Barcelona Redux X Paris 2X

In 2019, a year after our Spain trip, it was time for another European adventure. Paris-Barcelona-Paris-Home. Three weeks of a magical adventure.

I love Paris and apparently, I was determined to drag Russ around to everything near and dear to my heart. In my mind what a better way to trounce jet lag than to venture out on the morning of arrival. Our objective: to see Jim Morrison’s grave and the top of the Eiffel Tower. Two prior trips to Paris had failed to accomplish these goals, so after an unplanned first adventure consisting of 3 hours of international calls to get the credit cards functioning, we were off to Cimetière du Père-Lachaise.

Jim

It was the perfect cemetery day. Overcast with Père-Lachaise’s cackling crows setting the scene. We stumbled upon Chopin and several others of note on our pilgrimage to find Jim. Even on a blustery day, Morrison’s gravesite had an entourage.

Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, and Other Sites

No time for slackers so next up, summiting the Eiffel Tower. A must do one time…even if it’s cold. Bonus points because you can toast your accomplishment with overpriced champagne if you so choose.

This first “leg” of Paris was jammed packed with adventure. And protests. 2019 was a high point for Les Gilets Jaunes (yellow vests) protests. With our Paris pass in hand, we set out by taxi to tour the Arc de Triomphe. Unlucky for us, we had an inexperienced taxi driver who didn’t realize that she should have dropped us by the underground pedestrian tunnels, not off directly at the Arc.

Smack into what looked like a battalion of gendarmes who were none to pleased with our presence. Les gendarmes pointed their semi-automatic rifles at Russ and I and made it clear that our best course of action was to cross the 6 or so lanes of chaotic traffic surrounding the Arc immediately if not sooner. We complied.

Having lived to see another day, Russ and I proceeded to play tourist to the hilt. Highlights included the Tuileries Christmas Fair Ferris Wheel ride, Musee du Louvre, shopping at Galleries Lafayette, les Bateaux Mouches boat tour on the Seine, and Musées Rodin, Picasso and d’Orsay. I told you I was determined to expose Russ to Paris!

Normandy

Then time for a more serious bucket list item: a day trip to Normandy and the main American Cemetery. Profoundly touching, the white crosses and stars of David led to tears streaming down my face. And the vista of the impossible task of taking on the Germans from their high ground above the beaches led to more.

Barcelona

Next up, a flight to sunny Barcelona. The staff at the delightful Yurbban Trafalgar, where we were repeat customers, warmly welcomed us. Russ was in his element, and his love of Barcelona was clear. We were on a mission – discover if we could actually live in this city and step one in the process was a private tour.

Our guide Joana admitted she had never received directions like ours: give a tour of Barcelona from the perspective of a prospective resident, someone wanting to live in the city. Show us the stuff of life, not the tourist sites. The markets, the housing close to greenspace for puppers and humans alike, and areas where public transportation would allow life without a car. Joana rose to the occasion; we left her capable hands knowing an area where we could live, where the best local churros were located, where we could go to market, and Russ even bought a pair of shoes at local shop.

Not to be outdone by our Paris frenzy of sightseeing, we proceeded to see everything we had missed the first time in Barcelona. The Zoo. La Pedrera. A Salvador Dali daytrip to Girona + Figueres.

Messi!

And at last, a Russ bucket list item, Champion League football at Camp Nou in Barcelona, including seeing the iconic Messi!

Back to Paris

And in an instant, back to Paris in time for Russ’s birthday and a guided tour of Montmartre and Sacre Coeur. This was pure fun. Our guide Thierry came highly recommended through Rick Steves’s Travel Guides and was charming, knowledgeable – a true gem.

It was time to go home, and our thought process continued to develop around what parameters were critical to success for us to move abroad. One of those was the necessity of learning the language of wherever we wound up as our “map dot.” Neither Russ nor I wanted to be the stereotypical American, arrogantly expecting our new home to speak English for us.

That posed a problem for me with Barcelona. Not only would I have to learn Castilian Spanish, but the people of Barcelona preferred their native Catalan. I’m not a language wiz, unfortunately far from it. Two languages seemed daunting. I did, however, have a base of French in high school and college. I began not so silently rooting for a French Revolution in our map dot decision.