The first day - Part Three

Hello all, this is chicken mcnugget reporting, i have taken over blogging duties because shifty nugget has to do some "real" reporting. so anyways i shall continue from where she left off. After wandering around in Barri Gothic, we proceeded back to Sameer Bhaiya and Kim's place, but not before stopping at a random plaza (in front of what we later found out to be the old roman wall), to eat the first of many Gelatos (but not THE gelato) and watch break dancers do their thing.

ok at this point there should be a picture showing them dancing, but being a twerp i have no idea how to make that happen, so i'll fix that in another post or something. OH WAIT! i seem to have found the button that does it.


so after finishing our gelatos i suggest we try to see some of Gaudi's buildings which are on the way back to the apartment, but of course first of all we stop to gaze at the beautiful architecture in the interior of H&M and Zara where shifty nugget draws first blood by buying some white shirt(or something). All i remember what having to wait around while she was in line and noticing that people in Barcelona bring their dogs EVERYWHERE(like inside the Zara store). Moving on, we carry on down the road which i believe is the one that runs parallel to Rambla De Catalunya and soon enough we come to the first of Gaudi's buildings; Casa Batllo. Its across the street but the first of many Gaudi things which we will come across in this fantastic city. I am truly taken aback, i love how expressive the building is and how organic it feels. This is later carried on in the next Gaudi Building we come across; Casa Mila

being cheap..i mean thrifty we decide not to pay the ten euro required to scale the building. On hind-sight i think it was money well saved, also it leaves something for me to do should i return to Barcelona.

Anyways we finally get back to the apartment, where we wash up and rest(i fall asleep for an hour or so). I awaken to the sounds of Sameer Bhaiya coming home, having not seen him for...14 years it was really nice to meet him again. He strikes me as a really cool, humorous guy(who is also very intelligent). So we decide on where to have dinner(the first of many indecision's) and head down to the nearby Gracia neighbourhood. We had tapas for dinner(i can't remember exactly what we ate) after which, Sameer Bhaiya and Kim took us around, showing us their favourite shwarma shop(soon to be a stable) and bringing us to....THE GELATO SHOP. ok truthfully i can't for the life of me remember its name, but i remember exactly where it is on the Passeig de Gracia. but this place had a crazy variety of flavours(21 in all), with the best and i mean the best gelato ever. For the rest of our stay in Barcelona we would continue to patronise this place. Eventually we headed back to the apartment where we went to bed, eager anticipating the next day. Phew.

Barcelona - The first day, part 2

Otherwise known as: a picture heavy post. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing!

We walked down the whole rambla and finally reached the end, where there was a tall statue stabbing the sky. We didn't really venture too close to the monument, but walked along the side of the road, instead, where a carriage stood, replete with the warm hay fragrance of the horses.






On the way back, we picked our way through shady, small alleys, constantly twisting and turning at right angles. Eventually, we found ourselves inside the Barri Gotic - the gothic quarter with walls and accents to match. I really loved the architecture here, high archways over dark, cool brick alleys that hid the sound of the street. It was like something out of an Alexandra Dumas novel; I could imagine characters running in and out the alleys or having hushed conversations behind the shaded walls.



This wall, perpendicular to a beautifully latticed stone walkway (according to Wikipedia, it's called Carrer del Bisbe Irurita, whatever the hell that means - MB! Translate!), had a series of long-necked gargoyles running along it, animals distorted from their normal shape. There were birds like garudas and snouted creatures that looked like a cross between pigs and elephants.



Along one wall, we peeked into a tiny opening to see a beautiful, mythical looking green garden inside, fountains framed by green fronds. It looked so cool and inviting that we thought it was the courtyard of a rich man's private house. Turns out it was the entrance to a cathedral.


I personally thought the yard was the prettiest part of the cathedral. It had a large pond filled with ducks wagging their tails and coming round to tourists out of curiosity. And a pretty little fountain or font-type thing at the side.



The inside of the cathedral had the traditional high, arched ceilings that one would expect in European cathedrals, tall, faceted pillars and the most beautiful stained-glass. It's amazing to me that I'd never seen such wonderful stained glass in my life up to that point, and it was some kuching kurab cathedral in the middle of Barcelona. Asian countries just don't seem to have a culture for churches like this, not even the cathedrals I've seen in Hong Kong (which was, frankly, an icing-blue monstrosity), the Phillipines or Singapore.


We had to get into a dinky little lift to get up onto the roof. It creaked and whined like crazy, and my heart beat a little faster when another group of sweaty tourists crammed themselves in. At the top, we could see part of Barcelona, and the tall steeples of the church where scaffolding had been laid for restoration. All I could think about was how a roof centuries old was supporting the weight of all the hale young tourists who were tramping up and down it, and I confess, it made my knees a little weak.

Saa enjoys a contemplative moment above the hustle and bustle of the city.

Barcelona - The first day, part 1

Arriving in Barcelona was made more surreal by the fact that HS and I had been flying for half the day. We wandered around the madly crowded airport looking for MB and Saa and got promptly distracted by the fact that dogs of all shapes and sizes were allowed into the airport to welcome their masters home with wagging tails.

We finally found Saa and MB without much trouble and couldn't stop grinning and giggling as we tumbled into a cab and MB read out Sameer Bhaiya's address in Spanish - the first of many times we were to make use of that talent.

I couldn't stop smiling in the taxi, even as I stared out the windows at the Mediterranean vegetation and quaint, European architecture. I'm actually in Europe, my mind screamed dizzily.
We pulled up across from Sameer Bhaiya's place and when we attacked the intercom, Kim told us to come on up. To my delight, "come on up" meant riding in an old school lift with a folding metal gate and squeaky wooden doors with frosted over glass panels. It was quite a feat, fitting our luggage and four of us into the creaking elevator, complete with a red vinyl bench.

We rode up and down in the lift many times after that, and got piling in and out down to an art - so much so that we started timing ourselves and getting faster and faster. (It involved some zany Marx Brothers routine of MB climbing in and squishing herself over the bench while I closed the doors on one side, we jabbed frantically at the buttons and Saa flung open the doors on the other side so we could all barrel out.)

When we got upstairs, we finally met Kim and loved her at once. It was clear that she and Sameer Bhaiya loved having visitors and had prepared a whole host of guides, tours and maps of the Barcelona. Despite being jetlagged, she sat down and told us about all the things we could do and showed us routes on a map before bringing us to her favourite Tapas place for lunch.

We sat down to eat and Kim headed off to meet her boss, or so we thought, because when I looked up from the table, she was back in the restaurant, making suspicious looking gestures to the waiter.

"Oh, no, I hope she's not doing any sneaky business," said MB, as Kim came striding out, smiling cheerily.

She grinned at us, waved and called over her shoulder: "You better order something nice!"

She had actually given the waiter 50 euro so that we could order anything we wanted for lunch!!

She was doing sneaky business! It was amazing of her, and made us feel warm, welcome and loved all at once.

We ordered grilled vegetables, manchego cheese and bread and squid, grilled firm and laced with piquant herbs and lemon and even little fish, fried to crispy silver curls. HS leaned back in his chair under the umbrella and tree leaves, piece of tomato-rubbed bread in his hand and grinned at me.

"I finally feel like I'm in Spain," he said.

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Places we went on our walk after lunch:

We took a lovely walk down La Rambla, the central pedestrian street in Barcelona, lined with shady trees, street performers and even people selling pets. I gripped my bag in sweaty fervour, remembering tales of pickpockets and thieves, but the sunshine was too bold and lovely to make us too paranoid for long.

This building, covered in dragons and Chinese fans and umbrellas was just one of the quirky examples of architecture we saw on the way. Bee-tee-double-you, the sky in Barcelona really IS that blue. Apparently it only rains 23 days out of every year or something.

A famous theatra and opera house, which was, unfortunately, closed.

A tree with pretty, camouflage-like bark (Chip, too, has a pretty bark, but it's not like camouflage. Har-hardee-har).

Our first destination - the famous and wildly popular market of Barcelona - La Boqueria. Just the entrance alone made me excited enough to want to pee my pants.

Stalls inside sold heaps of things in rainbow arrays. They have a way of artfully arranging things in pretty, colourful mounds that just makes you want to touch and eat and try things - this gigantic pile of sweets absolutely reeked of sugar. I could feel the fillings in my teeth (if you're interested, I think I have four) starting to squeak. We ended up heading for the centre of the market and trying one euro fruit juices instead. Mine, mixed coconut and strawberry, was sweet, rich and cold.

Ditto piles of seafood.

I also loved the fact that there was a bar in the middle of the market and people could come and gather at the counter to drink and talk amid hanging slabs of meat and whirring fruit juicers.

We moved on with our walk and passed a pretty little chocolate place. I had been dying to try European chocolate (I ate my way though French, Spanish and English chocolate throughout the trip) so we ducked inside to watch the girls arrange things behind a glass pane. Saa treated us each to a slice of candied orange, a lovely, sticky little golden sun dipped in dark chocolate that made my fingers delightfully sugary.

Nugget bios - An introduction

From left to right: Saa, HS, Me and MB

Chicken McNugget
Birth name: Hanshen Sudderuddin
Also known as: HS
Most often found: Suffering remorse from not buying coveted objects. Looking for outlandish hats. Navigating his way through perilously winding streets. Eating shawarma.
Catchphrase: "Ahhhh, the blessid Salon de Comares, Hall of Comares!"

Shifty Nugget
Birth name: Shuli Sudderuddin
Also known as: Me
Most often found: Licking monuments. Making phone recordings of strange European noises. Threatening to kick pigeons.
Catchphrase: "Oh, LAWDH!"

Shrimp Nugget
Birth name*: Marium Zafar
Also known as: MB
Most often found: Eyeing pretty things and not buying them. Wearing shiny silk harem pants. Tight-smacking other cousins. Wearing new accessories every day.
Catchphrase: "BURRRRRN!"

Rooster Nugget
Birth name*: Sara Ahmad
Also known as: Saa
Most often found: Running around the Spanish streets in her gardening hat. Buying pottery. Getting temporarily lost**.
Catchphrase: "You guys are SILLY!"

*Unless there are some birth names I don't know about?

** But getting permanently found

Nugget Soundtrack - Track 1

Wandering

It started as a little idea kicked around by Hanwei when Marium Baji and Aunty Shazdeh came to visit us in Singapore at the start of 2009.

"We should go on a cousin trip in September," he had said, listing Europe and North America as places that he wanted to tour. We laughed and joked about it, but to be honest, the probability that it would happen seemed low in my mind. We were literally from opposite ends of the Earth with schedules to match. And Europe felt mythical and far away. I forgot about it quickly.

Marium didn't. When are we going on our trip, she asked us on Facebook. Hanwei, so much for his delusions of grandeur, quickly admitted that he had to forgo the holiday. He would busy poking at cells or something equally trival.

But my timetable was suddenly looking good - good enough to take a three week break in the months of dying summer. Hanshen, who realised he would be fresh out of army, found himself equally free.

And when Marium Baji (henceforth MB) said that she was bringing a fourth cousin along, we never dreamed that it would turn out to be the venerable Rooster Nugget, Sara Apa (henceforth known as Saa), whom we hadn't seen for years.

The trip was planned in bits and pieces, in Facebook and by email, during lulls in my time at work and in between MB's clients. And slowly, our itinerary took shape - eight days in Spain, five days in Paris and the remaining four and a half days or so in London - none of them places I'd ever been.

I didn't actually believe it was going to happen, not even when we bought the tickets. It only sank in when I saw MB and Saa laughing at me as we ran across the arrival hall in Barcelona and flew into each other's arms squealing: "We did it! We did it!"

This is my story of that trip, led by the immortal words of Agnetha, Björn, Benny, Anni-Frid:

I can still recall our last summer

I still see it all Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain

Our last summer

Memories that remain
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But before we begin, a lesson in the necessary terminology:

Tight smack. n. A hard slap given to the face of an insubordinate younger counsin. Traditionally delievered with fingers rigidly locked to cause pain.

Loose smack. n. A light, playful slap given in jest. Dealt out with loose wrist and fingers so that recipient laughs gaily in response.

Slow blink. n. Sudderuddin family specialty. A blink held for longer than the usual time, finished off with barely perceivable eye-roll to create tension and fear in the blinkee.

And now, on to our trip. PA!