Beautiful Barcelona

Traveling for me had taken a back seat the past year or so. Definitely priorities change, so does the plans. The past few weeks, since August I kind of get to relive the bachelor days. My wife and kid back in India gave me plenty of time for myself. The weather gods of Ireland when are in a good mood, I make the most of it by Cycling or running. Winter is imminent and this good weather won’t last, So time to put the travellers hat back on. It was an impulsive decision looks at the cities I would like to visit and checked which of those destinations had the cheapest air fare. That was about it. From "what do I do four weekends from now?" to "booking done" was all over in mere thirty minutes. 

Barcelona it is, my best buddy had been there before. He seemed to have a good time there, so why not! Departure at the wee hours on twentieth of Friday and back by midnight of Monday. Three days and two nights. Now I had five weeks to look forward to this weekend. Never even bothered to make any plan as to what I must do when I get there. The previous evening of the departure is when I actually sort the tickets, Direction to the hotel and drafted a rough plan as to places to visit while I was there. 

Off I go!

On the very approach to the "El Prat" airport looking outside the window I could sense that I am in for some treat. The geography is vastly different to where I live. There are hills and valleys, lots of lush greenery. Streams and rivers cut the landscape dotted with small lakes all over. 

The weather was sunny and balmy as I got out and realised there was no need of a jacket here. It was an enjoyable seventeen degrees. The first hour of being in a foreign county is always anxious. That's due to the language barrier.  I was trying hard to figure out the stop I had to get off at. By the time I could understand where the name of each stop is mentioned, I had missed mine. But I was in good company of another newbie to Barcelona. He was Spanish. He looked at me clutching me to a print out and trying to look out at every stop. He assured me. " I am lost too" . That was comforting to me. He said, the bus heads to the El Spanya main station and we can figure out where ever we wanted to go from there. Kind soul he is. At the main station, not only could I figure out where I needed to get to, but also surprised that three days of Metro and Bus unlimited ticket is just twenty euros. No brainier!. Got off at the stop and to the hotel I had booked my stay. The receptionist was struggling at English but she more than made up for the the lack of easy communication by being extremely helpful. She was being even apologetic about it. I said, your intention to help a tourist like me is more than what any one new to town can ask for. 

By eleven I was up and about the town. The Hotel was right besides a massive square called fontella. The whole square was carpeted with hundreds  of pigeon. Opposite was the Hop on and Hop off  service. Given the weather was so good, I wasn't surprised that I had to queue up to buy a ticket to get on this bus. It had three routes, Red blue and green and a ticket would last two days to allow me to hop on to any of the routes as many number of times I liked .  Sounded Perfect !. 

Plan was to get on to this tour bus that day on all routes and make note of all the places that would interest me. Got on to the bus and each round trip would take more than an hour.  

On the map, noted down the stops that I wanted to get off and finished both the routes. (Green route was not in service) It was evening and Barcelona city centre does not have one high street, it has several. I went about exploring. In light of the Paris attacks the city was definitely on high alert. Police was deployed everywhere. I definitely did not look like a local and I definitely I got plenty of glances. I don't mind that. I, in fact admire them for the tough job that they have ahead. The city was not sparsely populated in anyway. Hundreds of thousands of people, mostly tourists flocked the streets. On the Red route, I got off at a stop atop Montjuïc. It was due to the mention of a cable car. Got into one which stopped at a castle at the top of the Mountain.

The castle had few cannons but nothing much to offer. What it had in abundance was a view. We could see for hundreds of kilometres across the ocean horizon on one side. The other side had the entire city in full view. That is why this has to be the most strategic location for any castle with big BIG guns! The port below was bustling so was the city on the other side.

The evening of the first day, wandered into the market area where local artisans had lot to exhibit. Meandering into the packed streets, I ended up at the farmers market. It was a good find by me. The dry fruits, Chocolates, sea food shops were a delight to see. Even my camera would have been happy.

it was hard to find any good vegetarian food, so had to settle for some salad and fruits and ended my day. I slept like a log.

The following morning, headed out by nine straight to the bus.  Few observations I made during the day tour was, First, the selfie sticks domination. Every tourist had one. Never seen such an invasion of a weird apparatus before on such scale.  Second observation was that Catalans (Barcelona a.k.a Cataluña ) did not take to bicycles as other cities, such as Dublin, Paris, Amsterdam or London has taken to. It has to be because of the gradients all over the city. Barcelona a is locked by two hills on either sides and sea on the other side, so the only flat transport surface is by the sea coast.Third was few of the high streets were lined with orange trees, with real oranges hanging off its branches. Not few, but several!! 

My first stop was the iconic "Sagrada Familia” The presence of such a massive cathedral dwarfed every other structure around it. I was fascinated by the rear facade, which was still under construction.

The sculptures did not looks like from a by gone ear. It had a more modern touch to it. Apparently the construction of this land mark has been going on for centuries. It’s all the contribution of the visitors that keeps the work going on. After purchasing the ticket I realised that I was at the rear entrance. Had to walk around to get to the front entrance. Awe struck is an understatement. It was beautiful the work was from a bygone era. Standing in front of this massive structure and trying to look at the top of the tower gave me a neck ache. The security was tight and as part of a "Random" check I was patted down and bags all checked twice. I always knew that I wear a look of a thief or someone who is up to some mischief. I don't blame them for it, because my default look would not inspire confidence to any security personnel. The inside was surprisingly not as large as what it looked from outside. Pictures would speak well than what I can ever describe.

Headed out and the next stop was Mount Tibidabo.  Anything to do with scaling heights, I am there. A bus took us to the stop where we get the "Funicular”. I kept thinking Funicular was the name of the place, but actually it means a cable car. There for the first time I witnessed a train coach designed at an angle. It has stairs in it. Hopped on to it, for some spectacular views. At the top of Mount Tibidabo it gave me the perspective from the opposite end to what I enjoyed the day before from Montjuïc. There was a theme park at the op and two church. From here we could see the TV tower, a beautiful structure in itself designed by Sir Norman Foster. Fast winds up there made sure I did not hag about for long. The view from the church showed that the city of Barcelona had lot of fauna behind these mountains. For the residents of this city what a fabulous opportunity to explore the wilderness. 

Back on the bus after the decent straight to Camp Nou. I admit, that I am not much into football, but I always had an interest into what these venues would look like. The power for such a structure to entice more than one hundred thousand people in this case is something not to be noticed. FC Barcelona stadium is the largest in Europe. Once I was in, I was gently being introduced to what this place is all about. This is the place where great players are from. Ronaldino, Messi, Piqué are to name a few. 

A century old club this one had a lot of exhibits. The first cup dating all the way from 1902. The audio visual room was also well equipped. I found myself spending half hour in front of a touch interactive massive screen where one could pull up the video clips of the goals scored. Very entertaining it was. Had a tour of the massive stadium at the visitor level, from the directors’ box level and also from the dugout. Spectacular!  I was keen on buying some merchandise, but then feared from who I would put off, if they had known. First of all I am not a fan boy. 

Day two was drawing to an end. The monastery and the 1980's industrial museum did not excite me but I had one more place of interest. The "Barcelona Cathedral" It was a historic monument from the seventeen hundreds. The place was so busy that I had to queue up for forty five minutes. But it was worth it. What makes me wonder is what these kind of ancient structures have witnessed. The times they have been through and the millions of people who would have gone in and out of the doors and an exponential numbers of prayers being rendered here. 

I walked back to the square, walking around was a good way to explore. Spent the dusk at the fontella square clicking away pictures of the colourful fountains. Grabbed something to eat as well as some snacks and retired to the hotel. 

Day three, the final day.Checked out at nine, but left my luggage and straight to the history museum. Doors open at half nine and I was at the station Closest to the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya by Nine. The museum was once the place of the kings and what a place it was. Could not be at a better location. Half way up the Montjuïc. Overlooking the city and the grand entrance. A sports event was ongoing and I was lucky enough to witness the lead runner come up. ten kilometers in thirty minutes. Made a note to myslf, next time I visit some place I must try to participate in such events. Such events will hold the memory longer than pictures for me. The History museum had several  sections and it took em three hours just to get around the place. Not as massive as the museum at London or Amsterdam, but much bigger than the one at Dublin . The museum also had a theatre within it which was so grand that it looked straight of out movies. The place was being set up for most probably a musical concert of some kind.

After the tour, I let myself down the stairs to the bottom of the hill. The Barcelona arena was there, and I got to the top of that as well and had a look at the city and the park. Just adding another perspective.

Later that day, I spent walking around the harbour side, having some food, enjoying the music that was being played and the sun. It was long walk to the beach side and enjoyed the view. The surfers were making most of the waves and the clear water. 

What way way to relax and end my tour, i thought to myself. the whole walk way was lined with nothing but restaurants. For the sea food lovers this place is a heaven. Not a vegetarian like me. Spoilt for choices were the tourists. I walked back to the hotel, took my luggage and headed to the square to just see the people with their kids have a good time. Chatted up with a French national who was also a tourist like me and that drew us close to the departure time. Headed to the airport and jumped into the quarter past nine plane bidding goodbye to the city that offered such , good weather, sun and food not to mention fantastic places to visit. I dozed off as soon I was in the seat. Touch down at Dublin at mid night, out of the door the first sight was screen. It mentioned the weather condition of Dublin. It read "Dublin 0 degrees with spells of rain" !! Welcome to reality I told myself!

Illusory Red Balloons

"What is with this four hour mark that seems to move further away the more harder you try to get close to it ? " This is a question that I have been asking myself the past few weeks. I am sure it will stop once 2016 begins and I get my trainers back on. But this four hour mark still eludes me.
The Dublin 2015 Marathon took place over the bank holiday weekend on 26th of October.
Like the other years gone by, training was in place. I kept upping the ante every weekend after another so that the four hour mark is achievable. . Talking about training, its a highly questionable topic amidst my mates. That is because the training plan, is what I make of it, not something that is downloaded. I know better half of my consciousness is telling  me that, training is something that is a highly regimented affair. By the book, come rain, sun or snow, it has to be adhered to. That is what the training plan that many sites offer. It makes so accommodation for really bad weather, family affairs, or work load at office. Most important of all , there is no options to key in for Wife's mood.  On the other had, the stubborn consciousness of mine is thinking, that enjoy the run but not at the cost of your family time, or your own R and R time.
This year, as usual I stuck to my own training plan. that is start running early June, twice a week when its summer and once a week by end of August. Only target is do longer distances each week and slightly better time each of the weeks. Plain and simple. Longer and a little faster. Its not that hard not to follow or complicated to miss it.
The weather this year has been very good. we had very good summer, started off the year with a ten kilometer race at phoenix park which was decent. The race where my pregnant wife was at the finish line to welcome me. Weekend after weekend, the running distance kept getting longer and it was done in better time as well. That was good confidence booster for me. I did not want to break that routine so much so, that I even took trainers and sports watch on my visit to India. I did a good thirteen kilometer run from my little farm house in Kerala to the house of my Mrs. It was a surprise to all of them, because no one else has ever pulled off such a stunt there. The only occasion people in the country side have seen a man running is, if he was chased by police or Dogs or had an emergency loo situation.  Headed out at half six, Few dogs chased me, but I out ran them. people were giving me weird looks. My cousin who was driving along that route, stopped by to offer me a lift "while I was running" , bless him.

Back to Dublin by first week of September and the running continued. Since my wife and Daughter did not fly back with me, that meant I had lot of time on weekends to get this running going. I had also jumped into the cycling sport and kept that going on weekdays and running on weekends.
The running distances, were easily twenty kilometer plus on the final eight weeks. I was pretty confident and on the penultimate week of the race I ran for thirty two kilometer in three hour five minutes. I thought to myself, this is good time and all I had was another ten kilometer, so getting to the four hour mark should definitely be possible, if not easy. The confidence in me was really strong, and I kept telling myself that I have done a good job training and the set goal was very achievable.

The race pack was picked up from RDS next door.  There were lot of participants this time, I could tell. The crowd was huge. fifteen thousand runners this year which is a record in the Dublin Marathon history.  This was the thirty seventh Dublin Marathon .There was lots of tips and advice that I picked up from the organizers there. I had even made note of the colour of the four hour pace keeper balloons. It was RED.
The forecast on the race day was not great for folks who wanted to be around the race route to cheer the runners, but speaking for myself the weather was just perfect. Just what I wanted. Overcast sky, and the fine misty rain.
I cycled to the start line. Parked it in a bad location, in terms of getting back to after the race. On route I saw the twenty six mile marker tied to the light pole. I had a good look at it and even touched it, thinking it might being be good luck. Emptied by bladder one last time and took my place in the green wave. Five minutes before we started moving, I consumed a banana got rid of the extra layer I was wearing and off we went. The enthusiasm in the air was palpable. The dark skies made no difference to the moods of the thousands. All running with a smile, because now, there is no looking back. The route was slightly modified this time. In my opinion this was the best course so far in all these years. The long run from Pheonix park from end to end and loop back into the park was one of the best. It was a steady climb but very good. the ten kilometer mark came up there. My pace the first 10K was off by a couple of minutes  because, it was all the crowd that was slowing me down. The second 10K was on target. The runners had thinned out. The cloudy skies made sure that I was not dehydrating fast and the rain kept the face washed from the sweaty salts. The organizers had made sure to have water stations and lucozade stations well spaced out.
Most of the course, I was sticking with the four hour pace keepers. That means that at the thirty two kilometer mark I was at three hour mark and along side the pace keepers. That meant it was all going as per plan. Hurray!! Just another ten kilometer

Now the rest of it is on the record and it speaks for itself. My legs were not hurting but my energy levels were going down. I saw the pace keepers going further and further away by the kilometer. Finally the balloons were like a red dot to me. My intake of Gels along with sipping of water was not helping me much. It was a mental battle within myself, one saying "don't push yourself you are fine". My eyes were on my heart rate and I did not want to let that exceed 185 bpm at any point. I thought letting it cross that zone will cause damage and might become extremely tired to get to the finish line. Yes, that was me thinking all of that in the last ten kilometer of the race.
Every time the heart rate reached 185 I would slow down to a brisk walk to get the rate back to 165, then I would pick up again. This killed the good pace I was maintaining. the last five kilometer was on familiar ground for me. A right from N11 into Nutely lane followed  by Merrion road. Latter being the most favorite road of mine. This time, the course was straight down Merrion road towards Merrion Square. On that road is when the wretched green balloons, four hour ten minute pace keeping balloons went past me. I definitely had missed the target time. Crossed the finish line, thanking the gods above, who saw to it that I finished it.
My energy levels was not at zero, rested there for a bit, collected my medal and T shirt. The thing that I wanted the most out of this race. All that effort and sweat and one pair of trainers for that shiny piece of Metal.

Collected goodie bag which had one of the worst ever made cakes in it. It felt like I had shoved in a hand full of sand into my mouth. The only downer for me in the entire event organisation. The rest of all it was arranged in a splendid fashion. No complaints, what so ever except for that horrible cake.
My good mate, Mihir and Kate were there to greet at the meeting point. It was definitely encouraging to have some one there to congratulate and give you a hug.  Getting back to my bike which was on the other side of the race was a nightmare. Tried persuading the gardas, but no joy there. Got to my bike some how and cycled back home.
Stuffed myself with loads of food and had a long nap, only to wake up thinking of race again. Only consolation to myself was I fished the race few minutes better than the 2014 run. So, that's not too bad. Switched on my laptop and looked at the marathon training plan I had downloaded earlier the year.
Then said to myself " Bloody Red Balloons, I will get you next year"