This is the meaning of Ancient

I mean, like, everything here in Barcelona has a history. You walk and the sidewalk has been trod on for a thousand years. The walls of some buildings are five hundred or more years old. I can´t get over it. Sarah and I walked around the Picasso Museum which is housed in a 13th century palace. We ran our hands along the cold stone walls.

I´ve never been around such an old bldg, I said to Sarah.

That´s cuz you´ve never been to Europe, she said.

I mean, I really could not get over it.

The museum cost 18E for the two of us. Hurry, said the guard, it closes at 8 o´clock. We had plenty of time, actually, nearly 2 hours, which is about all my feet could take. We Metro´d over and walked thru an incredibly long indoor tunnel to switch trains. Per my travel guru Rick Steves I carried a money belt, aka fanny pack, in which I keep my euros, my camera, and my hanky. I do not wanna get my money stolen.

The Picasso museum is billed by our travel guide as the most comprehensive collection of his work tho not the best collection. It shows his earliest works including the famous The First Communion (I´d never heard of it either) which he painted at age 16. Pablo Ruiz Picasso (1881-1973) was a child prodigy. Strongly encouraged as a child, his paintings went thru many phases, all shown at this museum, including his blue period and his rose period. His ceramics are also on display - fabulously colored pitchers and platters.

My sister Donna, a gifted potter, should come here to be inspired, I said to Sarah. Yeah, she said, Donna is really talented.

Picasso, like all artists, had his own favorites including fellow Spaniard Velasquez. The museum showed a couple of V´s paintings and Picasso´s own take on them. In one fit of painting, Picasso did 58 variations on a V painting that had a girl in a yellow dress.

Sarah and I were in awe. It is good to travel with someone who loves art as much as I do.

And food. Afterward we ate at another one of those restaurant bars, this one recommended by Reid Anderson, the bassist in Ethan´s band, who lived in Barcelona for a couple years. We waited about 35 minutes for a table, standing up of course leaning against a mirrored wall, until the owner motioned for us to sit at the counter. We watched the food being prepared as the owner ordered several courses for us.

We´ve learned that There is no bad food in Barcelona. Everything is tasty. My favorite was the grilled haik (I had actually bought my first haik recently and put it in my fish chowder) but this haik, well, this haik, was quite something, much more succulent with its olive oil garlic sauce and side of potatoes.

Sarah, I said. I am not kidding. These are the best potatoes I´ve ever eaten in my life.

You better not eat too many Mom, she said. Sarah knows my diet plan - taters are high in potassium which I must limit.

I know, Sarah, I said. I´m planning on having dialysis the day after I come home.

It was my choice whether or not we wanted dessert and basically the owner insisted so we got flan with a very crispy glacine crust that melted in your mouth. My friend Helene is famous for her flan. Wait´ll I tell her about this flan. First of all, the portion was huge. Sarah and I spooned it out together, she quitting first while I scraped up every last delicious bite.

Then our ramble around this hip and fancy part of town and its beautiful shops encased in ancient architecture. Beautiful high glass doors and windows that gave glimpses into specialty shops. Along one rather dark side street - it was now around 9 in the evening - did I tell you Spaniards stay out very very late? We stopped in an art gallery run by Prudenci Sanchez.

The artist sat in the back at his laptop amid a huge spread of catalogs. Sarah loved his jewelry and selected something for herself but he said it was too complicated to run her credit card. I was on the other end of the shop admiring his paintings so I didn´t hear the story. But I did hear them speaking Spanish together.

What a little tiger my daughter is. She doesn´t even know Spanish, yet she dares to speak it! On and on they talked. Barceloneans stand very close to you when they speak. I came over to them and asked Prudenci a question. I was so tongue-tied - it´s really quite difficult when you can´t speak the language - that my question came out in fractured French. ´vos oeuvres´I managed to say.

Ah, he said, noting he speaks French better than English. His works, he said, are sold in NY, San Francisco, and many other galleries. I asked how much my favorite painting of his was - a female nude - and he said 800E. Later I said to Sarah, that´s not bad, but she reminded me the euro is worth about 40 percent more than our dollar.

We took a cab home.

Aren´t you gonna tip him, I asked Sarah when very handsome hansom driver let us off at the hotel?

Sarah explained that the tipping system works differently in Europe. People earn more so they´re not so dependent on tips as Americans are.

Tomorrow is our last day in Barcelona. On Saturday we´ll board the ship. We keep the Do not disturb sign on our hotel door as our clothes are spread out all over the room. What a great and forceful shower we have in the bathroom. Nothing like a refreshing hot shower after you´ve been tramping around from morning till night.

We sat on a bench in the square outside the museum. It was around 9 o´clock. People were swarming around, a few babies in strollers, babies on the shoulders of their dads, not too many babies, but you notice them if you´re a woman, it´s in the genes, and I said something like, Gosh, Sarah, I can´t believe we´re in Barcelona, so far from home. But it doesn´t really feel far from home. It feels like it´s right next door.

We walked some more. Small shops are what you find. Some nothing more than a hole in the wall like the gelati shop we found with the revolving containers of flavor. We ordered a small one with two flavors - toffee and cream with chocolate chunks.

For the first gelati I ever tasted, this girl was swooning. Sarah and I shared it until we came to one of the very infrequent trash containers.

Mom, she said, you better throw it out. Your diet, you know.

Thanks, Sarah, I said spooning out a last rich and tasty cold bite. I was gonna do it in a bit but you´re right I´ll do it now, tossing the red cup filled halfway with gelati into the trash.