The cries of Ole resound in the small room. The lights are dim but bright enough to shine on sheen of sweat on the faces and bodies of the dancers.
Suddenly a deep baritone growls out notes to a song you don’t understand but can feel all the way down to your toes.
The thudding off the heels, the snapping of the fingers and the flinging of the fringed shawl in a frenzy is enough to create a tempo that you are moving along to; even without knowing.
The sangria is forgotten, the fatigue of the day is parked for a while…and you just watch the fury that is the flamenco!
This was our last day in Barcelona. We decided to skip the beach in the less than balmy weather and spend the day in the Gothic Quarter instead. A good decision as it turned out.
Browsing through a flea market, listening to street musicians and having a perfect lunch in a quaint, hole-in-the-wall place in one of many warrens of the Gothic quartets was a leisurely way to see not just see the tourists but also see how the locals look at the likes of us.
Street artists who busk all day at the main square
The wall of an art museum there.
Huge wooden doors with wrought iron knockers dot the area
A Brit watercolor artist who’s called Barcelona his home since the 70s.
Lladro statues being sold so casually at a flea market.
The saints outside Barcelona cathedral
Gaudi and Barcelona are synonymous and even without anyone going too deep into the psyche or temperament of the artist, you can’t help but concede, the man had style! A glimpse of his masterpiece Sagrada Familia…
When I visit a new place, I don’t just focus on the well-known or even the off-the-beaten track kind of locales and sights; I like to capture the every day lives of the people there.
Here are some glimpses of Barcelona, the way the locales live.
Apparently Annabelle resides in Barcelona
A bit of Argentina on a Barcelona sidewalk
St.Joan’s church..FYI it’s a he and not a she.
In the midst of elegant balconies and facades is graffiti.
Butcher shop store front
Grocery stores are a riot of colors
Some mornings are just bloodthirsty and sadistic. Or maybe…it’s a not-so-smart smartphone?