Monalia's World

When we first moved to Barcelona in November 2006 I did not have a blog going, but I did write many memorable experiences and documented our early feelings as we began to integrate. The next few blogs will be from my early writings, from when we first moved here and began our quest to buy a place to live in. Although this story doesn’t have accompanying photos, subsequent blogs will:

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December, 2006

We have made plans to see a 270,000 euro place in Poble Sec which sounds intriguing and suspiciously cheap for 90 square meters on a rambla. The ad claims the place has a store front, an upstairs living space and a garden patio interior. It sounds great. We’ve never been to Poble Sec, so we’re a bit curious.

We find the neighborhood. Poble Sec has some great looking buildings, so our hopes rise. There are cool looking restaurants and shops on the little rambla. We meet up with the realtor and walk to the property.

At first glance it looks like a butcher’s shop, except it has a big picture hanging over the front of the shop of a penguin sliding down some ice. We enter to find two frozen food display freezers on either side of a long foyer area. The only conclusion we can come to is that the previous owners had been selling frozen penguin meat and promptly went out of business. I am aghast! I can feel a big pit forming in my stomach. This is not to be our dream piso, this is obvious. Just behind the frozen penguin meat “foyer” is “The Kitchen”. “The Kitchen” is an electric hot plate sitting on a chair in a room the size of a small closet. Beyond the frozen penguin meat “foyer” and the “The Kitchen” is the “living area”, which is just a big room. Calling it a room would be exaggerating though, it is simply an area that happens to be surrounded by four walls and has a ceiling. There is a small, dark, dank, stinky bathroom somewhere off the “living area”.

“OK Then. What about the garden/ patio?” I say, trying not to show my disappointment.

“Oh, this way.”

Out to “The Patio” we go. It reminds me of the Hanoi Hilton American POW camp in North Vietnam, where US soldiers were tortured alongside the Vietnamese prisoners. I share this image with Mark and he replies,

“Yes, I can see that. What I was thinking is more Charles Dickens, a dark and scary tale from Oliver Twist.”

“The Patio” is dark because being on the ground floor, buildings and structures tower up around it. Dripping pipes and laundry lines block out any sunlight that might be passing by. There are strange platforms jutting out from some of the buildings that seem to suggest gallows, We laugh nervously, as we could easily imagine having our morning coffee with bodies dangling from the end of a noose above us.

“Right, so there is a second story?” “Yes, step this way”

We walk back into “living area” and the realtor points to not stairs, but a shaky ladder that someone has banged together with some scrap wood. Mark ventures up the ladder first to make sure it will hold the weight of a human. He climbs up into “The Upstairs,” where he can’t stand up straight because its not meant for someone 6 foot two. In “The Upstairs” we find old bedding and dirty clothes strewn about. No windows, just a dark box with a hole in the floor to escape from. Mark says,

“I built better looking forts in vacant lots when I was 12 years old”.

I turn to the realtor, “Vale, gracias mucho, pero demaciado trabajo”, this was more than a fixer upper. For us ‘Casa de Penguin Butcher’ would need a bit too much work.

So we continue with our search for a home, trying not to become disheartened. The image of the Casa de Penguins sends us from hysterical laughter to despair. Just remembering Mark trying to stand up in “The Upstairs,”with his head tilted and his shoulders stooped makes me guffaw. But then I get depressed. But only for a short while. I am so in love with Barcelona. We shall find a home.

Self Portrait at my favorite spot in Ciutadella Park

You can see my bike in the first shot, taken from my favorite corner of Ciutadella Park

I was preparing a multi-media post mid March called “A Day in the life of Monalia” which was meant to depict one perfect day in which I went out with my tek bag, on my bike, documenting the beauty of early spring in Barcelona. But then, first my NAGRA audio recorder started giving me problems (in the shop in Madrid as I write this) so all my recordings were crackly, then I found myself buying a puppy on March 20th (first day of spring) and now, puppy underfoot, I’m leading a quieter life, training the puppy, uploading loops to Musicloops.com

So you can look forward to a future blog with the title “A day in the Life of Monalia”, and meanwhile here are some photos taken this month.

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The next photos, of Tossa Del Mar, are worthy of some narrative:

Tossa del Mar

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The first time Mark and I came to Barcelona, 15 years ago, our friend Rolando and his wife Sandra took us on a 1 hour car drive to a beach with the ruins of a castle or church (the memory fuzzy) on the cliffs overlooking an otherwise sandy beach. It was spring-like weather then as well. Mark, who I was not married to yet and who was in those days working at a warehouse in the San Fernando Valley by day, playing heavy metal speed guitar by night, had bought us round trip tickets for my birthday. I was already obsessed with wanting to move to Barcelona and he was curious what it was all about.

Amazingly, for Mark Barcelona was also love at first sight. We recorded sounds, took photos, videos, traipsed around with Rolando who made himself available to us. And we went to Tossa del Mar. Only until this week, we didn’t know the name of the beach he had taken us to, nor where it was. It sat for 15 years like a frozen memory – I had memorized the small town itself, the beach, had climbed all around the ruins and shared some “chocolate” with Rolo inside what I remember to be the ruins of a church or monastery. I remember climbing to the top and all around the cliffs and the village in the back, I remember having a drink at a cliffside cafe, I remember a fair going on with kids, a tent, music. I remember Sandra’s brother or friend meeting us there, and walking around the town to different galleries.

The café we stopped at 15 years ago is still there, only it is closed right now.

When we moved here I asked Rolando what beach he had taken us to 15 years go and he became confused. He had no memory at all of taking us there, and he also didn’t remember taking us to another beach called “Toxic Beach” which still remains a mystery to us.

Anyway, 2 weeks ago (before my puppy) Our new friends from the neighborhood, Sara and Ricardo,
(who I have written about in the Viladrau blog) invited us plus big dog Haka to Tossa del Mar, a lovely beach with fun restaurants and a great beach for the dogs. Of course we agreed, and as soon as we arrived there and parked the car it all came back.

“This is the place Rolo took us to 15 years ago Mark!” I exclaimed, and proceeded to the head of the pack because I knew the way to the beach. I love it when that happens – suddenly I went from thinking “where are we?'” to “Hey – I know this town”
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Mark remembered the place too, but in not so much detail as I. We climbed to the top. The following photos are all dejà vu – we’ve finally connected the dots, did the same walk with Sara, Ricardo and dogs only now the area Rolo and I hung out is now cordoned off and there is a sign saying the site is under restoration.

The right 2 thumbnails are of the spot where Rolo and I hung out 15 years ago.

In the last thumbnail shot above Mark is laying on the beach, dog between his legs, iPhone in his palm on his lap…
An interesting anecdote is that much of the 1958 film The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad was filmed on the beach of Tossa del Mar.

Breed: Miniature Pinscher
Name: Quixote (pronounced Keeshote, or Quiche-óte)
Born Jan. 7, 2009
Came into my home the first day of Spring, 2009.

He is my tiny knight in shining armor, Don Quixote (only pronounced ala Catalan, Keeshote)

He has the same blue eyes as a pup my last dog (Pukka) had as a pup. He’s pinto sized – is perfect for Barcelona smaller space living, will fit easily in my bicycle basket.

So far he sleeps a lot, is not whiner but is silly and playful (like a kitten) when awake.

This is my first small breed dog. I’ve had 3 Dobermans in my dog history, and am delighted to find my mini is of the same intelligence.

This is Mark’s dog, Haka. She is very BIG and very dumb. She’s a sweet, loveable, gentle giant, a Dogue de Bordeaux. She was meant to be the alpha dog in this situation, but instead Quixote is already stealing her bones and toys from her. We are lucky she has a good disposition.
They are the new Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, they are Pinky and the Brain (cartoon).

Quixote will always be small-
You can look forward to future blogs about life with my new compañero Quixote. He will always be small enough to fit in my bicycle basket, to fit in my backpack, to easily take onto buses, metros, taxis, trains, planes, most public places.