The Pope’s visit.
Well is this my place to rant, so I suppose I should give vent to my disgust that this man is allowed to come here on a state visit, paid by my taxes. This man actively supports genocide of the African race by endorsing misinformation that condoms are porous and allow the HIV/AIDS virus thru, therefore provide no protection against this horrific disease. A man who is overtly homophobic claiming that those who insist on continuing this behaviour (like they have a choice!) are inherently evil and a person who denys women the right to choose what happens over their own body. What I find so sickening is that if this guy was a Muslim with these beliefs he would probably not be allowed in this country let alone be on a state visit with our Monarchy.
Not only is the actual man heinous in his opinions, he is head of the most contradictory and blasphemous religion. If the young Jewish carpenter lived today, he would be shunned by this church and he would be ashamed of its riches. It purports to be a supporter of the poor then why does it ensure that those remain poor whilst its bishops sit on piles of gold - quite literally.
It is a sad sad day when we as a liberal, tolerant nation allow this fascist into our country! We are a country of free speech of course, but as long as it does not incite hatred, sadly he incites hatred!
WOW
Finely I getting all my pages hooked, slowly slowly catchy monkey, I may even start understanding RSS feeds and URLs you never know!
BARCELONA - A WONDERFUL & BEAUTIFUL PLACE
My long weekend to Barcelona, Spain, and the adventures that were had. 10/06/10 to 14/06/10
Well, the start of the holiday really didn’t go too well.
The first hazard to overcome was the ridiculous security at Heathrow. I had foolishly bought a bottle of water to ease my thirst whilst waiting for the flight, completely forgetting the ban on any liquids in hand luggage. So, an unopened bottle of water was given over to the security guard. She looked at me and suggested that I may want to gulp it down before going through. I suggested that this would be a stupid idea and that it was my fault in the first place for not remembering such a daft rule. Martha then pointed out that the mat we were standing on was rather spongy. Immediately I jumped to the conclusion that they were doing a full body x-ray. In a panic I asked the guard, who informed me that this was not the case, but over at international flights was where they were starting to use them. She then proceeded to tell me to remove my bracelet. As it was silver and I had so much other stuff on, I said that I would not, if I made it beep then they could search me. Across the barrier I heard another voice informing me that the bracelet should be removed immediately and my belt too. I then became rather stroppy and childlike, arguing with her whilst doing as I was told. I walked through the bleeping machine and failed to set if off. However, the woman who had butted into the conversation now insisted that if god forbid if anything happened to me I would be first complain, at this point, sadly, I swore at her. Realising what I had done, I repeated the sentence without resorting to foul language. She then insisted that she was not talking to me but a fellow employee who was now quite upset. I suggested that if she was prone to be upset that easily then she should refrain from working with the public. Upon which I turned and left the security area.
I was sooooo angry with the whole set up. It is just crazy, if someone wanted to blow up an aircraft, they would. The other point being that the aeroplanes used in the 9/11 were hijacked not bombed! Does my bloody head in!
Anyway, once I managed to get a coffee down me, I began to feel much better and we headed over to the relevant gate and awaited the Lufthansa flight we were booked on to. Whilst waiting at the gate, I notice three police officers hanging around. I started to get slightly paranoid about the incident that may have warranted the officers becoming involved. I was so relieved when we boarded the plane without being arrested.
We flew from Heathrow to Munich, arriving with only 10 minutes to spare, so no German beer on this trip. Running to the other end of the terminal, we jumped on a Spanair flight to Barcelona!
We arrived in 31 degrees of heat, very pleased that it was so sunny. After a debate whether to get bus or train, we opted for the bus purchasing a five day travel card for our stay. We took the bus to Europa Square where we changed to the Metro. By this time I had sussed that I should’ve used my rucksack rather than the holdall, although I managed to get it on my back with the handles over the shoulder. The damned thing was very heavy tho.
Finally arrived at the Gothica Youth Hostel at about 6:00pm. I discovered that I would be sleeping in a top bunk. Which, had it been a real top bunk would not have been so daunting, however, this was a mezzanine floor with a narrow step ladder to climb. Initially I thought that I would be able to cope with this, so proceeded to unpack my bag and organise my sleeping arrangements.
As you can see it is rather high, that’s the light fitting.
The scary step ladder that I would be required to climb, every time I needed to leave the sleeping quarters. It definitely was an ordeal, particularly during the night.
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Once we were settled, we decided that our stomachs needed sating, so off we went into the heart of Barcelona looking for food. As we wanted to relax in the evening sun, we headed to the marina. We found a cheap restaurant giving away a free glass of sangria, which immediately appealed to us both. Sadly though, Martha found the calamari she had eaten did not agree with her, that, although she liked it in general, she felt this particular dish had turned her off it.
After finishing our meal, we continued looking around the marina at the beautiful boats moored up. We then headed back into the old town. Martha was on a mission, she was wishing to fulfil one need that she had whilst staying in this great Spanish city…..Sangria, not just any old sangria but Sangria de Cava.
We eventually arrived in one square that was edged by bars and eateries. We wandered up to the menus on display to see whether a: they did the Cava and b: how much. To Martha’s shock, one place quoted 30 euros for a jug. She scoffed at this, understanding that if you had such good Cava, you would never put into a sangria mix, by this time, however, we were desparate, so ordered the normal red wine sangria. The Cava would have to wait. Once we were sated and entertained, we returned to our hostel to get some shut-eye.
We decided to see how the weather would be before planning our next foray into the city. The following day, Friday was not appropriate for lazing on the beach as it was raining. This helped us decide to explore a park that had influences from Barcelona’s greatest sons’ Gaudi; Park de la Ciudadella:
This park is situated in the Barri Gotic, and you can find many huge, important museums of art and culture, and even a great lake where you can rent boats. This was originally a fortress made in the shape of a star, built for King Felipe V in 1715. But after an 18 month seige the fortress fell, and after a while it was a hated symbol of oppression for the locals. Under the Napoleonic regime it was used as a prison. General Prim destroyed the Citadel in 1878, and a statue was erected to him on the spot. Now this is a public garden and exhibition space. You can find palaces of typical Spanish architecture filled with art here. In 1888 the park was used for the Universal Exhibition and many of the beautiful buildings were constructed for that. The gardens and fountains were also designed in that time, partly by a very young Gaudí.
As the weather became brighter we chose to continue our Gaudi day, and complete the modernist route of Barcelona, really take in the culture of such a beautiful city. It was whilst admiring the architecture that I began to fall in love with all that is Catalonian. We walked for miles this day and saw so much. From the Sagradia Familia that became Gaudi’s life work in 1882 till his death in 1926, the building of which continues to this day. (Bugger living round that and hoping that the building work would stop soon.) To his more approachable buildings in the more fashionable shopping areas around Barcelona, all of which were way too pricey for the likes of us peasants to wonder around in and admire the work. However, I did manage to buy a top in Mango, had to considering it is Spanish!
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