Dog's Balls Cathedral and a Night on the Town

Trip Start Apr 12, 2006
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Trip End Ongoing


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Wednesday, May 3, 2006

It was a slightly overcast noon wakeup today in Barcelona, and after scalding the bejeezus out of my back on the temperamental showerknob, I was well alert and pumped to be within this fine city and in prime tourist mode. With respect for Gaudi's brilliance growing more and more, we took the metro to the museum de Gaudi, a large green park atop a big hill, with a sensational 360 degree view of the city and its sprawling hilly surroundings. The park was yet another example of Gaudi's top notch skills, concrete pillars resembling trees, 2 quirky houses that looked the residences of Dr Seuss, and the famous lookout area lined with winding tiled seating, memorably featured in that top film, the Spanish Apartment. With minimal disrespect as possible, the view of the city left us with the conclusion that La Sagrada Familia should in fact have been called Dog's Balls Cathedral, because across the vast skyline of Barcelona, it really does stick out like nothing else, granted you lose some of the panache of the original title, but I reckon they should go with it. I reckon Mr Gaudi would agree.

Returned back to the main drag of Las Ramblas, to the Barcelona foreshore and port area, strolling along in the breezy afternoon past a huge monument of Christopher Columbus, and a giant happy lobster. Perused the pristine alleys and laneways of the Bari Gothic - the old Gothic quarter, the core of the old city before the huge population sprawl. Was randomly approached by a fruity Catalonian named Ramon, who casually invited us to take part in a short film, dubiously entitled 'Blow'. Dr seuss house
Dr seuss house
 Leading us through the local civic city, suspicions of Ramon as an amateur porn director became less likely, and we each took turns under the limelight, blowing the arse out of a coloured balloon, to be edited within an abstract 200 person montage of rubber explosion. Cannes film festival here we come.

Anyway after that random diversion, Rev once again fed his insatiable fetish for icecream, Brooks bought some blonde hair dye, and I bought a toothbrush to replace the 69 pence coarse English brush that looked more like the brush you use in the shower to wash your pink scalded back with. With all needs met, we went back to Sant Jordi, dyed Brooksy's hair an unexpected shade of bloodnut, then hooked up with our Commonwealth compadres, Philly D and Pam. Hooked up also with Brooksy's mate Kristina, and her two Mexican pals Daniel and Dulce, consuming some of the finest pizza I've ever inhaled, at Pizza Rapid, and purchasing multiple sixpacks of beer for only 2 Euros each. Hung out at Kristina's before hitting the town and burning the oil over multiple cervezas, outside a local bar in a nearby plaza. It was invigorating to converse in great length with people with such different outlooks and backgrounds, and even more refreshing to discover just how similar we all are, despite differences in nationality, race and skincolour. With the wee hours approaching, we cabbed to a club called 'Bikini', manned at the door by 4 beefy, black clad bouncers, who collectively shared 1 neck, and refused us entry because of our shoes. Canadian Phil had the gall to approach the wall of Beef, brandishing his rude mohawk, and only socks on, much to the nonchalance of the humourless ape-men. It was extremely satisfying to be able to curse these primates to their face, in obnoxious colloquial Australian. Walked the surprisingly empty streets of Barcelona until cabbing back to the hostel, bleary eyed and ready for the sack.
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