Ten years ago Barcelona was not a city you would ride a bicycle around.  Fast forward to now and Bicing bicycles are all over the city and a part of the public transport network.  For a mere 30 euros a year residents can become members, much like a gym membership and use the thousands of bicycles placed around the city.  Using a swipe card the bikes are released from a magnetic lock and if their members return them within 15-minutes there is no extra charge, just the annual fee.  With so many placed around the city this is quite easy to do.  Those unlucky to not meet the time cut are only charged a small fee per quarter of an hour, so there is motivation to return the bike quickly.

This is a brilliant system which would be great in Manchester, Auckland… where ever!  Manchester is a good cycling city.  It is entirely flat yet not many people commute by bicycle despite the infrastructure such as cycle lanes everywhere.  At my work alone, which is a temporary building for us, there are six showers on the ground floor and one shower on every other floor and this building was built for an IT company.  Facilities are ready and waiting to be engaged when habits are overcome.

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The Musica de La Palau is an amazing old theatre in the heart of Barcelona. It’s interior is incredible. We went to see Joss Stone live there one night; it was incredible.

The cable car was a great way to see the city, and pump some adrenalin into the veins as it shimmied from a cable tower over the ocean to the hill side where the Olympics were on in 1992.

Can you see the irony in this?

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With a bit of research we hunted out the vegetarian restaurants in Barcelona. One, just a few paces from La Rambla, called Juicy Jones was in fact a rather eccentric vegan restaurant. For 8 Euros we got an amazing three course meal, and a glass of wine. Bargin.

It had been 3-months since I ate meat, and the entire time I was in Barcelona I craved salmon. Upon my return I broke my vege status and binged on a cream cheese and salmon bagel. My reasoning was that at least the fish are free to swim in the ocean, and aren’t stuck in pens. That was until I read the packet, after consumption and learnt that the salmon had been born, fed, and brought up for consumption in a salmon farm in Scotland. After that, the count started again.

It was only just that in the week we spent in Barcelona that we visited Gaudi’s work. This included La Pederera, Casa Batllo, the unfinished Familia, and Parc Guell. It was a hypnosis as such, especially when reminding oneself that these where built at the turn of century.

Inside La Pederera

La Pederera’s roof

On La Pederera’s roof looking over to the unfinished Sagradia Familia

Is that a tongue?

Inside La Pederera’s apartment

Parc Guell

The sun shone on this glorious day so after La Pederera we raced up to Parc Guell, 20-minutes from the central city, with a view overlooking the city, and back to the ocean.  It was time to sip margarita, and listen to music being played by various groups there waiting for turista donations.

Casa Batllo

We wandered into a bar off La Rambla mid-afternoon, it was time for a caffeine injection.  We had spent the last few hours wandering the Picasso museum and needed a recharge before going to the contemporary art museum.  It is best to speak English, rather than Spanish in Barcelona as they are Catalan, not Spanish; passionately so.  On this first day we started our Catalan lessons with ordering a coffee.  The barista dished out the saucers on the bar as though they were a deck of cards, before the shrill of the grinder sparked my ears.

“Un cafe latte es un cafe con leche, si.” Yes sir.  We did not want to offend any Catalan’s so that was imprinted in the memory for our next order, as the lesson continued.  “Un cafe cortado es, un cafe tallat, si?” I wanted to salute, but resisted the temptation, and instead enjoyed his passion for teaching us Catalan, not Spanish.

We happened to wander into a museum – trying to find a toilet to be frank. Despite this, intrigue led us further and it happened to have a display about Martin Luther King. It got me thinking about a couple of things. How for one small thing can change the course of so many peoples lives. How he did. And how he had come to be what he became: an accumulation of small things. This is why every little thing counts. Be it, taking the bus one less day, or putting that thing in the recycle bin, instead of the rubbish – just as examples. Every little bit counts. It annoys me when people say but I’m only one person, I can’t make a difference. Tell that to Martin Luther King. Tell that to Rosa Parks, tell that to Albert Einstein, tell that to Adolf Hilter.  Those are big examples, but we can also look at small ones, or the interconnectedness of everything.

If I ride to work instead of bus, that saves me £80 per month.  That is instead spent on other things.  It is £80 less to the bus company, and while it is small it affects their balance sheet, and this will affect their decision about how many buses to run, and how often.  This in turn affects the amount of diesel fumes pumped into the air, and also how many jobs for those in the bus industry.  While it affects employment in a negative sense, that extra £80 I have and am spending elsewhere helps other industries, increasing the need for employment there.  Everything is connected, and has an influence, even if it’s one small decision.  Because in reality it’s not small, it’s dominoes.

Beside lamp, Barcelona hostel

You never quite know what you are going to get pre-booking hostels or hotels when traveling. That of course is a part of the fun. Moving on the fly, having the unexpected happen, thinking in the moment, and actually having to be right there – in the moment.  Our Barcelona hostel was in a great location not too far from La Rambla, in the Exiample district.  Each day we trundled down to Cafe de Quiero and had an un cafe tallat, and un cafe con leche, accompanied by the bread fiesta that is croissants of all descriptions.  It happened to be the coldest week Barcelona had had in the last 12-months.  Perfect timing huh?  Either way the city surprised me.  I am not sure what I expected, but I didn’t expect what we got, so I left delighted to have been there for the week.

Markets just off La Rambla

While each morning was marked with coffee, each afternoon we hid from the cold wind in a bar to try the local wine and warm our bones.

On Calle Ferran

And I found Moleskine heaven, the complete collection