On the day I drove up to Tibidabo, it was raining and foggy and cloudy and, generally, a great day for photography.
Even though I had a GPS, I passed it several times; the fog was so thick you couldn’t see more than a hundred feet.
Anyway, when I got here, I walked around, literally in the clouds. Tibidabo is a popular attraction on top of a mountain, but there were only a handful of people here; I think there were more employees than visitors.
I could see some of the attractions but not altogether. It was hard to get s sense of the place, I had to piece it together in my mind. I would walk up upon each attraction and have more of the puzzle. As I walked around, I felt like a ghost.
It made for a fun excursion, but it mirrored the oddity of the park itself. It felt like being in some strange dreamlike universe where things were not as they are in the waking world.
If the weather isn’t right, it usually means there could be some interesting photos, and that’s why I went. I’m glad I did; had I gone when it was sunny, it would have been a lot of people, and I think it would have been a much more mundane experience.
Here’s a random beach scene from Lloret de Mar. Everybody seemed to be having way too much fun for a weekday.
However, people here are on some kind of vacation, so the day of the week is unimportant. I had just arrived on a redeye from the states; it was Thursday, I think. And, I was just getting warmed up to the whole vacation thing.
What better way to do that than take photos of others who are already warmed up. Eventually, I got into the rhythm of things, maybe even a little too much. By the time we left this town, I had managed to lose my passport, but that’s another story for another day.
In this case, I was in the town of Sitges, walking around on a Sunday. I was next to the main church that sits along the sea. Sunday notwithstanding, nobody was going in or out, just tourists, like me, walking around it, taking pictures, and practicing leisure.
There are loads of street performers up and down La Rambla, which made me think he was posing, yet he wasn’t collecting money. Now that I think of it, he probably works at one of the boutique hotels and was just taking a smoke break. Mystery solved.
These boats are in Collioure in Southern France. It’s a Catalonian village known for sardines, among other things.
After I took the photo, I saw a couple of street artists selling paintings of these same boats. They seem almost picture-perfect, almost as though they were placed here for effect. But that could just be my jaded view of things, and it’s not something the French are prone to do.
One of the primary industries here is sardines. The last time we came through, I ordered a plate of them at a seaside cafe. For all I know, these may be sardine boats that returned in the morning. The rest of the day, they are click-bait for photographers like me. That was a lame joke.
When in Barcelona, the last thing on my mind is taking photos of the sunset. However, if one presents itself, I’m more than happy to oblige.
This photo is another that I took from atop the Fira Renaissance. The hotel is outside the main tourist area, so most of the people here were attending conferences. They would come up to the rooftop pool to socialize during happy hour.
It still amazes me how structurally sound these buildings must be to support a pool on the top floor – water is so heavy. There is also an indoor pool on the floor below. I guess there is no limit to what people can dream and build.
Here are some people in the gothic quarter of Barcelona sitting outside at a tapas bar, talking late into the night.
Scenes like this occur over and over, and I think, are typical of Catalonian culture. Not that I’m an expert, but it seems quite friendly and puts a lot of value on spending time with family and friends.
It’s not difficult to see the appeal, especially in places like Barcelona. Sure, every area has its problems, but it’s fun to see different lifestyles and wonder what it would be like to live there, if only for a spell.
For panoramas to work, they need the right subject and, the Mediterranean is full of these kinds of scenes. I was here twice in September, once for an over-night and, a week later, to retrieve my lost passport. It was on the second trip that I made this. After I did, I went to an outdoor cafe facing the beach, not too far from KFC.
Probably the biggest festival of the year in Barcelona is La Mercè. Of course, we knew nothing about it until we were right in the middle of it.
We were walking around and stopped to listen to Melanie De Biasio perform a midnight concert in front of the main cathedral. Her music is a hypnotic jazz fusion that’s right down my alley. Like everything else, I’d never heard of her, but now she’s at the top of my playlist.
During the La Mercè, many of the major plazas host outdoor free concerts, plus there are fireworks and parades each night. It’s called the festival of festivals for a good reason. In my case, sometimes it’s better to be lucky than smart.
You haven’t seen Barcelona until you’ve seen and heard it at night. The combination of light, shadows, and music create an exotic enchantment that keeps me coming back for more.
The harpist played behind the main Cathedral, and it is here that, over the years, I have heard some of the most talented musicians. The night before, I listened to a couple of tenors belting out arias reverberating as in the best opera venues.
Here is where the greatest from all over Europe and America come to perform in front of passing nighttime crowds. The echoing acoustics of the gothic cathedral walls remind me of the New York subway; only here they don’t get drowned out by passing trains.