Plaça de Catalunya

 

 

La Plaça de Catalunya constituye unos de los ejes más importantes de la Ciudat Condal. La plaza ocupa 5 hectáreas y une el casco viejo de la ciudad con el Ensanche. En este espacio confluyen el Passeig de Gràcia, la Rambla de Catalunya, les Rambles y el Portal de l'Àngel, así como las Rondas de Universidad y de Sant Pere. Se considera un núcleo de comunicación urbana con estaciones de metro y tren y paradas de autobuses. También la plaza es rodeada por importantes comercios, cafeterías, entidades bancarias y monumentos culturales.

De forma de cuadrilátero irregular, la plaza destaca por un conjunto impresionante de arte público.  En la plaza, se encuentran repartidas importantes esculturas, como La diosa, de Josep Clarà, el Monumento a Macià, de Josep Maria Subirachs y Barcelona, de  Frederic Marès.  Hay también fuentes y cascadas ornamentales. Son notables las fuentes gemelas diseñadas por Espiau Seoane.

El detalle más sorprendente es la tranquilidad con que se acercan las palomas a los transeúntes y turistas. Siempre que visito la Plaça me gusta llevar un paquetito de pan para las palomas que habitan ese lugar tan espectacular.  Debes hacer lo mismo para disfrutar de este corazón urbano.

In transition

Ángel Sierra

I can´t bear to say adieu to Barcelona. It always is difficult to leave behind Catalunya and Spain. My returns to the EEUU are always slow and full of leaving taking. I delay the departure as much as I can.

A couple of nights ago while in Madrid, I met up with a scholar and fellow medievalist; we decided to have some copas and dinner to catch up with our research happenings and events. We started at the Taberna Ángel Sierra, a venerable establishment on the Plaza de Chueca, on the Calle de Gravina, 11. We sipped cool vermut and talked scholarly matters.

The taberna has an old Madrid feel and lacks the clean, ultra-modern decoration that seems to characterize a lots of places in Madrid and Barcelona. Dusty bottles line the walls, and there is a small dinning room behind the bar. Not el Bulli, but appetizing. One has to crawl under the bar to get there.

We did not stay for dinner at Sierra; rather we moved down the street and visited the Bodega de la Ardosa, Calle Colón, 13. Once more, we entered into a flashback to the old Madrid. Founded in 1892, this venerable spot has seen much history and many personalities. The vermut was stellar, and the feel of the place was comfy and human, scaled to a days without cell phones and frenetic media blitz. Imagine a bar where the voices of people did not need to compete with the digital music track or the loud commentary of sports journalists on a TV monitor.

Afterward, we headed toward the Plaza del 2 de Mayo to find pizza. On Calle de San Vicente Ferrer and Plaza del 2 de Mayo, we came upon an old haunt. An inviting place full of wonderful food and excellent ambiente: Mastropiero. My friend had not been there in 6 years, and we mentioned this fact to the señora, a jovial Argentina full of humor and cheer. She received us warmly and gave us a round of cañas and free dessert, consisting of chocolate cake, cheesecake, and a chocolate mousse. So heavenly. The pizza was also out of this world! We ordered a ham and anchovy half and a mushroom and cheese. Definitely I need to return with la noruega one of these days!

Café Ruiz

And the last stop was Café Ruiz (on Calle Ruiz, 12)! As traditional as you can get, in a towny part of Madrid. According to one web, "Café de los de antes, de los de tertulia, historias, y mesas camilla en los que se conspiraba, se arreglaba el mundo y se medía el grado de niebla del universo entero". We had some beers, chips, and talked about textualities and NEH projects for the future. So relaxing to sit and chat after a long day at the Nacional reading dusty books. We enjoyed it! And they had this antique cash register made by Krups! No digital age had penetrated the walls of this wonderful bar.

Enough marcha!

Falles en la Alta Ribagorça

There was a full moon that night. And we watched the pageant. Women, men, children, parading through the little town of Taüll. And they waited for the flaming torches to illuminate the small  Plaça de Santa María. 

An eerie light on the mountain. The smell of smoke and burnt wood began to fill the air, and we were huddled around this ancient square, all witnessing the baixada. 

In the background the band played a march-like tune, constantly repeating, pulsating, as we cheered and viewed with amazement the approaching spectacle. A group led by the fadri ran furiously toward the narrow streets. The embers floated throughout the square, pieces of flaming wood danced through the air in an unreal ballet of light. Someone  screamed in English "Avoid the embers", and whirling fire carriers ran around the small square.

Group on the Mountain

A baixada is a traditional Catalan, Summer-time celebration. These folks run down the mountain with falles de pal, enormous torches made of pine and ash. Tall, short, fat, old, men and women carry the torches and illuminate the night! They start at the top, and with their torches lighted the group files slowly down the steep slope toward the tiny town of Taüll, famous for its twelfth-century churches. Awesome sight!

There we where, all cheering and yelling encouragement. The whirling smoke is dizzying. The flames flickered as the torches rushed through the plaça. 

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more.