hotel glory barcelona
Day 2
We made it to Chicago Union Station.
We said our goodbyes to Hal in Toledo. We arrived there at 5AM and he departed to catch a spur line up to the Detroit area. We exchanged phone numbers and addresses and told each other we’d keep in touch. He wished us luck on the rest of our trip as he took off.
I really hated to see him leave. He had been the most “resourceful” members of our little group. Without his assistance in Spain, we would probably still be stuck there. Hopefully, he makes it home with no more delays.
We pulled into Chicago’s Union Station at a 9:45 AM. The station was starting to fill with people trying to get out of here. We checked on trains for everyone. Luckily, we were still fairly early in the day. The crowds are really starting to show up as I write.
Chesser and his wife could take the train to Forth Worth Texas and then hop a regional line up to Oklahoma City. The train to Forth Worth didn’t leave until 1:45PM. We were able to reserve seats for them on the train today, but only because of their age. The ticket office had reserved seats for the elderly. Everything else was full.
Julia’s train to New York leaves at 5:45PM, but all the spots were sold out. She did manage to grab a ticket for tomorrow though. She has been debating staying the night in the terminal or trying to find a hotel in the area. It depends on if she can find one for under the $200 she can take out of the ATM today.
Anne found out she could only make it to Flagstaff Arizona by train, and then has to take a bus into Phoenix. Her train leaves at 3:15PM, but there were no spots on today’s train. So she’ll be waiting until the tomorrow to leave as well. She has already decided she will stay the night in the station.
I also had to reserve a spot on tomorrow’s train. I’m supposed to leave at 1:45PM. I told Anne I’d stay here in the train terminal with her (unless Julia gets a room, then she’ll probably go stay with her). It brings back bad memories of having my stuff stolen in Barcelona. I’ll have to pay closer attention.
By the time we were all done sorting out reservations it was a quarter to noon. I suggested we try to find an ATM and grocery store. I wanted to take my $200 limit out today.
The ATMs in the terminal were all out of cash by the time we got to them. So we ventured out and found a Bank of America not too far away. The line to the ATM was over half a block long. We decided Chesser and I would go shopping while the girls waited in line for the ATM. Anne only wanted some snack foods and Julia said she’d just buy food on the train instead of packing it, so they would hold the place in line for us while we shopped.
There was a grocery store another block over. It was just a little mom and pop place and the owner was outside making sure people had cash before he would let you in. There weren’t any other people in the store, which I found odd, and the shelves appeared to be fully stocked. I knew Chicago hadn’t been one of the “trouble cities”, but I still had guessed we would find the selection picked over and things out of stock. That wasn’t the case here.
The store clerk was basically following us around watching us shop. I filled my basket with two boxes of Ritz crackers, 8 cans of tuna, three jars of peanut butter, all 9 bags of beef jerky they had, all 6 bags of trail mix, and about 30 assorted Clif, Balance, Snickers, and other energy and candy bars they had. I pretty much was trying to grab all the high calorie/low weight stuff I could, with the exception of a bag of about 12 apples.
I also grabbed bottles of Advil, Aspirin, and Excedrin Migraine. My body was still hurting and some type of pain medicine was greatly needed. They also sold the smaller Swiss Army knives at the counter, so I picked up one of those too. I just wished they sold Glocks too, but this is Chicago.
While shopping, I asked the clerk if they had seen any issues during the national panic. He said not in their part of the city. They catered pretty much to city dwellers, and there weren’t many of those compared to people that commuted. They had heard most of the problems had occurred out in the suburbs. When people found out about the threat, they stayed home and hit their local Wal-Marts. That and Chicago wasn’t one of the “target” cities, so there hadn’t been very much panic. He said due to the cash and credit card issue, they had actually seen a large drop in customers. Most of his customers never had cash in case they get robbed. He was hoping things would pick back up today once people made it to the ATMs and banks.
I took my stuff and checked out. I was expecting to get gouged a bit, but everything rang up at sticker price, granted, it still felt like gouging since it was in the city and a small store. My total bill came to $223. Ouch! It sure seemed like a lot of money for a little, but I again, my options were limited.
Chesser was already done and waiting for me. When he saw all the stuff I bought, he commented that I was buying for a couple weeks. I told him after Spain, I wasn’t taking any chances. I could tell he thought twice about getting more, but then decided against it.
We found the girls still in line. They still had about a quarter of the block to go and the line was now wrapping all the way around the corner of the building. Something was taking forever. People were getting quite upset at the wait and we got plenty of scowls when we showed up in line, but no one said anything.
As we waited, word spread back up the line that there was some type of government ATM fee begin put on all transactions. Sure enough, instead of the normal bank ATM fee, the ATM displayed a message saying there was a mandatory 10% “emergency fee” being placed upon all ATM withdrawals. This is why it was taking so long, people were mad. Fee or not, I took out my $200 and accepted the $20 hit to my account.
By the time we all finished. It was already 1:25PM. So we had to hurry to get Chesser and his wife to their train. We made it with time to spare, said another round of goodbyes, and wished them a safe journey.
Now it was just the three of us. Chesser had been great to have around. The old guy wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone about anything. It was going to be quieter now that he was gone. I was going to miss him too. It’s always good to have someone who’s been around the block to let you know when you’re not thinking straight.
We found a corner of the station to sit in where we could see the TV monitors and plug in our electronics. The place was full of people now. Everyone had decided after the President’s speech yesterday, that the planes probably weren’t going to start running any time soon, so they might as well take the trains and busses.
I was glad we hadn’t waited in D.C., or I think we’d still be stuck there. It was also pretty fortunate we got here early enough so that we all managed tickets for tomorrow. Sometimes I think Patton’s words ring true, “A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week.” Granted, we hadn’t been violent, but the point still stands. Sometimes, though not always, haste does not make waste. It just gets you ahead of some of the sheeple. I suppose I shouldn’t toot my horn too much, I’m still stuck in Chicago.
Julia’s been on the phone for the past hour. Seems most of the hotels downtown are full of people. Not sure if it’s a convention or what, but sounds like the cheapest room she can find is $145 a night. She’s trying to talk Anne into splitting it with her, but Anne doesn’t want to spend her money on a hotel room.
I can’t hear the news from here, but the ticker at the bottom is talking about how calm is returning to the Nation. The National Guard had been starting to arrive on the scene in certain cities, and that was bringing an end to the looting and violence. The total death toll from “The Panic”, as it is now being called, is already over 2000 people, but the numbers are still being tallied.
The train station started to clear out around 5:30PM. Most people who needed to travel had made their reservations. From what I’ve heard while eavesdropping, the trains are booked for the next 5 days now. People must be clearing out to wait for their trains somewhere more comfortable.
I finally got another phone call through to home. Everything there is good. My brother confirmed that they also had the 10% fee for taking any money out of the bank. I guess it’s supposed to be some type of emergency measure to try to “encourage” people to take as little out as possible.
My brother asked me what I thought we should do about our bank accounts. I laughed and said, “Kiss them goodbye?” I didn’t know if we’d ever get our money out, and if we did, whether or not the money would still be worth anything. I worried that one of two things would happen, either we were going into a deflationary depression and the government wouldn’t let us have our money back because it was scarce and it would bankrupt the banks (and the government by extension) if we got it out, or the government was going to start printing money and anything we had saved would be worthless. Neither would be good for us.
I didn’t have that much in the bank really. I kept about half of my money split up between cash and silver, with a little gold for good measure in my gun safe at home. The rest was mostly in stocks of solid companies that produced things which are needed. As for my bank accounts, I probably had around $6500 in checking and $5000 in savings. I suppose I can kiss that goodbye.
He told me he’d had most of his money in the bank since he’d been saving up for a piece of property. I wasn’t sure what to tell him. There just didn’t appear to be many options to move your money around at this point in time. Hopefully, things would relax a bit and we could move it to safer places, but then, a lot of people might be thinking that same thing too.
He told me mom and dad had gone into town for a county government meeting. Seems quite a few of the farmers were upset about rumors floating around that the Government was going to put a cap on crop prices so we could “assist” Japan, South Korea, and Europe without bankrupting their countries as they tried to buy food. Supposedly one of the Department of Agriculture guys let it slip to the Sheriff when he told him he might have to calm down the farmers if it goes through. I guess word spread like lightning, and now everyone’s having a meeting to decide what to do.
Other than that, things were still pretty calm out in the boonies. Nothing big had happened during “The Panic”, other than a few people stocking up on things that might be hard to get now that the planes had quit flying. My brother said fruit from hot weather regions was in high demand, bananas and such.
Other than that, gas had shot up to $6.27 a gallon, but that was expected to be back to down in another couple days now that things were settling down, as long as the fighting with OPEC over how they were getting paid didn’t go sour.
I told him the train I was planning on catching and the time it should get in. He wrote it down and assured me someone would meet me there. I also told him I had been working on a backup plan, in case something bad did happen with Iran, but I hadn’t worked it out yet. I needed to finish downloading all my maps and figuring out routing. I’d call him tomorrow before I hoped on the train and let them know where I would be if things went to crap again.
After we hung up, I realized how dead tired I still was. I hadn’t had a good restful sleep in 3 days and it was wearing on me. I still decided to start working on at least getting my maps downloaded while the data connection on my phone was working. I selected all the regions to download and put my phone to work.
Julia was now pouting that Anne didn’t want to go in on a hotel room. Anne had decided it was too much and she wanted to save her money for the trip home instead. It was obvious both of them were tired too and their nerves were short.
Anne did come over and sit next to me while I was writing. It didn’t take long before she leaned over and fell asleep on my shoulder. She’s been there pretty much since I started. She must be tired if she can sleep through all this commotion.
Julia is on her phone talking to some friend of hers in New York telling them how we almost died in Spain and how horrible our ordeal since getting home has been. It sounds like her friend is sharing the scary story of being in New York during “The Panic” as well. She’s telling whoever is on the phone that everything will be fine and everyone is overreacting. I really like how she looked at me when she said that part.
It’s about 7PM now. It is going to be a very long and uncomfortable night. I suppose I should get some rest if I can.
Evening update!
At 9PM, the televisions in the terminal all flashed to the EAS (Emergency Alert System) signal. The whole station fell dead silent as everyone held their breath waiting for the news.
It was announced that a nuclear detonation had occurred in Denver. Details were unknown, but a video feed showed a mushroom cloud rising from the city. The crowd stared in silent disbelief for several seconds until a woman started to cry out in panic, “It’s 9/11 all over again! They can hit anywhere.”
The terminal almost instantly turned into a mad house. People literally began to run, where to, I have no idea, but they are running. People are yelling at the top of their lungs. Some are trying to mobbing the ticket office. Others are rushing toward any train or bus in the station. It is pandemonium…
Part 7
I rarely stay in the same hotel. When I was writing my novel, I chose an ultra-modern cheap and chic quirky hotel called Gat Raval, which manages to flawlessly integrate lime green decor, neon-lit reception areas and minimalist contemporary furniture into two townhouses in the seedy narrow streets of El Raval, the city's old brothel district and favoured stamping ground for the likes of Luis Buñuel, Salvador Dali and Federico García Lorca when they lived and worked there. It has a magnificent rooftop suite with great views of the city. The Banys Orientals is its only rival – more expensive but one of the great boutique hotels of the world.
• Gat Raval, c/Joaquim Costa 44, +34 934 816670
2. Favourite restaurant
Café de L'Acadèmia is the best lunchtime restaurant in Europe and has a simple three-course daily table d'hôte lunch menu, including a mini carafe of wine, for about a tenner – a throwback to a pre-Civil War law requiring restaurants to make a good cheap local midday meal for factory workers. I have never eaten the same meal there – it's always fresh Catalan food – and I love the counter area as much as the outside tables that sprawl across Plaça Sant Just towards a tiny medieval church. It's about two minutes' walk from the ancient Ajuntament, the magnificent City Hall in Plaça de Sant Jaume where Catalans are still battling to peacefully wrench their state from Castilian political and economic control.
• Café de l'Acadèmia, c/Liedó 1, +34 933 198253
3. Favourite tapas bar
One evening, after a couple of cavas in the faded art deco splendour of the London Bar (frequented by Dali, Picasso and Hemingway) and a long aimless stroll around El Raval's shadowy passages and the city's red-light district, Barri Xinès – backdrop for the seediest and most evocative section of Jean Genet's Journal du Voleur – I came across Mam i Teca, a minuscule bar close to the Palau Güell (currently closed for restoration), arguably Gaudí's most celebrated masterpiece. Run by a charming English-speaking gastronome, the bar has about four tables and three stools and its patron serves exquisitely cooked authentic tapas, light pastas, fresh meats, fish and a great selection of Catalan wines and malt whiskies.
• Mam i Teca, c/de la Luna 4, +34 934 413335. Closed on Tuesdays
4. Favourite museums
The great art critic Robert Hughes's classic account of the city's cultural history, entitled simply Barcelona, led me up to the National Art Museum of Catalonia, which charts 1,000 years of national cultural heritage. It is surrounded by a faux grandeur of fountains and gardens which are part of the Palau Nacional, built for the 1929 International Exhibition. In particular, this incredibly spacious museum now houses the greatest collection of pre-medieval Romanesque frescoes in the world. These were all but lost to the world until after the first world war, when enlightened Catalans relocated and restored those that had survived years of mutilation and neglect in the tiny villages in the Pyrenees. Also utterly unmissable is the Museum of Contemporary Art, in La Raval.
Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, (MNAC), Palau Nacional, Montjuic.
Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcleona (MACBA), Plaça des Angels
5. Favourite festival
On St George's Day, the entire city, from the New Town boulevards of the Eixemple, down the centre of Las Ramblas (and across La Ribera to the fisherman's houses on the Barconeleta) metamorphoses into a magnificent floral literary festival, when the men of Barcelona give their loved ones roses, and the women return the compliment with a book. Appropriately enough it was on St George's Day a few years ago that I was lucky enough to meet Carlos Ruiz Zafón, the Catalan author of The Shadow of the Wind. As a literary introduction to his home town, the novel is unparalleled, and a perfect fictional companion to Robert Hughes's cultural bible.
6. Favourite cathedral
I have spent hours in La Seu, an amazing example of Gothic architecture, studying the paintings, the side chapels, the tombs, the statues and one of the most beautiful cloisters I have ever seen – 13 white geese have inhabited it for over 400 years. La Seu has been Barcelona's iconic cathedral since the dawn of European Christianity, and the remains of one of the city's patron saints, the teenage girl martyr Santa Eulàlia (Laia is her local name), are interred in the crypt underneath the exquisite altar. She was martyred brutally in the fourth century and was the inspiration for a famous painting by John William Waterhouse, one of the great pre-Raphaelites. Legend has it that she was rolled up the hill close to the cathedral in a wooden barrel filled with broken glass. Plaça de la Seu in front of the Cathedral is the venue for an unmissable ritual performed every Saturday at 6pm – the sardana, which is Catalonia's national dance. If you are there, you will be forced to join in.
• Plaça de la Seu s/n, Barri Gotic. Metro: Jaume 1
7. Favourite theatre
Barcelona is famous for contemporary dance and vibrant fringe theatre, but it also has a magnificent opera house, the Gran Teatro del Liceu, which runs programmes of opera and classical music performed by leading international singers, musicians and conductors. Lorca and Genet staged their work in this grand auditorium on Las Ramblas. (Lorca called this broad artery "the one street in the world I didn't want to end".) Its stage door is next to the Mercat de La Boqueria, the city's ancient food market, where you can eat tapas and drink solo (espresso) before entering the grandeur of the Liceu.
8: Favourite cemetery
The setting for a key chapter in my book is the Cementiri del Sud-Ouest, where thousands of graves, tombstones, mausoleums and chapels are literally carved into the stark cliffs that loom above the vast industrial seaport opposite the south face of the little mountain called Montjuic. Thick stone columns guard rows and rows of memorials and coffins encased in carefully marked square sealed cabinets, the final resting place for thousands of Barcelona's dead. Tiny square plaques are neatly sculpted into walls of stone which stretch up and down the undulating hillside like strange vestiges of an ancient civilisation. Dried flowers, faded photos, and effigies of the Holy Virgin sit in small sealed glass protuberances, which give each cubicle, (not unlike the cubicle in a morgue), a poignant idiosyncratic atmosphere – a little personal identity which keeps them from being desperate and uniform. I adore this place, which also overlooks the Mediterranean.
9: Favourite late-night bar
There are hundreds of great bars, particularly in the La Ribera district, but my top choice is Gimlet, an art deco haven. The bar itself is shaped like a piano, and the cocktails are as good as any mixed in Manhattan. La Ribera's main street, Passeig del Born, also has several chic boutiques, the Picasso Museum, another great Catalan Gothic church – Santa Maria del Mar – and the vast Parc de la Ciutadella, where you can see Gaudí structures, fountains, a zoo, sculptures and monuments left there since the Universal Exhibition of 1888 – some would say the catalyst for modernism.
• Gimlet, c/Rec 24, La Ribera.+34 93 201 5306
10: Favourite plaça
Nobody could come to Barcelona and fail to enjoy the experience of sitting at one of the cafes or outside restaurants which surround Plaça Reial. It is surrounded by tall palm trees, and peppered with wrought iron lamps designed by a youthful Gaudí. A fountain in the middle has a statue of the Three Graces, and all of Barcelona at one stage or another passes through this sublime 19th-century square. There are the inevitable street entertainers, refugees from Las Ramblas, which is a minute's walk away, and it is crammed with tourists but as in Venice, its faded elegance survives all this. Within a short walk you can be strolling along the beach of the Barceloneta, stalking El Raval's bars or visiting the eccentricities of the Pipa Club in the corner of the square, where everyone smokes a pipe and drinks late into the night. Life at its most amusing.
• Don Boyd is a film producer, writer and director. His debut novel, Margot's Secrets, is published by Ziji (£12.99)
