Trails and trials of the writer who walks
This was my last full day in this wonderful city. I walked through the Las Ramblas area once more but it always seems fresh as it’s impossible to find the same route twice in that labyrinth of narrow streets and passageways. And then you pop out into a broader avenue and suddenly find yourself somewhere familiar, perhaps opposite the lovely cathedral, or in the street called La Rambla where the building with all the ‘eyeballs’ is (I think).
The plan for today was to head once more towards the port to see if I’d missed anything down there, and then north again in a wide circle to take in a building called Palau Reial de Pedralbres, a route which would also reveal to me the university district and the football stadium.
Columbus was still up there, on his Mirador de Colom which you can ascend to get panoramic views of the city from 60 m up, and I also passed the World Trade Centre which is like a football stadium with windows, located at the end of a posh jetty. Shouldn’t there be only one World Trade Centre in the world? If not, then the title just means it’s an administrative centre for your own country to trade with the rest of the world. Suppose you run a wool shop in Agglesthorpe, and supply extra-chunky sparkle via the internet to other countries, then your house could be the World Trade Centre (for Agglesthorpe).
The university area was worth walking through – again, I admired so much the modern buildings, and the way they complemented each other’s shapes.
The Palau Reial was the city pad of the royal family from 1919 until 1931 and sits in a very pleasant garden. It was given to the royal family by Eusebi Gὓell – the same chap who got Gaudi involved in his project to provide much-needed housing for the obscenely rich up in Gὓell Park.
Back in the hostel, I made friends with a new room-mate, a very charming South Korean girl who spoke Spanish and had walked the Camino de Santiago the previous year, in winter to avoid the crowds. We bonded a bit over a mutual moan regarding the two girls who were going out at midnight and coming in around 5 am (and leaving all the lights on and doors open with each entrance and exit). I couldn’t imagine what they were doing each night. Clubbing? Working? They were too chunky for pole dancers.