Lost In The Cerulean Glow Yet Again

I don't know how long the creators of Glee can keep this up, and I really don't care. All I know is that this show has become irresistible to me in the same way Mad Men and The Wire did.

The conceit of the show, a high school dramedy interspersed with musical numbers, seems a bit cheesy on paper, but the execution is almost flawless. The surprise is that it never feels like a gimmick. The writers of this show deserve a ridiculous amount of props for the deft incorporation of show-tunes, standards and pop music.

The characters are well-written and avoid the stock characterizations of so many high school-themed shows. The humor doesn't feel forced and doesn't demean the characters. It ranges from subtle to lol-funny. It reminds me a lot of...Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's one of those shows that just seems to "get" high school. All the angst, the pressure, the obliviousness, the solipsism...it's all there.

Did I mention Jane Lynch? You should watch the show for her alone. It's criminal that this woman isn't more widely recognized. From her work in Christopher Guest's films to Judd Apatow movies, she kills, every time.


In short, this show will own your @$$ for 43 minutes each week less commercials and you will enjoy every second.

Day Eight: All Good Things...

Puerta del Sol in the morning

My last afternoon in Madrid, I checked out the Royal Palace and a few other sights in the area. I tried to get my train ticket situation straightened out to no avail. It will have to wait until I’m stateside. So far that's been the only thing that didn't go according to plan and ironically it's the one thing I actually tried to plan in advance. See how that works?

The Royal Palace and the adjacent Almudena Cathedral are definitely worth checking out. I'm a bit cathedral-ed out at this point, but you know. The palace is maybe the length of two football fields and as regal as one would expect a palace to be. It's actually quite an elegant structure. Perhaps one of the nicest I've seen in Spain. I would take a tour sometime, but I'm a bit pressed for time as it stands. Gives me something to look forward to next time. Adios, Espana!

The Royal Palace as seen from the Opera House

The Invisible Man chillaxing

Almudena Cathedral, only completed in 1993

A view of the courtyard

A view of the Royal Palace

Other observations about Europe:
Spain is in a deep recession with unemployment in the high double digits, but it’s hard to gather from the places I visited. The people didn’t seem subdued and businesses seemed to be thriving with activity. Obviously my observations were limited from both a time and scope perspective. I’d be interested to know more about why the Spanish economy in particular is faltering so. Did they have a similar issue with real estate? A housing bubble? I'm sure it's also related to the interconnectivity of the EU's economy as a whole.

I saw this one kid on the train who I figure had to be from New York. His steez was just too NYC. He had the baggy jeans sagging so that the backside looked like he was wearing denim parachute pants and he had on a baseball cap with the brim flexed so straight that you could balance a tea cup on it. Do they do that anywhere outside of NYC? Did he just pick that up from watching music videos? I can only speculate. Still made me think how important a development it was to be able to transmit video and audio signals almost anywhere in the world. Physical boundaries really don't mean much, do they?

It's been Real, Spain.

Day Seven: Barcelona Finale/Madrid Redux

Gaudi's Parc Guell

I wanted to get in a few more “must-sees” before I left, so I checked out Parc Guell. As with many other attractions, I attempted to hoof it. The sign off the Metro points you in the general direction and then it gets a bit dicey. I almost gave up trying to find the place as the signs for motorists that seemed to guide towards the park had me going in circles. Eventually I just broke out the map and figured it out myself. Again, I probably could have just asked somebody, but that would have made too much sense. Still, doing it on my own felt like a minor achievement.



The park seems quite popular with tourists and locals alike. Seems like a nice place to go jogging. The sandy plateau offers expansive views of the city below. Lots of interesting structures including a couple of unused homes Gaudi designed. I could have spent an entire afternoon just lounging at the park. The weather was absolutely perfect. I'm not one usually swayed by how temperate the climate is in a particular locale, but I could get used to this.


Also made my way for a tour of Casa Batlo. Not only did Barcelona produce the greatest artist in the history of Creation, but also its greatest architect (excluding of course the Divine Architect, which Gaudi himself would have been first to concede). It’s a nice house. But seriously, I wonder why the modern architecture of today is so boring. Where are the disciples of Gaudi? How come his stuff didn’t catch on? Too impractical? Costly?

Gaudi's Casa Batllo during the day

Then it was back to catch the rail to Madrid for the final leg of my trip.

Back in Madrid I made my way to the Reina Sofia which meant I would end up seeing two of the trinity (the missing museum being the Thyssen-Bornemisza which contains a few works by Caravaggio and Dali). The Reina Sofia is most famous for housing Guernica, often considered Picasso’s greatest work. I have seen pictures of it before, but seeing it at actual scale is an entirely different experience. I couldn’t fill a Post-It with what I know about Guernica. In fact you could sum it up in one line: “Picasso’s Guernica has something to do with the Spanish Civil War…or something.” Now this might be accurate, but it also masks an even greater ignorance; namely, I know absolutely nothing about the Spanish Civil War. Wait, actually I could offer a bit of a tidbit: “Franco?” See, that’s not even affirmative. It’s a timid response and frankly all I’m capable of even somewhat committing to. Here’s a question that I can’t answer that kind of nags: If I’d not been told that Guernica was (arguably) the most important piece of artwork of the 20th century, what would I think of it? See, I can’t answer that and it annoys me. You can’t put your finger on the scale that way by declaring such things, because then I feel sort of forced into one opinion or another. It’s kind of like when a friend gives you music from his favorite group and then asks, “So these guys are the best ever right?” What do you say to that?


I will say that I circled back to Guernica maybe three or four times, each time scanning it for longer periods of time. But was I continually absorbing it because I wanted to feel I was giving the right amount of time its advertised greatness deserved or did I really think it was great? I'm leaning towards the latter.

The rest of the evening became a search for a reasonably priced dinner. I found a spot that was offering a three-course meal for 8.50 euros, so I took a chance. Wasn’t half-bad. Although the paella mixta had one scrawny prawn in it and a tiny mussel, plus something that resembled a neck bone or a tail bone of some indeterminate animal. The second course was serviceable and the dessert, a chocolate sponge cake was actually quite good. All-in-all, not bad for the price.

On my way back to the hotel, I stumbled across a small red light district. I kept seeing all these women dressed in mico-mini skirts, legs balanced atop five-inch stilettos and black leather jackets opened to reveal bustieres. I thought for a moment, "Wow, Spanish women are really fashion-forward..." then I realized what was going on. It was funny that this was just five minutes from the main tourist drag, Puerta del Sol, but I guess that makes sense.

Get HBO on the line. Got an idea for a show...

I felt bad that Madrid had gotten somewhat short-shrift in my visit to the Iberian peninsula, but I still got to see quite a bit and in the morning I would round it out with a trip to the Royal Palace. Also, it's not as if it's going anywhere. I plan on returning, armed with a decent vocabulary...or a translator.

Day Six: Barcelona Day 2

La Sagrada Familia, scheduled completion date: 2026. 2026!!! WTF?!?

Tried to take in as much of the city as I could today. Started off at the attraction closest to the hotel, the Sagrada Familia. If I’d have known I was going to pay $11 euros to see a half-finished cathedral, I might have had second thoughts. No offense, but you actually charge for this? Kidding!--halfway. It’s more interesting to read the history of the place. Gaudi with whom I only had a passing familiarity prior to this trip was apparently completely devoted to finishing the cathedral to the point of monomania. The story is equally harrowing, noble and pathetic. Once I get past the technical proficiency of the structure, I’m left a bit cold. I think it’s the Catholic iconography that tends to bore me. I get irritated at the self-aggrandizement passing as sanctity. There is something galling about walking into an already opulent church steeped in decadence and seeing a kiosk asking you to donate money in order to help finance more gilded altars. Besides that, I think I prefer the clean lines and uncluttered facades of secular monuments. Give me the Guggenheim (any one of them) over this kind of structure any day.

The view from inside

The next hour I spent looking for the Museo de Picasso. I’ve poured over books of his works many times, but I believe I’ve only seen a few of his actual paintings. There may have been an exhibit at the MoMa years ago. I ended up overshooting the mark and found myself in the marina. I took the opportunity to take in the aquarium. The largest tank with the sharks and this huge sun fish was worth the price of admission ($17 euros…yikes). Took a snapshot of a really old submarine. Kept thinking of the Ringo-led Beatles song for about the next hour.

"We all live in a..."

Sun fish...one ugly mutha

Finally stumbled upon the museum I was looking for. The output of some artists is just overwhelming. I wonder how many pieces Picasso created. It must number well into the thousands if you include every doodle, every sketch. I need to pick up a very good biography of the man.
I finally got to see the oft-mentioned “Blue Period” of the greatest artist that ever bestrode God’s green (as per the museum's hagiography scattered throughout never lets you forget). The gallery ends right at the cusp of his emergence as a Cubist master and the works and style so many people associate with Picasso. His early stuff was quite good. I don’t know how it’s considered in the art world today, but I especially like the use of color in his portraiture. He really seemed to capture his subjects’ moods.

From there I wandered around until I found yet another cathedral (I don’t even want to imagine what Italy must be like). This happened to be near the central shopping district. Took in a few of those sights and inadvertently snapped a few pics of a few well-known Gaudi buildings. They were pretty hard to ignore. Something struck me while walking through the area: American cities with a few notable exceptions (New Orleans and D.C. come to mind) are aesthetically dull things. Even New York, the greatest city mankind has ever conceived (if for the ingeniously simple use of a numbered grid with prominent street signs alone!), is frankly an ugly place compared to any of the cities I’ve seen on this trip. One of the best things NYC has to offer, Central Park, while invaluable from a utilitarian point of view, just isn’t all that visually arresting.

Gaudi's Casa Batllo

After a brief repose at the hotel, I headed back out to La Rambla and walked all the way down to the pier. I got a free pass to what was billed as a “New York Style”-party at a local nightclub. How could I resist? I wanted to see what exactly the party people of Barcelona thought New York-style was. Turns out to be pretty New York. Well a certain kind of New York actually. You had the same burly door guys deciding who could get in and when. Bottle service was de rigueur if you wanted priority. The music was pretty much what you’d hear in any club in NYC on a Saturday night. Lots of hip-hop, then a bit of house later on. People dance the same in Europe; no real surprise there. Most doing the same awkward two-step many casual partygoers favor. I had to leave after about 45 minutes because the smoke was just too much. Even before the smoking ban in NYC, the pervasiveness of smoking wasn’t that high in clubs. Nowhere like here where everybody seemed to light up, especially the women. Maybe that's how they stay so thin. That and the high-cost of eating.

Day Cinco: Lisbon/Barcelona, Days 3/1

View from my hotel

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.

Rossio in the morning

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.

Adeus to all 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.

View from the Barcelo Sants Hotel located conveniently above the train and Metro station

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.

Interior of the Paco Meralgo

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.

Day 4: Portugal Pt. Dois

Se, oldest church in Lisbon

I was out early and decided to trek up to Castelo de Sao Jorge. It resides up in the hills and the structure is visible from almost anywhere in the city. On the way up, I encountered the cathedral, Se. It’s the oldest church in Lisboa, constructed in the early 12th century. Service was in session when I entered. Good to see they were still getting use out of the place. The vaulted ceilings were a good four stories high, maybe more. The place felt absolutely cavernous inside.


I continued on up the hill towards the castle. The neighborhood was very full of interesting architectural details. Almost every apartment had some kind of distinct tile work. There wasn’t a modern building in sight. That’s not a criticism. The castle itself felt more like a fort. It wasn’t small, but there really wasn’t an inside to explore. You could just wander the courtyard and along the walls. The views were expansive, allowing you to take in almost the entire city all the way down to the shore.




The next destination, Igreja da Madre de Deus, was about a mile and a half from the castle. I figured I’d walk the doggies. I find the best way to really learn a place is to walk it. There was no subway stop that would have gotten me closer which was fine. I wanted to actually see as much of the country as possible. The weather was growing increasingly ominous with gray clouds rolling on the horizon. I hoped it wouldn’t be too bad since the weather had been fairly mild up until then.


I wish the guidebook had been more clear on the fact that the church was connected to the Museu Nacional do Azulejo. I walked past the place like three times. The museum didn’t sound too enticing as it is the National Tile Museum. A museum dedicated to the subject makes sense considering how integral tile-making is in Portuguese architecture. I finally figured out the museum’s relationship to the church after a frustrating detour through what looked like a rougher section of town. The tile museum turned out to be interesting in its own right. There are still artists who utilize the medium which I'd never really thought about before. Still the main attraction was the church with its elaborately gilded walls and altars. The decor makes the tastes of an Arab oil sheik seem restrained in contrast.




Rain began to fall steadily by the time I finished exploring the church. I would have ventured out to another well-known site, Mosteiro dos Jeronimos, but visibility had diminished greatly and the light was far from ideal for picture taking. So instead I let things subside and headed over to Bairra Alto again to find dinner. This time wandering up a narrow back alley. An older Portuguese woman, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, smoking a cigarette motioned for me to come inside her restaurant. “Real Portuguese food, right here. Come in.” I’m always a sucker for salesmanship. Don't make me feel like you're doing me a favor allowing me to eat in your establishment. First rule of any good restauranteur, I believe.


The place was quaint. Felt like a place the locals actually ate at. I had a skewer of cuttlefish, octopus and shrimp. It was excellent. I can’t remember when I last had cuttlefish. It’s not a common dish on the NY restaurant scene, at least I don’t think so. It seemed like something very authentic. Plus I felt good to be eating responsibly. Nothing endangered on my plate.

The rain continued unabated so I retired back to the hotel. Felt like I got a lot out of the day.

It Just Feels So Wrong

There are some really good ideas that we should steal immediately from the Europeans. For instance, many countries in the EU have adopted credit card pin numbers. I've wondered for years why the credit card companies back home don't require this. Wouldn't that cut down on fraud like 90% overnight? I imagine they fear push-back from the merchants since it would require new machinery, but wouldn't it even be worth it to just subsidize it for them? Seems like a no-brainer, no?

One thing I find a bit baffling here though is that when you pay by credit card, there is no line for a tip. You have to pay that by cash. I wonder if that is also to squelch any possibility of fraud. Seems a bit much and can be a hassle at times. I like to conserve cash for things that invariably require it like taxis and cafes.

Last night I ate at a wonderful tapas place I got a heads-up on via the internets. It was called Paco Meralgo, located about a mile from my hotel. I managed to navigate the streets okay, despite the infamous tiny placards the Euros are so fond of. The waitstaff was courteous and accommodating and the food was great, so of course I wanted to leave a tip. Unfortunately, there was no place on the receipt for one and I was fresh out of cash. I kept trying to tell the waiter who'd assisted me that I'd be back once I found an ATM. He assured me it was no issue. I was persistent and left to hunt down a machine. On my way, I came across a loose ten-dollar euro note on the ground. I beamed at my good fortune and scooped it up. I returned to the restaurant and triumphantly slapped it down on the counter. The guy laughed a bit and shook my hand. I think he thought I was a bit nuts.

I'll have to do some research as to why tipping is viewed with such seeming indifference over here. Are waiters paid more? Obviously they don't work off tips, but what's the trade-off? An inquiring mind wants to know...