The Dichotomies That Are Barcelona: WWJT, Hell's Angels and ...Oh, My!

So just in case the title of this post leads you to believe that I am going to write up an all encompassing treatise of Barcelona that will provide brilliant and scintillating insight into the polarizations that give the city its character, dissuade yourself.

I will pointedly point out that in what actually follows I will not be using the pronoun "we." Sometimes, it's important to give credit where credit is due. And to protect the innocent. 

First, What Would Jesus Think?

What you see below is a funicular. Who does not love a funicular? Even the name is fun - fun-icular! Say it a few times. It really does roll of the tongue. At least, I think it does. I'm not really sure how to pronounce it. A funicular, as you know from reading our account of fun, fun, fun in Zagreb, is a tram-like transportation devise operated by cable with ascending and descending cars counterbalanced. One goes up, the other goes down and gravity plays a significant role.

The FUN-icular shown here takes you up to one of the more popular tourist destinations in Barcelona: Tibidabo. The name, Tibidabo is derived from the Latin phrase meaning: I will give to you.  This phrase, so the story goes, was used by the devil in conversation with Jesus, asking him to renounce his father's kingdom. If He (<--Jesus) did so, he (<--the devil) would hand over the world.

Or something like that; my knowledge of things biblical is less than perfect; beyond the obvious that I have managed to produce two children. But this conversation allegedly occurred as they (He and he) looked down from an exceedingly high mountain upon all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them. The name of Barcelona's hill thus refers to the popular tradition that it was in fact the exceedingly high mountain itself. So, it's a very high hill that looks out over the world. Barcelona does not have self-esteem issues.

 

Fun, Fun, Fun-icular! More for some than others.

Wiki says of Tibidabo: "There is an amusement park, a telecommunications tower (Torre de Collserola), and a Catholic church, the Temple de Sagrat Cor, at the top, all of which are visible from most of the city." In that order.

And, in fact, please see below, two of the above mentioned sights. Forgive me if I fail to include the communications tower in my discussion. The Spanish do churches up right, don't they? I find it a little shocking that Wiki gives this thing third billing. I mean, it's pretty incredible. That's not some fake-y Disney-esque castle back there; that's a seriously large and looming House of Worship. I could point out that whoever took the photo lopped off the head of the guy at the top, but you probably noticed that yourself already.

But, and forgive me, it's all a little incongruous, don't you think? The amusement rides and the seriously massive, looming church? I mean, here is this spectacular view of all of Barcelona, and what do humans do? Build a fake airplane ride that spins you out over it.

So, what would Jesus think? I'm torn. Part of me thinks He's shaking his finger at it all. Part of me thinks he's pondering the purchase of a Season Pass.

Second, the Hell's Angels:

This was the view from our "sea-side" apartment. This is one of those deals where I think I need to read the fine print a little more closely. Turns out "sea-side" actually meant a ten minute walk to the sea. Whatever. But I promise you they failed to mention the fact that the Hell's Angels had a location just below our window. Although, all was quiet on the western front and we did not hear a peep from these folks while we were there, so no complaints.

But now for the quiz. What's wrong with this picture?

Here you go. Only in Barcelona do the Hell's Angels ride electric scooters.

Third, Beach Blanket Bingo

No photos accompany this last bit, the reason for which will become quickly apparent. 

One afternoon Jeff needed to get some work done and since the children had been jonzing for some beach time, I offered to take them while he hung out at the apartment. Off we went, me with my knitting and the children determined to build a Sand Forbidden City (don't ask me; the Forbidden City is a huge, intricate, relatively short structure, so it is a fan favorite for sand building).

We found a spot on the beach where I thought Jeff would be able to find us and settled in for an afternoon of knitting and people watching. I did not get much knitting done.

To the right of us, I realized soon after we arrived were a very loving couple, one of whom was topless. And the one who was topless possessed the most incredible set of tatas you can imagine. I took one look at her and thought, "Holy guacamole, if I possessed a rack like that, I could not be persuaded to don a shirt. Ever." Her partner, also a woman, was fully clothed, but was clearly clearly enamored of the exposed lady mounds, and the pair were actively engaged in the kind of PDA that makes you wonder if maybe there should be laws against that kind of thing.

The Goddess Rack, clearly sending out some kind of a home signal, attracted a pack of young bucks who just about dropped their eyeballs on the sand when they caught a glimpse of the almost unearthly gorgeous-ness of these bazongas.  The dudes immediately set up camp right next to the couple, and while you could practically hear them deflate when they realized that this bit of territory was off limits to their gender, it didn't take long for their wee, testosterone soaked brains to see the upside. While they would not be able to take the actual merchandise home, they could perhaps store the imagines for, er, later use. They ogled openly.

So, entertaining, n'est-ce pas? But let us shift from the sublime to the ridiculous. Or from the ridiculous to the sublime. Look, I'm not out to make fun of anyone, I'm just reporting the dichotomies here. 

Moving to the right of where we were sitting, parked a family of ten or twelve of the most massive people I have ever encountered in my life, all nekked as the day they were born. Just, bigger. For a brief moment, I thought, maybe they are so large they cannot find clothing?? But, clearly, these were people who were very comfortable with their bodies, which was good, because there was an awful lot to get cozy with.

At the end of the day, the people to the left of me and the people to the right of me were the only   people on the beach sans vêtements. The rest of the folks up and down the beach were all sort of average size, possessing your everyday sorts of bosoms and were not engaged in excessive face sucking. I had just happened to settle on the most interesting, and one might argue dichotomous, section of beach.

You may ask, what did the children think of our human bookends? Not much. I pointed out the fact that we were on an clothing optional beach, told them they could look all they wanted and ask any questions that popped up, but if they would mind not staring, I would appreciate it. Which is about what they did.

Frankly, their manners on the whole were a bit better than mine. 

Comments

[Monica]

Hahaha!

[Debbie Hanson]

LOL.....I can't believe you did not take photos! I would happily have volunteered to photoshop/blur all their *ahem* 'dichotomies'.

[Jennifer]

Not even an arty photo, with sand pail strategically placed? Oh well; probably better after all.