guadi's signature chipped porcelain and glass that appears to crawl down the steps that lead up to the next level of the park. The closest I could get to the lizard without some couple jumping up in front of my iPhone was this picture of one green arm.

I do have to admit that much of our disappointment was due the extensive amount of construction and refurbishing the park was undergoing. I just wish it hadn't happened on our visit.
We stayed for less than an hour before we found a cab back to the hotel.