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.

Costa Doing Business

Photos from Zeeland and other recent adventures are still firmly and stubbornly lodged on an old defective camera disk.

But a new card was used just in time for Barcelona and the beautiful Costa Brava. An update on its way as soon as time permits...

Technical Difficulties

Coming soon, an update from a very nice part of Holland called Zeeland. In the meantime, an update:

- Camera not working, many photos not uploading.

- Weather - one - seriously - nice day in the last 60; I do have photographic evidence.

Postcard

Postcard from Summer Camp

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm writing to you here from my bunk here at Camp Amsterdam. The rain is steadily falling outside, and I've lost track of the days. Not because I'm having fun - I just mean the rain has caused day and night, weekend and weekday, to blend together into one summer-long washout of wetness and greyness.

Does that sound a tad melodramatic? Yes. And certainly with all the terrible news going on around the world this year, I have no real complaints and still keep things in perspective for the most part.

But back to the weather. Seriously. Dude. I didn't realize that a season could have social anxiety. The number of times that the mercury has crept up above 25 degrees and the sun has sustained its shine unimpeded for an entire day can be counted on one hand. Maybe just one finger, if you get my drift.

There was a weather warning issued yesterday, making it the sixth time this summer this has occurred. July's rainfall was the largest in over 100 years, and so far August is saying "Oh yeah July? Watch this."

Teasing sunshine and ominous clouds make for nice pictures but not nice picnics

Rain on the sunny patio. Best five minutes of the day.

9:30am August 26

A 20-minute downpour produced big flooding. Hopping off the bike and taking shelter is a regular occurence

Amsterdam is renowned for its summer festivals and big parties, which makes it even tougher to handle right now. August in particular is loaded with outdoor cultural events, movie nights, concerts, and performances in the park. Nothing beats a sunny day lounging in Vondelpark or sitting canalside watching the world go by. Aside from the heartiest party-goer however, most people have opted to stay in.

Speaking of hearty, most Dutch people I know are just as fed up as I am. There are a few - refusing to wear jackets or insisting on going ahead with a planned outing - who are fond of the local expression "C'mon, I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt." But these people are idiots.

It's not only me suffering. Across the city, bikinis sit idly in dark closets, waiting for their chance to bust out. All men, overflowing with the need to ogle, are forced to content themselves with surreptitious, doleful glances at bus stop ads for Axe body spray.

And how about the other casualties? There are cases and cases of 2-for-1 suntan lotion in bins everywhere; overstocked beer is going for 9Euros for a case of 24. Sugar-encrusted Slurpee machines are losing their ability to slurp. Fans of Ke$ha are barely getting slizzard.

So, as September approaches and the leaves begin to change already, I will put away my milky white legs for another 7 months until the real sunshine comes out in March. Till then, say hi to summer for me, enjoy a barbeque or two, and instead of food please send blankets and self-tanner.

Love,

J

Pluk de Nacht

Imagine, if you will, a warm, buttery evening of no wind, no rain, and an open-air film festival along the waterfront. You spread out a small blanket, crack open some wine, some bread and some cheese with a few friends, your neighbours on all sides doing the same, from a cozy but comfortable distance.

Then imagine that you are experiencing the ONLY warm-ish evening of an otherwise abysmal summer for weather, and a few thousand people are hoping to capitalize on the same welcome atmospheric aberration.

You would then be at Pluk de Nacht ("Pick the Night"?), an annual 10-night film festival that boasts free entry (unless you donate a small amount for one of the coveted beach chairs ahead of time) and a cool selection of critically-acclaimed films.

Ours was something featuring Philip Eatmore Often, the thickening thespian. Since he won Best Actor for Capote in 2005, I don't think he's been resting on his laurels - he's been eating them.

Too bad we never found out the name or heard one moment of the movie. Arriving 45 minutes before nightfall (about 10:15pm), the crowds were massive. A small patch of grass/sand with a partial view of the screen and being surrounded by a crowd that was too far removed to care enough to be quiet ensured that this movie was not going to be seen. Too bad - it looked pretty good.

The atmosphere was nice, and still it is a cool setting and concept. It just doesn't have enough space and the climate rarely co-operates. I'm finding out that there's a reason most of the Netherlands heads out on vacation in August.

As for the next time I'm feeling Plukky - lesson learned. On the one warm and dry night of August, I'll arrive extra early, reserve a beach chair close to the screen, and warm myself further with some vino and hopes for a better September.

Film-goers with no chance of hearing the film. Sorry, I can't explain the random door wedged into the ground.

Vedett is the beer of choice at the event

This was our (disad) vantage point

Some plucky youth tried to get the upper hand on a prime spot. They were booted off about 10 minutes later.

Hello

Still here, I promise. Just emerging from 3-4 weeks of rain and busyness. Posts coming this week...

Top 10 Amsterdam

We interrupt this Canadian vacation summary for a brief update on the top 10 (new) observations of Amsterdam:

1) Dutch kids need to be tased. Now, for those of you who are familiar with my earlier posts from over a year ago, you may recall my disdain for the way Dutch kids behave (or don't) in public. This has not abated.

It's not uncommon to see a mop-haired kid anywhere from 3 to 10 years old running full-tilt, screaming like a hyena in a grocery store, down a busy escalator, down the aisle of an airplane, in a coffee shop (the normal kind) or in an airport gate area. It's equally uncommon to see their parents make even half an effort to restrain them.

Mom is oblivious to the discomfort of the other people around, and Dad is inciting them to greater and greater heights of ecstatic annoyance by playing along. Actually, let's make it tasers all around, a family tasing.

2) Dutch weather in July is about as confusing as a hot transvestite. 15 minutes takes you from searing sunshine to the North Sea being dumped on one's head. Winter may bite in Canada, but summer is summer for the most part. Not so in Nederland.

3) The newest discovery: the Sky Lounge at Mint Hotel, steps from Centraal Station. The 11th floor restaurant/lounge/terrace has the best views of all of Amsterdam and some parts north of the city, all within a cool, loungey vibe.

4) Much is made of the supposed indifference and coldness of the locals, but in any given neighbourhood you're much more likely to say hello and have a chat with a person on the sidewalk than you are to get the brush-off. Even more so if you step outside the expat bubble and make an effort to speak a little Dutch.

5) Being a regular really counts. The other day I ordered my customary doner sandwich at Grillroom Sefa (bread on the side, extra veggies) and ran to the bank machine next door. I came back to have it already on my usual table by the window, hot and ready.

6) Incidentally, "by the window, hot and ready" is still what brings many tourists here. Despite the desire of the city officials to phase out the red light areas, a recent stroll through the area (yes, a stroll - one doesn't saunter, wander, or amble here) to show an innocent out-of-towner what it's all about (yes, she was slightly horrified) confirmed the truth: sex still sells.

7) Free outdoor film festivals

8) OK, so it's a top 7 for now. But 3 more things are sure to pop up soon...

Calgary and Banff

Calgary's Bow River and downtown at dusk

The first thing you think about when visiting Calgary - coming from Europe - is: where is everybody? Answer: in the 'burbs or in their cars.

The city is essentially the complete opposite of Amsterdam - spacious, car-filled, and with an empty downtown after 5pm. Living there, you get used to it of course and can enjoy the space immensely, with larger fields and playgrounds, more privacy in your own home (I could look out my old Amsterdam window anytime and see 3-5 people in their respective apartments; they, presumably, could also see me).

No longer living in Calgary, however, makes it a somewhat surreal experience when returning for a visit. There are literally streets and streets where you won't see a pedestrian or a bike.

The coziness and density of Amsterdam has an insulating effect, or a claustrophobic one, depending on your perspective. Calgary - isolating or freeing. It's a matter of taste.

Short on time (and photos - sorry) to visit Calgary's downtown, I did what every tourist does and made sure I headed to Banff, an hour's plus drive from the city. Here you'll see many people - make that tourists - strolling the streets and shops in the midst of some awesome mountains, before sitting down to an overpriced but tasty hamburger and then heading outside the town itself to the serene surrounding areas like Lake Minnewanka, pictured below.

More Vancouver

A few obvious things stood out as I crossed Canada after nearly two years abroad. One was the rampant consumerism that is part of North American life - you forget this, having simply grown up in it. There were a few moments where I was actually confused by all the choice and products before my eyes.

In Amsterdam, as in a Parisian market or Spanish supermercado, you might have a choice of say 3-4 kinds of peanut butter. Not so in Canada or the States, where your choice of 10 brands and 3 varieties of each brand is arrayed for your convenience.

I walked into a Shoppers Drug Mart in Vancouver, on the hunt for insoles. I was confronted with this:

Insoles galore

It took me about 10 minutes to decide to go with my final choice, most of which was spent weighing the benefits of gel, air pillos, sport models and barefoot (this one seems like a bit of a scam, when you think about it).

Barry Schwartz wrote a book on the over-choice-filled, over-consumption world that is much of the West, and how it actually reduces happiness: The Paradox of Choice, where he posits that some choice is much better than none, but too much is a recipe for misery.

If you don't have time to read the book, check out his TED talk. Actively limiting some choices and being content with what you have are great nuggets to take away from it. That is, if you choose to.

So one effect of being away for a while is being perfectly ok with just a couple kinds of peanut butter (the Fair Trade brand makes a beauty) and a basic insole, which is nice.

I'm not sure if Europe's reduced selection is due simply to space constraints or a concerted effort to simplify life. But it works.

Vancouver's Pointe Grey area

Incendio, a fantastic pizzeria and Italian restaurant with the best focaccia bread ever, located in Gastown

An all-book changing room, in the center of a clothing store in Gastown

Part of the seawall around Stanley Park

Vancouver is apparently a bit of a meat market