Taking a trip abroad in the middle of a university term was something I hadn’t done in my first two years at Durham. The second term of the academic year is always the busiest and sneaking away for a few days may appear to be a slightly sinful thing to do. I was hesitant at first, wondering if my academic progress would be affected. Between getting a first (not that I’m actually on course for one) and watching Lionel Messi – arguably the greatest footballer around – play live, however, the choice was an easy one to make. Spain has also been a country I’ve always wanted to visit – I acknowledge that some may not consider Barcelona to be Spain – and I’d only heard rave reviews about the Catalan capital. Tim and I managed to secure a Groupon deal which included a two-night stay in a small hotel near Park Güell and a Barcelona F.C. match, although we decided to extend our sojourn by a night, electing to move to a hostel near to Las Ramblas. Being afforded such few days to visit Barcelona, I was thankful to receive recommendations and helpful advice from my History classmate, Robbie, who spent a year abroad in the city.
Being a student of History, I’ve always found that some
knowledge of a place’s past does wonders to heighten one’s appreciation of it. Having
known little about modern Spanish history, I prepared for the trip by watching
documentaries on the Spanish Civil War and by reading George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia, an autobiographical
account of Orwell’s participation in the conflict. Being more comfortable with
modern political history made me decide to focus on the Spanish Civil War, a
much, much more complex affair than I had previously conceived of it to be, and
the impressions I had gained about it from school needed revision.
Barcelona-Getafe
My former housemate, Laura, went for this fixture last
season which saw the Catalan giants thrash Getafe 4-0. In all honesty, as much
as I’ve a soft spot for Barςa and want them to continue running away with the
La Liga title (the late Sir Bobby Robson managed them for a season in the late
1990s), I was hoping that Barcelona-Getafe would be a more competitive
encounter this time round. A middle-aged, bearded man alerted us to the metro
stop just as we were going to alight one stop later and he kindly walked with
us to the Nou Camp. He had been a regular at games for many years and helpfully
explained the curious timing (12 noon) of the fixture. He informed us that the
games were usually in the evenings but that Barςa-Getafe was pushed to noon to
allow young children to attend the match.
The Nou Camp’s capacity almost reaches 100,000 and we faced
slight difficulties locating our gate and seats. We were seated in the lowest
tier, about 16-20 rows behind the goal, probably the worst seats I’ve had for a
football match. Spectators in front of us had a habit of standing up whenever
the ball was near the penalty box and although Barςa scored two goals, courtesy
of Alexis and Messi, in the first half, I only managed to see half of the
first, and was completely blocked from the second. The lack of elevation of the
rows behind the goal and my lack of height frustrated my enjoyment of the first
half. The second half, which saw five goals scored, was more edifying. At least
we got to see all five goals in clear view (no one stood up when Getafe nicked
a consolation) and it was nice to see all the goals scored by different
individuals.
Although the Barςa game played a large part in compelling me
to visit the Catalonian capital, I’ve to admit that the experience was slightly
underwhelming. Perhaps, it had to do with the fixture itself, but the
atmosphere was subdued for most part and the number of tourists (Tim and I
included) in the Nou Camp didn’t help. In fact, we were surrounded by fellow Groupon-ers from England! It was nonetheless a pleasure and a privilege
to be able to watch a master-class performance by Iniesta but the fact that I didn’t
get to see Messi’s goal still irks me today. What am I going to tell my
grandchildren?
A Series of
Unfortunate Events
Lady Luck proved elusive during our short stay and our trip
began on a unfortunate note as we confused our hotel’s address and had to walk (on
an upward slope) for 20 minutes before we reached our accommodation near Park
Guell.
The cable car and funicular to Montjuic were both under maintenance
while we were there and we had to resort to taking a bus up the ‘Jewish
Mountain.’
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| The Castle on Montjuic |
The Magic Fountain was also, to our horror, under
maintenance and we missed the chance to see it while Freddie Mercury/Montserrat
Caballe’s rendition of ‘Barcelona’ played in the background.
I almost got a heart-attack when we checked into our hostel at
10 p.m. (for a third night) only to realise that we’d gotten the booking
totally wrong. We had booked the hostel for March and not February and were
informed that the hostel was fully-booked for that evening. The thought of
having to look for another hostel so late at night, dragging our bags along the
streets of Barcelona, made my heart sink into temporary despair. Fortunately, a
less popular hostel situated two doors away had vacancies.
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| At Bar Tomas - reputed to be the best place for patatas bravas |
It could’ve been worse – we could have been mugged while in
Raval or pickpocketed along the Ramblas. In fact, our series of unfortunate
events may have made the trip a more memorable one.
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| Feeding birds at Park Guell |
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| On the roof of the La Pedrera |
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| The Sagrada Familia |
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