Barcelona: On the Street and at the Beach

After a relaxing time in Normandy, we packed up our bags and went to Barcelona for a week of fun!

Arriving in Barcelona. Warm weather and sunshine!

The main drag (La Rambla)

An outdoor market--tasty stuff!

More of the market

A Palm Sunday street parade

A pretty park near the cathedral

Fancy pastries

Barcelona is covered in crazy street tiles

Sangria!

Heading to the beach

Still heading there

Palm trees! It's been so long since I've seen palm trees, or any plant requiring steady sunshine.

Fuimos a la playa!!

Drinking cava in the plaza. Not pictured: the tumblers who dropped by and entertained us.

The Norman Invasion

Spring break began with a visit to Normandy. Normandy is the northern part of France, known for fine cider, picturesque rural villages, and bloody, world-shaking battles. The D-Day beaches are here, the battle of Azincourt (sometimes spelled Agincourt) happened here, and the Battle of Hastings and the Norman Invasion of England sprang from here.

I did not come for cider, rolling hills, or battle. I came for friends. Emily had been living in Normandy and Tristan had come to visit her, so I crossed the channel to say hello to them both and spend a quiet few days relaxing and catching up. Using Emily's flat in Doudeville as home base, we took little day trips to Rouen, Honfleur, and Le Havre.

Rouen was a booming city in the Middle Ages--one of the largest in Europe. The cathedral became a favorite subject for Monet's paintings, and the town has played a crucial part in many wars and battles, from Viking invasions in the 870s all the way up to the 1940s.

 A fancy clock

The streets of Rouen

This is the spot where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake on May 30, 1431.

Here are some photos of the cathedral. Unfortunately, a lot of it was covered up, undergoing cleaning and restoration. I took photos of the bits that weren't, but I highly recommend doing an image search of "Rouen Cathedral" to begin to appreciate its full Gothic splendor.

One of the doorways

 The north aisle

The nave

North transept staircase

This is the view from the café where we stopped for bubble tea!

Honfleur is a medieval port town that held a significant role in Anglo-French trade until the French Revolution. Now it's a quaint town where Parisians go for weekend holidays. 

Emily and Tristan, waiting for our sandwiches 

(the hole-in-the-wall sandwich deli is just behind me) to eat on the quay

The 18th-century lieutenancy building

The harbor

The streets were lined with tiny little shops selling Normandy specialties, especially Calvados.

The Fishing Cat pub. We didn't go in, but the, erm, mascot? caught our attention. 

This is Saint Catherine's Church, which I'm told is the largest wooden church in France. It was built in the 15th century using naval building techniques--the ceiling inside looks like a ship's hull turned upside-down.

The Wearing of the Green

St. Patrick's Day is not a British holiday. In fact, my English friends couldn't for the life of them understand why anyone other than actual citizens of Ireland would want to celebrate it, and thought that we Americans were absolutely mad for wanting to acknowledge it. Why? Why celebrate a different country's patron saint, and why especially if you're not Catholic?

1. Beer
2. Irish pub music
3. An excuse for a party

Do you see any problems with the above list? Nope. Neither do I. Yet you wouldn't believe the amount of effort Jon and I had to put forth in order to get the rest of pub club to join in our revels. We finally agreed to dinner and a night out at the pub. And then where did these English blokes want to go for dinner? A curry house. I kid you not. Curry. On St. Patrick's Day.

Well, that wasn't going to happen.

The upshot of the St. Patrick's Day US vs England cultural struggle:
          Yanks: 1
          Brits: 0

We ended up spending an epic seven hours in the first pub, watching the Six Nations rugby tournaments while playing rummy and drinking pitchers of Guinness. Pitchers of it!

Jon and I, the Americans responsible for all this.

Mike

Then we went to the second pub, our favorite Volunteer Tavern (which shall henceforth be referred to in this blog as the Vol Tav). We had delicious Irish stew and soda bread (not curry) and listened to an Irish band. I'm not sure when everyone went home, but I figure I spent at least ten hours in the pub that day, and a fun time was had by all, even the English faction of pub club. St. Patrick's Day success!