TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11
Today was a mess. We signed up for an 11:00 o’clock walking tour, realized we wouldn’t make it, changed to the noon tour, then missed that one, rescheduled for 2:00 and didn’t make that as well.
On the way to the 2pm tour, we stopped at the police station to get my fingerprints, which I needed for an application to stay longer in the Schengen countries, only to learn we would have to go elsewhere.
Both tense, we argued a lot as we lost ourselves in a megastore shopping center. The future is uncertain, priorities are shifting. Chloe fretted that she wouldn’t really get the contract. I was struggling with ideas of freedom, having enjoyed it the day before, but now feeling apprehensive about the possibility of going off on my own while Chloe worked in Milan.
PICASSO MUSEUM
By the time we found Barceloneta, the old town of Barcelona, Chloe’s nose was bleeding, her energy fading. Still, we managed to go to the Picasso Museum, which included great examples of Picasso’s very early work, 14 to 20 years of age, and his famous paintings, Las Meninas, interpreting the famous Diego Valezquez painting from 1656 which hangs in the Museo del Prado in Madrid. Picasso plays with angles, curves, color, light, expression, and playfully depicts the girls and little dog.
The museum also included a temporary exhibit of Picasso’s drawings and prints, so wonderful, in true sense of the word, all drawn with his confident line and expression, for publications, within letters he’d sent, on envelopes, and used as illustration in script to his biographer Sabartes. There were also photos of Picasso with his publisher Gustavo Gili.
BARCELONETA SHOPS
The streets of Barceloneta are dark, narrow, lined with many little shops, some for the rich, most for the many, many for tourists. Barcelona feels financially stable, economically vital, very different than Marseille, or Genoa. So many, bougie boutiques and lovely but pricey cafes and restaurants, and loads of big expensive stores as well.
