Big heads

Sunday, shortly after noon, De Anne came back to the apartment very excited. She had passed the warehouse/museum where the big heads are kept and discovered the Sunday afternoon admission was free until 2:00pm. We gulped down a quick lunch and set out.

You have seen a few of these in a previous post, but some are used in a September festival, and were new to me. Most of these were made in the 1800's and used yearly since then. The festival of Sant Magi dates back to 1071, but did not really get going annually until 1356. 

Notice the attachments at the mouth for fireworks on the bull and dragon. That is a pigeon in the gold bird's mouth; however, watching a video in the museum we saw that less appropriate items can be substituted for the pigeon. 

The creepiest one.

Jesters or clowns carry these with big sparklers attached to the top.

We went out for tapas last night, almost a requirement for a visit to Spain. Finally, a real tapas bar! No English menus. I played it safe with a plate of fries, then went wild with a mussel dish and a meat dish that I had no clue what they consisted of. I went back to slightly safe with a mushroom dish that listed ajo (garlic) as part of the description. Very proud of my adventurous palate I asked De Anne what she wanted. After repeated requests from her to go to a tapas bar she ordered a salad! She did try a bite of the sausage and the mushrooms, thus fulfilling the letter of the tapas law if not the spirit.

I had already started to dig in before De Anne reminded me to get a picture. Every item was great!

We are studying our Rome guide book. Friday we board a ferry from Barcelona to Civitvacchia, Italy - then a train to the Eternal City for a one week whirlwind tour.

Slowing down the pace

Over the past few days we have instituted a slower life style. A morning walk, an occasional walk to the market, the afternoon siesta, a beach visit, then a short stroll after dinner.

It was pleasant to explore some yet undiscovered (by us) streets in old town without the accompanying  hordes of last week. 

This is a flat concrete wall. every inch is art work. A fragment section of the Roman circus to the right.

The flag is the Catalonia independence flag.

We have found a favorite dinner spot. Alas, one recommended by an old friend was closed; however, an oriental buffet with a Spanish twist was great. One must exercise care in product selection. What looked to be onion rings was really fried calamari. The rings were so big I could put my hand through one. I thought I was being brave when I picked up a couple tooth picked bacon wraps not being able to see what was inside. Surprise! It was just tightly wrapped, thick sliced, bacon. I got a raw ribeye, had it grilled, and got more bacon. First steak I have had in two months. De Anne was boring - she ate healthy. Like one grilled shrimp (OK, it was a really big one) and artichokes. 

It has an extensive sushi bar and every seafood imaginable. Whole raw fish are also available. Fill a plate and take it to the wok or grill for the chef to cook to order, then visit the sauces bar. Repeat as often as possible, then waddle home.

I don't know what some of these things are, but a couple looked disgusting. Then they brought out the platter of whole octopus. I swear a few were still moving.

Mountserrat

No, we did not visit a Caribbean island. The island was named in honor of the Benedictine abbey founded in the mountains north of Barcelona about 1,000 years ago.

We took the train to Barcelona's main station, transferred to the subway, and found the train station serving Mountserrat. When a train pulled in to the station at the right time, on the published platform, and was correctly marked as "R5" we and a couple hundred others climbed aboard. Suddenly there was some commotion and people began getting off. Being good lemmings we hopped off too and saw a train on the next track labeled "R5" and that the one we just exited was now "S8". 

Racing for seats De Anne got aboard and claimed two. I was a couple people behind when I felt a brush against my sensitive posterior. Spinning quickly I confronted a man dressed in black with a large nylon shoulder bag. Pickpockets use jackets or these bags as cover for their work. In August in Barcelona, a jacket would be a dead giveaway - therefore, the big bag. I told him to go up the steps ahead of me, but he insisted I should go first. I went up sideways keeping my eyes on him. If he were innocent he would have been offended; however, he maintained a forced smile. If he had emptied my back pocket he would have scored a half package of tissues I carry for De Anne. If you have to ask why, then you are not a girl.

 

I took my seat next to De Anne and she said "what a Chinese fire drill!". This was only notable because 3 tourists from China were sitting by us. Who, we found out later, spoke English. 

At the Mountserrat train station we transferred to a cable car for the final leg of the trip. 

On the way up. Cable car building and train station fading into the distance.

The main square and looking up.

The major attraction here is the black Madonna. Neither one of us was interested in the two hour wait to view her, but we did enter the abbey cathedral. People were crowding in for a boys choir concert scheduled daily at 1:00 pm. It is only a ten minute concert and so we moved on opting not to stand for a half hour waiting. All the seats were already full. 

The next event was my idea. A funicular ride to the summit and a walk back down the mountain. Now, this may not sound like my sort of idea, but my logic was sound. De Anne, left to decide, might have suggested we walk both ways and save the cost of a ride. I am always for the gravity-assisted hike.

The funicular and looking out the glass ceiling on the way up.

Arriving at the top I found I had outsmarted myself. We were not at the top and the trail went uphill before it went back down.

The saddle in the picture with two barely visible people is where the trail goes downhill.

The trail wound back and forth with breathtaking views.

There were shrines along the way and we stopped at each one not so much for quiet reflection but as a rest for me. The plastic bag De Anne is carrying is my 32oz. Coke Zero - a must for any hike.

Staggering down off the mountain I looked forward to mechanical transportation. Our cable car arrives.

Halfway down.

During the two train rides back to Tarragona I displayed my skill at sleeping anywhere.

Sant Magi ends

It's 10:00pm Monday night and the festival is finished for this year. It is a mixture of sadness and relief. The huge crowds and constant flow of events begins to take a toll. Especially on us elderly. My young wife was always ready for more.

I mis-read the schedule yesterday about the main parade. Note I said main parade. There have been several. We were the first ones on the street and I had to maintain to De Anne that this was the spot. The good news was we got a marble bench, on the curb, in the shade. I vowed we would keep it. Other folks started drifting in and when we saw an old man park himself on the next bench over we knew we were in the right place. We amused ourselves trying to figure out why there was sand covering the intersection, and watching cars trying to enter an underground parking garage even though the sign said full. They would have to back out into the street filled with pedestrians, turn around, and then the next car would make a doomed attempt.

Finally, the parade started. Bands, bagpipes (an old Spanish tradition??), giant figures, big heads, horses pulling carts of basil, and cute kids throwing hard candies. Everyone was waving clumps of basil and the smell of it in the street was intense. If you did not have basil the guys walking beside the carts would supply you.

The reason for the sand in the street became clear. It was a cobblestone incline and the horses needed it for footing. A horse and cart had just passed us when the horse fell. There were several men for each cart and a half dozen quickly surrounded the fallen horse to quiet him and release him from the harness. This commotion made the horse next to us and behind the fallen horse jumpy. De Anne and I both quickly jumped up on the bench to get our toes out of the street.

Back up and getting hitched up.

Some other snafu must have happened because the parade paused, with a float full of children, right next to us. They were throwing candy to the kids in the crowd. One little boy threw one to De Anne. She smiled at him and thanked him. He threw a few more to her. Then the game changed just a little. He started throwing candy at her. Some of the other children saw how much more fun this could be and De Anne had candy coming at her from several angles. The ringleader is in the red hat. After the parade we found some children happy to accept our loot.

We worked our way through the masses back down from the old city to the Rumbia.

You can never guess what is around the next corner in Tarragona. Line dancers dancing to Tommy James and the Shondells - Mony, Mony. The next song was a bit more appropriate for the venue. Achy, Breaky Heart with lyrics in Spanish. After that the group took a break and a flash mob broke out with more line dancing.

Just too much fun! I was getting dehydrated so De Anne put me on a park bench and returned with a couple beers and an empanada. Purely medicinal, of course.

Today was the high point with teams competing in human pyramid building. The excitement was immense and the crowd as well. One team did have to halt at three levels and start over. I had noticed on the second level one man lost his initial grip and did not get reset well. I think that may have been the problem. Their second try was good.

About to complete a 7 high.

This is the team I "practiced" with. Picture at 5 levels with 3 to go.

There were no accidents today and everyone was grateful. The day finished with a last parade using the big walking statues again.

Tomorrow a trip to the market, laundry, and beach time - that's it!

Nightlife

We hit all the hot spots starting at 11:00am Saturday morning. We have learned the official schedule is rather incomplete in listing all the events. One of the side streets seems to be the place for excitement not on the schedule. A tug of war contest was just starting when we arrived. 

The blue and black shirted rugby team had a decided advantage with some big guys with huge legs, not unlike yours truly. I was disappointed not to be invited to participate. 

Six teams, best 2 out of 3, and the rugby team was the grand champion.

All that excitement built an appetite, so we headed over to Placa De Font where we had a choice of a dozen cafes. Picking one cafe with an english menu and a lunch special our first item was sangria. Meals in Spain are usually first course, primary, and dessert. The first course is more than an appetizer. De Anne had the salad and I had an unusual pasta with mussels and a very thick garlic sauce. Nothing we have had here is bland.

We checked out another plaza and found workmen setting up for the soak. All these figures have multiple water jets linked to small fire hoes which guarantee anyone within 100 feet when activated will get drenched.

Note the workman making the final adjustment on the shell with a 4 nozzle sprayer behind.

Watermelon has several oscillating heads on top and several more jets in the face.

Our reconnoiter was complete and siesta time had arrived. Back to the apartment to build strength for the evening. I did take this picture on the way back fulfilling a promise from a previous post.

Also on the way back, I never get tired of this view of Miracle beach.

We hit the streets again at 8:00pm stopping for a while at each stage; although I admit we did not spend much time at the techno stage. 

Dancers On the Rumbia. Note that McDonalds is everywhere.

A rav just starting in front of the Cathedral.

Our favorite group at Placa De Font.

This is all the buildup to Sunday and Monday the big days of the festival.

Food fest

Dinner last night was on a marble bench in the center of the Rambia. As part of the ongoing Sant Magi festival, speciality food vendors were set up. After a slow stroll back and forth De Anne paused in front of a tent and called me over to see the whole hanging pig legs. A woman in the booth heard us and spoke to us in English. That sealed the deal and after some description from her we were the proud owners of two plates and a beer. The only place to sit was on a marble bench shared by a sitting statue of an elderly man. I will go back later and get a picture; however, at that point my focus was on food. One plate was hard spicy salami and extra spicy chorizo (sausage) with large slices of cheese cut from a wheel and hard local crackers. The other plate included more of the same crackers and the main treat - Jamon Iberica. This is the Spanish answer to Italian prosciutto. A dry cure ham that must be cut by hand just before eating. No cooking or smoking involved. Just two years of pressing and drying under the proper conditions. We watched the man in the tent carefully cut paper thin slices from a hog leg.

After our outdoor, gourmet feast we headed to the stage near the food tents and enjoyed several dance groups. The older women really knew how to shimmy.

We sorta know the town now and have an idea where to look for fun, so we headed a few blocks away to Placa De Font. De Anne spotted some commotion on a side street. Like a moth to the flame she picked up the pace, maneuvering her slim, agile body through the crowd leaving me to bull my way behind her. An impromptu human pyramid was under construction. 

We slowly inched forward and waited, hoping for an encore. Our patience was rewarded with an impressive double tower.

The top climber safely on daddy's shoulders. Note the helmet.

It was getting late (for us - the locals were just warming up) so we headed home. The festival's official schedule includes a few activities that don't start until 3:00am.