[audio http://wpcom.files.wordpress.com/2007/01/mattmullenweg-interview.mp3]
There is something uniquely romantic about train travel. It’s unquestionably the most scenic way to go about exploring the globe and it affords a travel experience that is unparalleled by air and bus counterparts. Unlike the latter methods of transport, trains manage to dissect and traverse great distances by journeying through the terrain and landscape, not above or around it. One can literally examine a variety people, schools, cafes, government buildings and all the other minutiae of rural and urban life from large train windows as they speed from one destination to another. It’s a shame that the United States and Canada don’t have a vast and well organized system of rails like the ones that crisscross the landscape of other countries and continents, I think it could be highly beneficial to counties like the ones mentioned because they diversity of terrain and the scope of the land-masses offer stunning scenery, I’m sure.
Speaking of diversity, the inter-city landscape of Spain is markedly different than that of the other European countries I’ve visited on this trip. Germany, Amsterdam and France are rich with lush green forest and miles and miles of grazing pastures in-between urban metropolises and small country-side towns. Spain, however, is a beautiful blend of bright orange desert intermixed with occasional shrubbery and almost always poised with the soaring peaks of the Pyrenees in the distance. Of the many things that I’ve found beautiful and interesting about this country, the eye-candy I’ve managed to glimpse on my trips between Irun and Madrid and then again from Madrid to Barcelona are hands-down, top of the list.
So what of the cities?
Two days in Madrid was certainly enough for me. Despite housing two of the best museums I’ve seen so far in Europe, The Prado and the Reina Sofia, the city itself left something to be desired. I spent the bulk of my first day exploring the Prado and the second in the enormous offerings of the Reina Sofia. The latter focused mostly on contemporary art and several of the temporary exhibitions were particularly inspiring. Some of the particular works of note include: The Atlas Project (a stunning collection of artifacts that document the violence in the Lebanese civil war), Matthew Buckingham’s exploration of the standardizing of time in modern society, and an enormous retrospective on the brilliant work of Juan Munoz. This is entirely in addition to the museum’s own healthy collection of work, which also includes Picasso’s Guernico. Beyond the two museums, I wouldn’t say Madrid is a city I’d visit again any time in the near future.
Barcelona, on the other hand, is a beautiful and lively city that is in and of itself it’s own museum and cultural hospice. I spent the first day and half exploring the insanity of Las Ramblas. Albeit a bit touristy for my liking, it is certainly more alive than any other place I’ve been in Europe. Complete with musical celebrations and street performers on any given day or night. It’s a constant celebration of life here. From there, I took the metro (highly efficient, by the way) a few stops north to the more laid-back Gracia neighborhood. Tiny, cobblestone streets and a variety of local vendors selling everything from local literature to home-made Spanish desserts and specialties (cheap and delicious)! I proceeded to snack and examine several of the lovely parks that this area of Barcelona offered and managed to finally complete my reading of Arthur Nersesian’s latest novel, The Swing Voter of Staten Island, an immediate and significant departure from all of his previous work, but an excellent read nonetheless (more on this later).
I woke up early this morning and headed to the very Northern edge of the city to examine Gaudi’s unfinished masterpiece – Guell Park. I spent a good four hours exploring the twisting and winding pathways that lead throughout this enormous green space and took in some stunning views of Barcelona’s endless sprawl. Although the park is highly touristy, and therefore sadly infused with flying rats (pigeons), it’s certainly worth a visit. The scope of Gaudi’s vision might be unrealized, but even in fragmentary form, it’s a sight to behold. While there, I took some respite from the heat under the shade of a palm tree and began reading Nabokov’s Dozen. As you may be able to derive, it’s a collection of twelve of Nabokov’s classic short stories. I’ve managed to digest four today and they were all extremely well-written, consistent with the author’s trademark use of crisp detail and balanced with his song-like sentencing. It’s been many years since I’ve read Nabokov, but as soon as you begin, you are reminded why it is his work is requisite in any literature-based course of study, world-wide.
Tomorrow, I spend the morning packing, searching for stamps and finally placing some postcards in the mail that I have been lugging around since Paris. Then, I hop aboard a train to Montpellier, where I rest before heading out to Nice to examine the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean and the wonderful sea-life that lives within when I go scuba diving!
ooxx aa