Barcelona, Day 2

Yesterday I wrote that I wouldn't be blogging today, but I lied. More on that later.

We woke up a bit later than normal, had a leisurely breakfast, and got together in the hotel lobby complete with swimsuits, ready for the day. We took a bus up onto Montjuic, planning to take the city's very cool cable car across town to the beach. We waited around for it to open, checking out the amazing view of the city and girding ourselves for the already oppressive heat. Unfortunately, after they officially opened they informed us that they'd had some technical problem the afternoon before and the cable car hadn't been running since. Poor Simon, our guide, who'd already been betrayed by so many thing outside of his control, was pretty incensed, but we didn't hold the incident against him.

We walked back down the hill a ways and took a city bus into the center of town, then a subway, then a hike to the beach. There, students piled their things around a couple generous adults and took off into the water. I found a bathroom with very small, dirty stalls and practiced my contortionist skills to change into my suit and put my shoes back on to walk across the hot sand. Then I walked out into the surf to look for agates for my wife, Paige, who collects them. After putting together a few good handfuls I swam out to hang out with the kids. The water was cool and wonderful on such a hot day.

Groups of kids got tired of swimming and went off with their chaperones. Finally the last group prepared to leave and we found that a few students had left their stuff on the beach. I volunteered to stay with the stuff in case some of the groups returned for it. Instead, I sat there for about forty five minutes by myself before I got fed up, took the stuff with me, and left.

Back up on the boardwalk I asked the guy running a newsstand if I could have a larger bag to carry the students' stuff. He said he didn't have any, which I knew to be untrue because his stand was just like all the others, complete with some larger items for sale like soccer balls, and I'd seen the other newsstand guys bagging those. Well, this little, very old man started laying into the guy about not being nice enough to the tourists who support him. It was great. I still didn't get a bag from him, but it was nice to get some support from a local.

The heat was really oppressive, so I got a soda (Mountain Dew!) and took a break in the shade before heading back toward Las Ramblas, the main outdoor touristy market we'd already shopped the night before. I still had some items I wanted to find for people, but I decided to turn into the tiny alleys between the buildings to check out the Gothic quarter. The little shops tucked away inside were filled with much cooler merchandise and wonderful food, and I ended up wandering around in between the buildings for hours. I found some great gifts for Paige and Noah, bought the best Gyro I've ever had (here they call it a Pita Kabob), and sat in a plaza to eat. I realized I hadn't spoken any English to anyone in some four hours. I'd spoke quite a bit to everyone, and was feeling very comfortable with my Spanish, but in some ways I still felt like I'd taken a variation on a vow of silence: no native language. They say people who take vows of silence learn a lot about their own inner life. I learned that my inner life is quite concerned with just how beautiful the women of Barcelona are (married, not dead).

While eating my lunch I finally got a phone call from Miss Laister. she hadn't been feeling well, so she stayed back at the hotel and was finally ready to meet up with us. I found her at the end of Las Ramblas, by the statue of Cristobal Colon (Christopher Columbus, as we've anglicized his name), and she and I waited around for Mrs. Larson and her group there for a while. While we waited we ran into some of our students, including Anne Snell and Alyn Monscko, who had successfully used the subway to return to the hotel to clean up after their beach time and then come back. They were so proud of their accomplishment, and had obviously gained a great deal of confidence from it. Miss Laister and I explained that this was precisely the kind of learning we hoped students would experience during the trip.

Eventually Miss Laister and I got tired of waiting and headed into the Gothic Quarter, where we first found Mrs. Houser and Abby Watson, then Mrs. Larson and Tia Jones. We walked around with them for a while, and I got to help Mrs. Larson pick out a cool gift for her son, Brian. We found that haggling is particularly effective with a translator. I could say to the guy in Spanish, "Yeah, I understand that it's a good deal, but she's really only interested if it's x price." Then, when he said no, we started to leave and he called us back. Ultimately he shaved more than a third off the sticker price. Not too shabby.

We found Mr. Witt in the middle of Las Ramblas. Somehow, despite applying SPF 30sunscreen at least seven times, he'd backed in the sun down on the beach and had a nasty burn. Also, he'd lost his favorite pair of flip flops. We walked around Las Ramblas, getting more gifts for family and friends, and eventually went our seperate ways, planning to meet back at the hotel for dinner. Abby Watson, Mrs. Houser and I took some advice from Miss Laister and visited another markey where locals and tourists alike buy all kinds of fresh produce, fish, meats the likes of which I've never seen, and overwhelming assortments of candy. Then we decided to head back to the hotel, but, on the way, Mrs. Houser saw a dress she liked in another tiny shop in a thin alley. I was not helpful, encouraging her to buy it because she would kick herself if she didn't (sorry Glen). Abby Watson was remarkably patient with our last ditch shopping, and we got to talk quite a bit on the way back in the Subway. She's a really cool person.

Back at the hotel, after a quick shower and quicker dinner, we got ready to take kids back into the city for their big last night. As I mentioned yesterday, we'd already decided to keep our most adventurous kids up as late as possible to keep them out of trouble. Some wanted to go dancing, which sounded really fun to me (Paige doesn't like to go out dancing, so I never get to), but we found that the dance clubs in Barcelona are all in bars and generally aren't safe for kids. We knew it would disappoint them, but we decided to play it safe, so we took a large group down the Hard Rock Cafe.

Well, I just wrote the second half of this twice and had it lost both times, so I will have to finish when we get home after all. Grrr.