Close your eyes...

The sand and the see

When we asked the lady at the hotel desk for directions to a nearby beach, she wanted to know if we wanted a "Barcelona beach" or a good beach.
Hmm.
We wanted a beach in Barcelona where we were, of course.
We did not want to board a bus or train to a beach far away and we couldn't see anything wrong with the beach right in front of us.
It had pleasant sand, warm blue water, boats going by and plenty of sun.
We couldn't see any problems and we were totally enjoying ourselves in the water and on the sand.
It was also crowded but not too.
Many of the locals had left the city for cooler places during the hottest part of the summer.
We had brought water and snacks and towels and hats.
We laid back and relaxed.
"Oh, I see the problem," Marc said after a minute.
I looked around.
The guy in front of us seemed fine except for the fact that he wasn't a guy but actually a lady without a top.
And she wasn't alone in her world.
Apparently in Spain the stores don't sell tops with the swimsuits.
At least the ladies around us didn't have any.

Not a problem...just keep your eyes and mouth shut.

Missing a step...

Before we left for our visit to England and Spain, my doctor sent me in for an MRI to determine where the discs in my back were and what they were doing. Had they collapsed or shifted? Were they causing the pain in  my upper arms and hands?

The tile work in the alcazar is legendary

He also prescribed some pain pills I should take every four hours.
I didn't want to be drugged for the trip and the sightseeing.
I already had insulin pens I was hauling with me which required I find a refrigerator in a couple of the small hotels that didn't provide a mini-bar in the room.
So I thought I could just tough it out although it made hanging onto the Metro straps a little hard and raising my arms to put a carry-on up in the overhead bin on the airpline.

The alcazar gardens are works of art

I winced a bit as the days wore on but I was dealing.
After all, what could I do several thousand miles from my home and bed?
We had plans, things to do.
We were doing one of those things in Seville.
We were checking out the Alcazar with its fountains and mosaic tiles when I missed a step.
The jolt was painful.
I felt it all up and down my spine.
Marc said my face reflected the moment.
However, once the pain stopped, I was amazed at what I felt.
Nothing.
Nada.
I could lift my arms to the sky, twist and twirl.
I understand that this may not last and I recognize that it's an unconventional way to fix a painful problem.
And I in no way recommend it.
But in the meantime, I'm celebrating the respite..
And hoping no one sends me a bill for chiropractic therapy.

The Sagrada Unfamilia

One side of the Sagrada Familia

Inside the Sagrada Familia

The chapel in the forest

One of the Spanish tourist sites on our list was, of course, the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.
I knew very little about it before we visited except it was a must-see.
I had a vision of this castle-like structure that Robert Langdon dropped into when he needed a place to hide for a minute in the "Origin" book.
Well, it is castle-like and huge. It makes you gasp at first glance, partly because it is so big and tall and it looks like a child has played in the mud to make the towers.
It's really indescribable.
It rises to 566 feet and has four different facades.
Inside it's like a big forest, serene and colored with the light from green, orange and blue stained glass windows.
It's very soothing and unlike any other cathedral we visited.
The ornamentation is all outside with statues that depict Christ throughout his life: when he is born, as he taught and as he died.
It's a spectacular feat of architecture overseen by Antoni Gaudi and under construction for 131 years since 1882.
There are still 14 towers to be constructed and much detail work to be done but the plan is to get it all done by 2026 even though Gaudi died at 81.
I came away much more impressed than I expected.
I knew we were seeing a World Heritage site, the most popular site in Spain but I didn't expect it to move me.
In fact, it wasn't until we were on the rooftop of the Casa Milà-La Pedrera that I fully appreciated it.
I could look over and through the archways and see the Sagrada Familia.

The Guida Pedrera, built with no rules

I am uncertain as to whether he was a genuis or a crazy man, with many experts divided as to what his decisions as architect and builder mean.
He was fined for building his Pedrera too high. He horrified the residents of Barcelona when he built what is a completely unorthodox multi-level home for himself but declared his methods as based on nature and therefore inspired.

On the rooftop of the Pedrera, high and spooky

He did his own thing. He bent the rules. He made buildings that have impressed and intrigued people for more than a hundred years, including the Park Güell, the Palau Güell, the Pedrera, the Casa Vicens, the Nativity Façade and the Crypt of the Sagrada Família, the Casa Batlló, and the Crypt of the Colònia Güel.
He's everywhere in Spain and talked about the world over. (Did you know he used the skeleton of a python to use as a model for the interior of the Pedrera?)
I think I vote for his being a genuis.
A note: You absolutely need tickets purchased online ahead of a visit. It sells out and there's no mercy at this religious site.

Bread and jam

I have a little story I like to read to my grandchildren about a child named Francis who would only eat bread and jam.
Nothing else.
She turned up her nose at new things and yet was alarmed when her mother stopped offering her the spaghetti and other delights the family was having for supper.
It's filled with cute little songs as well and illustrations but I like it because I identify with Frances.
I know her pain as she looks at wiggly eggs and other threatening foods.
In Spain, I faced three strange meals a day for 18 days.
That - I explained to Marc - is a lot of food hurdles to climb over, 54 if you don't count airline "meals" and snacks.
Marc was in hog heaven. He likes vinegar and Saffron and onions and squiggly creatures in strange sauces.
We had to do a lot of talking about the daily meals.
He would have a traditional English breakfast while I looked for raisins in my Muesli.
He asked the waiters for the traditional favorites while I looked for pizza.
The further into Spain we went, the harder it was to find things I can eat to fill out my meals, things like bread and ice water.
It kind of went like this:
Marc had shrimp paella with a 5-inch beady-eyed critter sitting in the middle of the platter.
He ate squid and octopus rings and clam in their shells.
Sharon: cheese pizza and Sprite
Marc: had Ox Tail soup
Sharon: cheese and ham sandwich with no dressing and Sprite
Marc: had Guzpacho soup
Sharon: potstickers and Sprite
There were a couple of highlights because the restaurant right across from our hotel was a copycat version of Texas Roadhouse with ribs.
There I had a marvelous plate of grilled vegetable two nights in a row!
At the last place we ate by Gaudi's Pedrera I had a totally splendid piece of salmon with real bread (No butter because Europe doesn't believe in butter).
On the flight home, the airline actually served a chicken and potato and spinach dish that was tasty.
But mostly, I dreaded every meal. I always had to make myself study the menu searching for something safe.
So here's some advice from a food coward.
When in Europe, take some packets of salt and pepper and something to deal with the aftertaste like Peanut M&Ms.
Or as some might advise me: grow up and deal with it.