Barcelona

My day started in with the watch commencing at 2 a.m. once again and I contemplate how amazing it is that your body clock can adapt and become accustomed to watch systems. I have always liked the watches whereby you witness the setting of the sun in the evening and the rising of the sun in morning, and with it the movement of the stars and cycle of the moon. That statement might sound a little simplistic, however I have found that day and night to some extent can become blurred, and with it the passage of time. As a result, I would express a preference for these watches whereas many would not.

The night was less dull and moonlight was taking away some of the darkness of previous nights. With little wind and under engine and full main we abeam of Valencia and were approaching the Islas Columbretes, a small group of islands about 30 nautical miles off the Spanish coast. With the proximity of Valencia and Barcelona there was an noted increase in the shipping traffic and fishing boats were much in evidence.

As the morning approached the wind began to increase and by mid morning we were once again under full sail making good speed towards Barcelona. Our progress northeastwards also naturally caused a convergence with the coast which provided a little more diversion and interest, as gradually features of the city of Barcelona came into view.

One of our number was stepping off in Barcelona and was on a 10 p.m. flight out. This was not going to be an easy flight time to meet as a considerable amount of time is lost entering port complying with speed limits and then docking. Thus as our approach to Barcelona brought us under the main flightpath to the airport , every so we would often poke fun at the expense of the nervous prospective passenger, querying if the plane overhead was the one he intended to catch. Afterall it had to be one of the few Easyjet aircraft that were landing at this time afterall!


We made it to the dock a little after 8 p.m. releasing our onward bound crew member. After a quick tidy up, wash, and finding some relatively clean clothes to wear we ventured up the town to find a bite to eat before retiring. I had been in Barcelona briefly two years ago, and after venturing around the side streets and back streets had happened upon a restaurant called Los Caracolles. Having smelled the wood fired oven on the exterior walls and seen the old cooking ranges I knew I would not be disappointed. On this evening likewise, I knew I would not be disappointed and chose the calamarines (deep fried baby squid) with a little rose wine, and a creme catalana to bring the night to a close.


13th June began a little misty and dull and the weather forecast was not good. There were strong winds forecast in the Gulf of Lyons, where the seas can become quite steep and destructive and with three crew we would be quite exposed in those conditions. We opted to tend to a number of jobs on board and take the opportunity to explore a little.

I decided to go to the Boqueria St Josef, a large covered market in the center of Barcelona just off La Ramblas. The market was a maze of colour and stalls, selling everything you could possibly need. The center of the Boqueria St Josef is dominated by a fish market, and the icy stalls displayed a rich and varied catch of the freshest fish. The translucent meat of the portions of tuna, swordfish and bonito was of an entirely different quality to any I had seen before. The colours looked natural and texture of the meat had not become waxen or dull.

It was easy to be amazed for a long time and I admit to taking over half an hour before selecting some swordfish to cook for the dinner that night. I had not for a long time experienced such a luxury or pleasure in buying fish, and where quality normally causes me difficulty and unease, here I was seduced by the choice and variety of the fish on display.

In North Western Europe we have succumbed to convenience and with it we depend on large supermarkets or "convenience" stores. These methods of food selling, in my view, suppress choice. The Barcelona markets, and and others like it, allow many sellers to evolve and specialise while competing amongst each other often under the same roof. As a result choice, quality and product are all excellent. One such example of this are the Bacalao sellers; there are three if not more stalls selling Bacalao (salted cod) in the Boqueria St Josef. All of them are quite different and distinctive in their own way and service they provide, and at the same time demonstrate skill in the manner in which they treat and present and sell the cod.

Back on the dock servicing and investigations had revealed a number of underlying problems with the engine. Ordinarily these problems would not provide any great difficulty, but were an inconvenience, and the symptoms had been recognized for a number of days. It was however acknowledged that attention and an overhaul was required. Swordfish and salad was served once the engine oil and grease had been removed from the the crew and the weather forecast was considered again with a possible planned departure the next morning.

June 14th was bright sunny and warm in Barcelona and I got back into town early to go to the Santa Catalina, which was a little closer to where the boat was docked. The last time I was here it was closed for renovation but thankfully had since reopened. It was much brighter and more modern than the Boqueria St Josef, and again proved to be an excellent place to reprovision with necessaries such as local bread, cured ham, fish and vegetables for the short trip north to the French coast.

The market is quite a bit smaller and as such serves the community and quarters of the city close by. Again the fish stalls were stocked with a vast assortment and some of the fishmongers showed great skill in cleaning and presenting small anchovies for sale. Many varieties of tomatoes were on display and the most interesting of them was the variety grown at Montserrat nearby, also known as the coeur du boeuf or beef tomato. Their appearance was not mere fancy and they were full flavour.
A number of Spanish and French weather forecasts were again studied and compared prior to departure. Although the passage was a relatively short one no risks could be taken in these waters. It appeared that most of the wind would be present in the mid and eastern sector of the Gulf of Lyon while the French coast, essentially the Cote Vermeille would escape. After refueling we set off, and once again set our fishing lines in the hope of catching fish, proceeding north eastwards in the direction of Cap de Begur with the Costa Brava on our port side.