A typical Spanish breakfast is carbohydrate and fat-laden, a supposed hangover cure for the party-goers. It is admittedly, the thickest chocolate I’ve ever seen, the secret (according to the waiter) being cold milk that must be stirred in for consistency.
It has become my morning drug of choice, for as long as I’m here.
The decay of the city becomes apparent once one moves further away from the touristic nerve towards the western elevated area called Montjuic. The Raval region just right of the Ramblas is home to an incredible number of immigrants, and in the Raval Square, drug pushers and abusers abound. The port area is a mystery – a mega hang-out, lots of boats, bordering an area that is seedy. In the morning sun however, the sheen of the Mediterranean is felt more than the rampant drug use. To the right of the port is the Barri Gotic area, the oldest part of Barcelona, built on top of the Roman ruins.
The largeness of Barcelona is nonetheless surprising, seen from Montjuic. Montjuic is home to a number of landmarks, most notably the olympic stadium and a couple of art museums. It is an impressive sight, especially if the walk up from the Plaza Espanya is taken towards the New York Metropolitan museum of art.