Christmas Eve

Today is Christmas Eve. For a New Englander it had a different kind of feel. The sun rose in a bright blue sky, I can see palm trees from my home, and I woke up to a temperature of 56, not 5 or 6. The winds were calm and I was able to have the door open to the back deck while I had my tea and then did my morning exercises. The street out front began to buzz around 8 AM, which I was a bit surprised at since I had heard that a lot of shops close down between the 24th and 26th. The street sweepers were out, I could smell the bread baking at the bakery next door, and the general chatter of the neighborhood coming to life.

I went out for my usual morning walk and did my steps. It’s a hill to get to them and then 5 flights straight up. It doesn’t stop there. There are a few more blocks uphill before getting to the gates of Parc Guell on the north side. I usually do a u-turn at that point and find my way back home. This morning there was another woman clearly on her walk or run and she just went straight through the gates of the park, which I didn’t know you could do. I asked one of the guards and he said the whole perimeter of the park was free to roam with wide lanes, stairways and paths through the woods. I think my brother had mentioned this to me, but I thought you had to pay to get in, but apparently not. This was a spectacular treat as it was early and there weren’t many tourists yet. The park was filled with wonderful vegetation, palm trees, birds singing, and terrific views. (some pics below) I wandered in and out and up and down for about 45 minutes and then wandered through new back streets to get home. On my way back Santa, fully decked out, rode by me on his motorcycle waving and smiling away. I could only imagine he was rounding up the reindeer.

The little bakery next door, the one I wonder on some days how they manage to stay open as they don’t offer much, proved its worth to me today. As I came around the corner the line was out the door and half-way down the block. Everyone was getting their breads and Christmas cakes before the holiday. They usually close for a few hours at two but when I passed later, they were still open and the line was just as long.

Part of me wanted to go on one of my long walks this afternoon, but I think I may be wandering the streets later tonight (not in a money-making sort of way) looking for a local church for midnight mass, so I’ll have my walking time that way.

I am also in pursuit of better shoes and so I strolled the hood looking for what might be out there. My driving moccasins aren’t really cutting it for support. Boots of Spanish leather were going to be my treat while here. A lot of women of all ages are wearing boots just above the ankle, many rather industrial in design. While they look intriguing on them, I’m not sure that’s a good match for me. I came back empty handed.

I found one of Becca’s favorite restaurants, Amelia, on Vila de Gracia Square and stopped for a plate of tapas calamari. The owner, Amelia, was there and her sister stopped in as well. Both spoke a bit of English. Amelia’s new 13-year old dog (Dada I think they said the name was) has a dog bed set up on a window seat. Dada came from a shelter after living with an elderly woman for 11 years. The dog was sent to a shelter and Amelia rescued it. Apparently the first month was rough, but now Dada won’t leave her side.

The restaurant, along with probably ten other restaurants, all have tables set up in the little plaza. My musician from the other plaza and the other day was playing at this venue today. There were tons of people sitting, walking around, and a lot of bicyclists weaving amongst it all. There was a nice hum to the place; a mixture of people always on the move combined with others quite content to sit and talk with family and friends for hours. I don’t think I take the time to do that at home. Note to self. Lounge more with friends.

My Christmas gifts in Barcelona are the simple things. The smell of bread baking at the next door bakery early in the morning. Good, strong, Moroccan mint tea steeped just the right amount of time and partnered with a fresh orange. The rose color on the walls of the residences out back as the sun starts to rise, and those same buildings drenched in gold right before sunset. The beauty of Spanish guitar music and a glass of local wine. Shopping for tonight’s dinner at the market around the corner. A red rose bush still in full bloom highlighted by the afternoon sun, or the little lemon hanging on to its tree next to the bright pink Christmas cactus. The quiet whir of electric scooters gliding quietly by me when I am out walking. The sun highlighting the architectural details of rot iron balconies. The fresh roughness of a towel dried on the line. Linen sheets. Candlelight. Writing. Reading. Designing. Discoveries of a new small plaza where neighbors are gathered to talk and the kids run around and play without a care in the world while a local musician casually entertains everyone. These are all simple things that make me smile.

I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity. Thank you, Becca. I have no idea what 2019 will bring. May it be prosperous in friendships, love, work that I enjoy, curiosity, and so many more of these simple things.