Five hours in Barcelona

11:00am - First, chuck all the suitcases into storage right by Placa Catalunya, in a cool little spot called Locker Barcelona. Between 5 and 8 Euros, your bags are stored in a safe, clean place for the day.

12:00pm - A metro and a monstrous uphill walk, aided by several escalators near the top, takes you to Park Guell. It was designed by Antoni Gaudi, whose name is synonymous with Barcelona, between 1900 and 1914. If you've ever seen of photos of Barcelona, you've seen Gaudi's work.

Perv behind me taking the dreaded - and rare - "upshort" photo

The buildings and public sitting areas are covered with hundred of thousands of coloured tiles, basically a huge mosaic.

Once you do make it to the park, you're rewarded with the coolest bench you'll ever sit on, and massive views of the city.

2:00pm - Next, via metro to the Sagrada Familia stop (Barcelona, like Paris, makes it dead easy to get around and see the sights in no time at all), to the church of the same name that also happens to be a Gaudi design.

Despite all the cranes (it's expected to be completed in 2026, the centennial of Gaudi's death), your jaw drops when you see this place. The intricacy of the sculpture work and the sheer scale of the place is amazing. Yes, it does feel somewhat douchey to say "intricacy of the sculpture work", but I am out of descriptive juice at the moment.

What a building. No time to go inside... next time!

2:30pm - Then it's off to lunch at a renowned tapas spot called Tossa - a place made all the more convincing by being A) off the eaten path and B) packed with locals. We received slow, kinda bumbling service that seemed as though they hadn't seen an English-speaking tourist before, but the food made up for it.

With very little time until bus time to the airport, a metro trip to the neighbourhood known as El Born to quickly check out some cool shops was in order. I've been here before, but only at night and in the bars. With a renewed sense of wonder, I felt El Born Again. Wow - a long way to go for a lame one. Sorry.

It's here that you'll find great stuff for men and women that isn't found in every other major tourist center. I bought some boots, which are somewhat out of character. This, as you might have guessed, provided me with something of a new El Born Identity. Again, sorry.

4:00pm - Then, it's back to Locker Barcelona, hauling out the bags, hustling around the corner, hopping on the Aerobus (there's no reason to ever take a cab to the airport; the Aerobus leaves every 10 minutes, it's air-conditioned, and there's tons of room for your baggage) for a mere 5.30Euros, and half an hour later a smooth check-in at Barcelona's airport and a two-hour flight to Amsterdam.

Mas Costa

It's pretty sad to read the figures regarding Spain's job situation and economy in general. The official jobless rate is 21% - even a few points higher when the unregistered unemployed are factored in. 46% of people under 25 who aren't in school are also not working.

When you walk the streets of Barcelona, you get the impression that these numbers are overblown - traffic is busy, pedestrian intersections are crammed with business people and tourists, and the cafes are pretty full. You can feel the pain of the retailers though, and some shop windows are completely empty. And as soon as you hit the smaller towns, you really feel it - anything outside an urban center feels a little too quiet, a little too run down.

So here is one man's plea to get your asentaderas over to Spain an inject some money into the economy. I've only scratched the surface of the entire country - Barcelona several times, Malaga and Benalmadena, and now part of the Costa Brava - and highly recommend it to anyone.

The pace of life (at first a little maddening to the rushing North American/North European, but you get used to it real quick), the weather, the mix of nature and city life, of commerce and cultural pursuits... it all just makes sense, as though this is how we're supposed to live.

Why it's broken down right now is something an economist can explain better than I can - part global crisis for sure, and some might suggest the lifestyle is too relaxed - but I imagine some tourist dollars couldn't hurt.

Crema Catalana

No, not me. Not my mom either

Sights like this abound all along the Costa Brava, on trails between beaches and small towns

Rent a shed on Platja Sant Pol

Sunday traffic in the bay

A neighbouring town, Sant Feliu de Guixols - a very large port town, and one gets the sense it had a much more prosperous past

Costa Brava

Spain will give you whiplash. It is a country that leaves you simultaneously shaking, turning, and scratching your head.

You shake it in awe, as in I-can't-believe-they-make-places-this-nice, with the food, warm people, and jaw-dropping views on every corner.

You turn it on the streets and beaches, as caramel-coloured beautiful people (of both sexes) pass by you every 20 steps or so.

And you scratch it, as you wonder how the country can't seem to make it work and seems to be permanently on the verge of collapse economically, despite a booming tourist trade, world-class cities in Barcelona and Madrid, and all the aforementioned natural assets. I think everyone is simply too distracted to work. I would be too.

It is with this whiplash that I write this post, fresh off a week of business in Barcelona followed by chilling on the Costa Brava.

A 90-minute, 14.30Euro bus ride from Barcelona's Estacio Nord to the village of S'Agaro and its beach, Platja Sant Pol, brings you to the beginning of the area known as the Costa Brava. It's an amazing area.

With dozens of beaches lining the coast, you can walk along the coast for hours, from beach to beach, on a mix of clean-cut paths and more rustic trails lined by huge villas and simple brush and pine trees. (Smelling pine trees along a massive stretch of sea was a particular highlight - normally, pine for a Canadian means forests and a winter coat).

I normally feel compelled to share some great insight in these posts - in this case, the only wisdom to be gleaned is: go to the Costa Brava.

More to come in the next few days.

Fun With Signs

Seen in: Malaga

For the skeptical shopper

Cultura

Malaga has over 3000 years of rich cultural heritage, and was founded in 770 B.C. by the Phoenicians and incorporated in 1487 by the King of Spain. (Nerds, don't e-mail me with corrections - this stuff is from the International Development office of the Ayuntamiento de Malaga).

It is the birthplace of Pablo Picasso. It is home to 25 museums and art galleries, including the Picasso Museum. It is applying for the prestigious cultural capital of Europe award in 2016, la candidata a capital europea de la cultura.

It has a massive cathedral built between 1582 and 1728 (seen below). It is a gateway to such historic places as Granada and Nerja.

And I swear I'll check it all out next time.

The beaches, restaurants, and nightlife all conspired to keep me saying "manana, manana" to my best-laid plans to enrich myself culturally.

I did manage to get some more photos though.

Mas Malaga

S'up, playa? Why are you so compelling to so many of us? There most be more to it than simple sun and water and scenery.

I figure beaches hold their immense appeal not only for their many forms of toplessness but also their inclusiveness.

In a world that often creates divisions and barriers, the beach endures. They speak to the socialist in all of us. No matter how crowded it is, you can always find your little spot of real estate, often no bigger than a towel.

There's room for everyone, from opposite ends of every spectrum - rich and poor, old and young, families and singles, tanned and British.

Malaga has a number of them - El Palo and Pedregalego for the locals and language students, Malagueta and Misericordia for locals and tourists, and more on either side of the coast.

These are not the white lush beaches of travel brochures, but they definitely do the trick. The water is stunning, you can walk for miles as the small waves roll in at your feet, and a wide promenade dotted with inexpensive restaurants, cafes, ice cream shops and free outdoor exercise spots lines each one.

More images below from another great week in Malaga, particularly as Amsterdam went a little retro with wet wintry weather today.

One of the many exercise spots along the Malaga coast

This terrace, this view? A measly 650 Euro per month

At one of Pedregalego's many cafes

The breakfast menu at La Cabana in Pedregalego

Antonio Banderas is omnipresent, here watching over the beach near Misericordia.

Because Misericordia loves company.

La Segunda Vez

The first time, it can be a little awkward. Even though you've done it before, well, this particular one is brand new. You don't know your way around too well, although there are very likely some great moments, magical even.

But you don't know the terrain. There may even be some unexpected and unwelcome hairy situations, particularly if you're outside of North America. You're also likely to find a few hot spots, although a happy ending is not entirely assured. You could fake it, but for some this is easier than others.

The SECOND time, however, ahhh. This is where you hit your groove. You know the right places, the hidden gems - shortcuts even, if you're pressed for time.

You feel more confident in communicating your needs and preferences. Emboldened, you might even explore a little further, assured that you can always quickly go back to the more familiar locations if needed.

I'm speaking, of course, of visiting the same place more than once.

I'm back in Malaga, this time for potential business as well as pleasure, and can barely describe how nice it is be here once again. Sitting at one of a dozen impossibly quaint or cool cafes lining the beach in the suburb of Pedregalego, a small 'burb about 10 minutes jog from the city center of Malaga.

Turning my head to the right, the Mediterranean is about twenty steps away, the sun is beaming, the sea is emerald green and then turning to deep blue about 300m away and the air smells like the stuff they add to laundry detergent. Except it's much less detergent-y. Competing for my eardrums' affections are the waves crashing on one side and Bob Marley on the other.

More on the latest trip here soon, including more photos.

La bicicleta de la semana