Melting in Barcelona - 10 August 2004

Every time I need a break before (or after) some stressing work session, I go to Barcelona. Twice in 3 years. In few weeks I will shoot my western. Better relax now.

Day 2 - Swimming Saturday

The cable car towerFrom the funicularNew day. The plan was simple: morning on Montjuic, the hill overlooking the city centre and the port of Barcelona, and the rest of the afternoon on the beach.
After a satisfying breakfast (food is really on another planet), we moved to the barceloneta to get the cable car called the funicular. The trip alone, suspended over the port, was worth the ticket. I remember when I was younger and I was afraid of the heights (and then I did bungee-jumping from 175m to finally beat my fears), but this time I couldn't stop observing this beautiful city from a completely different point of view. View from the cable carIn such a hot morning, every little movement by a car, a bicycle or someone walking around, was relaxed, peaceful, without the frentic rhythm of London or Milan. The sun was already high, and after the 15 minutes trip me and Lindsey had to relax for a while drinking water and trying to not get melted (ice creams always help). Walking in the Olympic park I finally found the best swimming pool in the world. I remember watching it on telly when I was 15 (1992, Olympic games) and wondering what the hell was it.
The best pool in the wordThe fantastic pictures taken back then on the sport magazines were my favoruite picture of the whole olympic weeks. Just take a look at the picture to understand why that swimming pool is so cool.
Anyway, another (smaller) cable cubicle and the top of the hill, with some museum and some other intersting stuff, was our. The view of the beach from there was very nice. But I couldn't find any icecream shops, and after just 15 minutes we decided to walk down, cause I forgot to but the tickets to get back, and, without cash machines, we hadn't really any different option. Few hours later (yes, we stopped a lot), we were back in the motel, ready to get our swimming stuff out and go to the beach. I was very excited cause
1) I'm not a beach guy, I always preferred rivers and lakes and mountains
2)it was so hot I was desperate to refresh myself swimming in the sea
3) I was just wondering if the cocktail bar from the night before was still open with its nice cocktails...

The beachIn the afternoon we set up our base in Barceloneta, and few minutes after I was already diving in the sea. And, like everyone Olaf Thorpewho doesn't really often go to sea, I was shocked by the dimension of the waves (almost 35 cm! there is not such a thing like "a wave" in the lakes!) and by the amount of salt in the water. How the hell can people swim in that blue salty heinz soup? I couldn't understand how to keep my mouth shut and breath. And everytime I managed it, I was almost drowned by a wave. Lindsey, however, seemed much more comfortable than me. She said back at home the waves were much bigger, but I told her that big waves are only in cinemas... (yes, I know she's right, but I was already shocked but those small waves. Very annoying!).
We fried ourselves on the beach, swimming only when had to, and we finally left the beach in the evening.
The rest of the night was spent walking, drinking and chatting about, well, stuff. Sorry, I was more focused on drinks than on chatting. I'm a man, not my fault.
Even the night seemed less hot and sweaty and then cold than normally, in that crazy hostel.

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