I spent the morning searching for a few things to take back with me. Went to what the travel guide billed as the best port wine shop in Portugal, a place called Napoleao. The clerk spoke perfect English. She told me that English is the second language of the Portuguese and French is the third. She also said something that I had to check out later which is that Portuguese is one of the most widely spoken languages in the world, rivaling Spanish and English. I’m surprised by that. I figured Portuguese to be a pretty niche language when you take Brazil out of the equation. But when you take into account Brazil and parts of Africa, she might be right. (Ed. note: checked this out. Portuguese is not the most widely spoken Romance language; that would be Spanish with 358MM speakers. Portuguese is a respectable 3rd with 150MM speakers [figures per wikipedia, natch].) She said Lisbon is a very simple place. They have many of the prestige stores that signal to a traveler that he is in a world-class city like Rolex, D&G, Hermes and Old Navy, but she claimed the locals don’t patronize them. She also told me there were a lot of Brazilians in Portugal who come on holiday and outstay their visas in order to find work and stay on a more permanent basis. She didn’t sound too pleased about this. Another tidbit she shared was that they don’t re-dub movies into Portuguese, so they get exposed to English from a very young age. As I said her English was almost flawless.
The trip to the airport was relatively uneventful save for the fact that I had to dash back to the check-in counter when I realized you can’t store alcohol in your carry-on. Damn you, Al Qaeda. I loved the fact that I could book an inexpensive flight to the other side of the Iberian peninsula for a relative pittance. Compare that to the states where a last minute flight will cost you at least one vital organ. I’ve never understood that.
Barcelona was not what I expected. I don’t know what I expected though. Maybe skyscrapers with flamenco dancers out front. I’m not sure exactly. On the cab ride into the city (I tried to figure out what bus would deposit me at the Metro, but I got frustrated and just said eff it, I’ll take a cab.), I was a bit surprised to see very few high-rise complexes.
Not only was the dread absent-street sign problem an issue again, but in Barcelona all the streets come to octagonal intersections. I’m not sure if this has any utilitarian benefit. Increased parking capacity wouldn’t be right, because you’re just truncating useable street real estate. Does make for an interesting quirk though.
After settling into the hotel, I looked up a few restaurant options for dinner. I settled on Paco Meralgo, a tapas bar that had gotten high-marks from a few sites. The place was fairly busy, but my waiter tried to be as attentive as he could. Although his English was spotty, we understood each other enough so that he could recommend some dishes according to my tastes. I had a cod salad prepared with finely diced tomatoes. He told me it was very representative of traditional Catalonian cuisine. I also had an assortment of sausages which was hit and miss. I’m more a fan of the pancetta if I have to eat pork. I also had an amazing lightly seared tuna filet with soy sauce that I shouldn’t have eaten. Only bottom-feeders from here on out.
