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Last year, I merely celebrated Saint Jordi's Day in the fashion that one should when one's household is half Catalan. But this year, through amazingly skillful planning I was actually in the heart of Catalonia to see the celebration at its fullest in Barcelona, Girona, and Figueres.       My original post last year talked about how this is the Catalan equivalent of Valentine's Day in the US. This was mostly true, but I discovered that there is another angle to it as well. Since it is just a Catalan holiday, it is also a time for Catalan pride and nationalism to come out and shine for the day. The best way to put this in terms that Americans would understand is to say that Saint Jordi's (George in English) is a blend between Valentine's Day and the 4th of July. Probably an odd concept to wrap your head around initially, but when you're in the thick of it, it makes a great deal of sense.       It isn't a celebration that's just in Barcelona, although that is the center of it. You see celebrations of one degree or another through every town throughout Catalonia. You see roses and books everywhere. I have to say that despite seeing some guys walking around with a pile of roses to give to all the women in their families, the guys get off easy. They only have to get the flowers. Women have the harder part in trying to figure out what book to get the guys. After all, that is the exchange; a rose for a book. But, this is changing these days and there are those couples who both give each other books.       Of course, much like you can find all things "stars and stripes" in preparation for the 4th of July for the US, you can find all things roses and red/gold (the Catalan colors.) We had lunch in a place with a special St. Jordi's menu with the red and gold colors splayed across the dishes. There was a tea shop we went to where they can "red" and "gold" teas with rose petals. And absolutely, of course, there are Catalan flags everywhere, both displayed and to buy. One small thing to note for those visiting Catalonia on this day is that beyond the fact that it's one of the few days when locals outnumber tourists on Las Ramblas, there are different Calatan flags one will see and there a reason for this. There is the standard one of red and gold stripes, which is the official flag. Then there is another one with a red star at the top of it, which is the flag for an independent Catalonia. A small thing that most might overlook, but it is a definitive statement. The only Spanish flags you'll see out during the day are the ones for the old republic, which Franco overthrew in his coup that consist of a flag of red, yellow, and purple. A salute to what could have been better times 60 years ago I suppose.       It's a fun holiday and a shame that April 23rd never really gets that much coverage in guidebooks to Spain for some reason, as it's a cool to witness and you don't have to be Catalan to do the whole rose and book exchange.

Yeah, I know, I won't shut up about jamón. It's freakin' delicious and the only place I can get it in great abundance is in Spain because Spaniards love it so much that they don't want to export it to the US in any large amount. Now that's a smart people.       One of the first experiences (as well as the best) that I had with jamón was at this place in Figueres called, La Cabaña, which just means, 'the cabin'. They make their own jamón from the regular levels up to pata negra, which is one of the highest grades (and yes that does literally mean, 'black duck'.) The place readily makes up for its rather odd location and basic ambiance with delicious meats, cheeses, pan con tomata, and a good list of the local wines.       It's because of the outward appearance that a great many people would probably skip the place. Nestled between a couple of strip club/whore houses on the northern outskirts of Figueres, along the highway to the French border, most people would find it about as welcoming as a gas station bathroom. Dining outside means listening to the large semi trucks rambling down the highway in front of you, but who cares and I think the jamón makes you deaf to the noise anyways, so one can just eat and enjoy.       So, after so much chatting about it, how does one find this place? This is not easy and it's what makes the chase of this elusive house of meats so enjoyable. Their business card says, "At Kilometer 760, exit Highway Number 3 in the direction of Figueres." It's not the easiest place to get to. For those who are bold, I believe that on Google Maps, it's right here, but that's something of a guess without an exact address.

To all those visiting Spain, I have a message for you: The Sombrero is Not Spanish. Yeah, I know, you can get them in tourists shops and they seem like they're everywhere, but come on, those guys sell a caganer of anything that makes money. So, is it no surprise that they'd sell something that is much more Mexican than Spanish? No, no it isn't.       Oh yeah, for those who don't know it, 'sombrero' actually just means 'hat' in Spanish. We English speakers just went and incorrectly stole that up from Mexican Spanish (as well as the delicious word, 'quesadilla') even though it just means 'hat' in Mexican Spanish as well. We did something as dumb with 'salsa' which just means 'sauce', but we think it's a Mexican sauce.       But, feel free to get one when you're in Spain because it's funny in a truly stupid tourist kind of way. You'll find others like you. Lost. Clueless. Asking for a hat like them Mexicans wear when you're in Spain because Spain is just like Mexico, right? No, no it is not. But I know you can't hear me now as you're screaming olé as you run down out on Las Ramblas with your new found glory in your new found Mexican hat. Actually, while you're at it, get out of here and head on down to Mexico and get a proper sombrero. You and I will be much happier.

Upon returning to Spain from Venice, we ended up going to Barcelona one day to meet up with a friend, who happened to have a friend who worked in the foundation of Barcelona Football (soccer...). It was a game day and they opened up the stadium for people to see the "museum" of the football club.       Now, I realize that it must be the dream of many a football fan to see the stadium where their team plays, for this tour costs a mighty 15 Euros. I happened to get it for free and after seeing the field, VIP lounge, Lesser VIP lounge, locker room, fitness room, trophy room, chapel (yes, they have a mini chapel), I think I almost got my money's worth out of the deal.       It was kinda like touring the locker room of my high school, but if my high school could fit 80,000 people. Obviously, if you're a fan of the team, this is good stuff. Overall, I think the thing I enjoyed the most was getting some food after the tour and getting on with being a non-sports kind of guy.

One of the first things that I noticed when getting in to Barcelona were the street intersections. In the US, we have a standard 90 degree angle cross where two streets meet in a city. This is not the case in parts of Barcelona, such as Eixample. As you can see in the image below, the streets still meet at 90 degrees, but they've cut the corners off the buildings at 45 degree angles to this meeting. This essentially forms a small city square anywhere two streets meet. And with the blocks smaller than standard US city blocks, this makes for a lot of squares in the Eixample district.       While it can make for an awkward walk up the street as a pedestrian, since you can't really walk in a straight line, this also makes for one of the more lovely city settings that I've seen. It forces a calmness on the city because it doesn't allow anyone to tear up and down the street on foot, bike, motorcycle, or car. Some of the bigger intersections even have small roundabouts which further hinder any kind of impatient speed. While probably a pain to those who don't want to take their time, I quite like the effect and find it to be an extremely pleasant change.       The other effect that this design has is to make the buildings on the corners take on different shapes than your standard square building that is usually seen. This can take the form of just one corner in a building being different, or it can take the form of there being a very small building at the corner that fills in this wedge. Whatever the case, it breaks up any monotony in the flow of the city.       Then, in addition to these intersections, there is Avinguda Diagonal and Avinguda Meridiana that both cut across the heart of the city. Much as Columbus Avenue does in San Francisco, this further breaks up the geography. It also breaks up all the misconceptions I had before visiting when I saw aerial shots of the city and thought that it looked like a standard grid-shaped city. How wrong I was.

Figueres is a really nice little town in north-eastern Spain, rather close to the French border. It's definitely not one of Spain's larger cities, but it has one big claim to fame in that it's home to the Dalí Museum.       True to the form and schtick of Dalí, it's a very odd place, constructed by the wildest pandering to surrealism that Dalí could desire as it was constructed later in his life when he had a great deal of money. And that is really the main draw of it because the lovely heavy-handed Spanish government swooped in right after Dalí's death and scooped up all of the best known works that were there. This was heavily despised by the Catalans of the area, but not unexpected given Spain's general treatment of Catalonia over the years. But added in to this fact is that even though Dalí was born here and was for all purposes a Catalan, he was known to side more with the Spanish government during the long dictatorship years of Franco and hid any support (if there was any) for Catalonia. Thus leading to the anecdote that when Dalí showed up to a premiere in New York wearing an old scuba outfit and nearly suffocated, people in the area nearly got excited.       But, naturally I digress in to the personal life of Dalí, but honestly after 1950 or so, that's kinda what you're left with as he started to repeat himself a great deal. I would never discount his massive contributions to 20th century art in the world. It's just that he was somewhat unfortunate to live too long without having any new revelations to his craft. So, you're left with the whole gimmick that was Señor Dalí. Overall though, it's a fun museum that I would highly, highly recommend for anyone passing through. Just be wary of days where there is crappier weather, since all the tourists in the area flock to the place, seeing as how they can't go out and burn at the beach that is 15 minutes away.

Ah, traveling. Is there anything better? Well, sure, but for it's purposes, getting out of your permanent place of residence is one of the best things I look forward to each year. This time around, I'm taking a long trip to the Mediterranean for a couple of months. It's the first time I'm done this and as you're reading this, I'm somewhere up in the sky or already set down and enjoying a good tempranillo in Barcelona, which is my first stop for a couple of weeks. Yes, that's right, I said Barcelona, not Barthelona. There is a common misconception about this that I really want to clear up now, because like anyone from Catalonia, I've been corrected on it by many a well-meaning person here in the US and I'm gettin' sorta tired of it. It is for the people of Catalonia, Barcelona. But, let's get in to this a bit.       Okay, you're overhearing a conversation about someone going to Barcelona and as soon as they hear the name of the city, the other person says, "Ah, Barthelona." Obviously, because of what we call a lisp, this is how the Spaniards say the name of the city. This correction will inevitably then be followed by the sentence, "You know why they say that, right? It's because this king [or prince, or duke, or whatever] talked with a lisp and everyone just tried to copy him so he didn't feel stupid." Naturally when anyone saying this is pressed for the name of that king, they don't know it. What is even more interesting is that if you ask a Spaniard, they will tell you that this is news to them. This story is for all purposes just a myth. It's been retold and built upon so many times that it's a lot like the, "Coldest winter I ever spent anywhere, was a summer in San Francisco" bit that is usually attributed to Mark Twain, yet no one really knows for sure, albeit there is truth to this as San Francisco is really cold in the summer, unlike "The Barthelona".       Now, it is definitely true that a Spaniard will pronounce the name of the town as Barthelona. But this is irrelevant because the people living there are Catalans whose language is as different from Spanish as Italian is to Spanish and they all say Barcelona. But, my point is, to call Barcelona, Barthelona is as random as us calling Hrvatska, Croatia. If we really want to be correct and pronounce the city correctly, by what the people there say, then it is Barcelona. Sorry to be banging on this point so much, but it gets to be a goofy argument. Let put this another way. If we were so concerned about saying a town the way that the Spaniards who are speaking Castilian do, then we should also say things like Ibitha and Valenthia (Ibiza and Valencia respectively.) But we don't. We say those any old way that seems to work best.       Okay, so where did this all start then? Why is Barcelona the victim of over zealous cultural correctness? Because, I've found out that it's worldwide. Even Germans and others throughout Europe will make this correction. What is is about Barcelona that makes it so damned special other than the fact that yes, it is pretty damned special? I thought back and I remembered my world map that I had over my bed as a child. Growing up, I always remember Barcelona pronounced just that way. No one ever said another pronunciation when we studied Europe in Geography class. Then it hit me. 1992. The summer Olympics were held in Barcelona that year and with them always come all these stories about the region. At the time, the news media was rather daft about Catalan, even though Catalan was a big deal at the Olympics due to it getting national attention after Franco's attempts to wipe it out. And there it is. The news must have started saying this whole Barthelona thing because that's how the overall Spanish population says it. Because, I gotta tell you, from 1992 onward, I can only remember Barthelona. I realize that this was 15 years ago, but still, I am certain that is the point at things took a turn for the 'th'.       So, what news network was broadcasting the Olympics that year? NBC. And who was NBC's main man when it came to the Olympics? Bob Costas. So, I think that it's only fitting that from this day forward whenever a Catalan person gets with the "Ah Barthelona..." thing, they should silently curse, "Damn you Bob Costas. Damn. You." And hopefully at some point, this will all be corrected.       Oh yeah, if you want to hear more than just my theories on this, you can read this article which gets in to the language specifics and then this article which is similar, but less technical.