(Don’t forget – this all took place in April).
Today, Sunday, the plan was to meet Elisa and her father, Carlo, at Petit Palau at 1pm. Yesterday the artist (remember? artist’s studio) told me there would be dancing outside the Cathedral so, after breakfast I went there to check it out. Nothing. Not even a hint of musical preparations. (Later I learned from Ann that it started about 11:20 am. I was there at 10:50.) Instead, I walked down to Port Vell with the idea of drawing some boats. I couldn’t settle down, the boats just seemed too jumbled and confused and I couldn’t figure out how to sketch anything. Kept walking, looked through an archway and spotted the entrance to Museu d’Historia de Catalumya, and entered. I surprised myself again – must have been channelling Gwen – sketched pots, pots and more pots. I learned, in the process, more about pots than ever before.
I met up with everybody and we had lunch at Le Cucine Mandarosso. Oh, thank goodness this place wasn’t discovered earlier in my trip. Homemade pasta. Most of the dishes that day had no meat. Ohhhh. Man. The dessert. No amount of walking would have zeroed out the calories.
Speaking of walking. After lunch we walked to La Sagrada Familia (Antoni Gaudi). Ahem. I knew the way since I was there earlier in the week. The others decided to stand on line and go inside. I opted out, too many people, and waited by the gated entrance where I could sit on a wall.
I did this drawing, not very good, and was going to relegate it to the trash. But, you know what, it reminds me of the sunny, windy, cold in the shade day. It reminds me of the 6 little tiny kids who crawled all over the wall and me, fascinated with what I was doing and bewildered that I didn’t speak Catalan.
The same with this snarky drawing. Instant memories in living colors and goosebumps.
Afterwards we took two taxis, supposedly to Santa Monica, where there was the last day of another book show. I say supposedly because the first cab which contained Phil, Gwen and I, and which was in the lead, let us out too soon, which forced Elisa and Carlo, who knew this was a mistake, to have to also get out of their following taxi. This led to a looong walk to La Rambla and then down almost to the port. The book show was ok. Not of the caliber of Elisa’s “Festival”. The four of them went to have drinks by the sea but I preferred to pick up something to eat in the hotel room. I don’t remember but probably an ice cream cone was involved.
The next day, Monday, I finally drew the view from my room window. Simplified. It was a very complex view.
I had breakfast in Starbucks and the guy with the nice hair and suit sat in front of me again and plugged in his laptop. His office? I spent time writing and reading. Then I remembered I wanted to be somewhere SOON(!) so I hustled to Plaça Raiel and joined the free walking tour. This time I wrote down the names of streets to revisit, located them on the map and sketched my fellow tourists every time the tour guide stopped to do her spiel. Yes, I went in the cloisters when she stopped to let us and I quickly sketched a goose who was watching me. At the end of the tour I impressed myself by knowing just which way to walk to get where I wanted to be.
After lunch. I’m a regular now and even got a smile from the owner. I did a quick sketch on part of a page in the restaurant and then headed out to one of the places I noted during the tour. This is the only time I did the sketch using pencil. Phew. Eraser came in handy. I tried to be careful with the placement of things in relation to other things but ….
I went back to the hotel taking a long rambling route, following the notes I made earlier of places to revisit, and eschewing the map. I went here and there, back and forth without once thinking I would get lost. When I was ready I headed for La Rambla and the streets heading to the hotel. It was early evening and I had planned on packing and then going out for a last round-trip La Rambla circuit, an ice cream cone (ha ha) and something for dinner. Yes, in that order.
At the hotel I read an email from Gwen. Remember last night? Drinks by the sea? Well, they had dinner. And during that dinner a thief snuck in behind the waiter and took off with her purse. He was so good that no one noticed it happening. Passport, money, cards, SKETCHBOOK(!). Gone. Poof. She was able to get a replacement passport at the Embassy. It seems this is not a rare occurrence.
Three guesses who was clutching her purse during that last nighttime La Rambla round trip stroll. I think I even left my journal in the hotel room which was a big first for me.
Moleskine journal; background Gelli Plate printed with acrylic; Sharpie Ultra Fine pen, Pitt brush pen, Signo Uni-ball (UM-153) white gel pen; and sometimes I add a bit of color with Crayola markers.
iPad; New Trent Arcadia stylus.
Pen & Ink and ArtRage .