Life underground     

After one month of ubers, which can be insanely expensive, and taxis, which, while much cheaper, were costing me $20 or more per day, I decided it was time to go underground and learn the Metro. It’s cheap and clean and efficient, and it reminded me of my life in New York. Now, I ride it almost daily.

As anyone who has used this form of transportation knows, you need to learn the end-points of each line. To go to physical therapy, I take Line 1 towards Hospital de Bellvitge; at Placa de Sants, I transfer to Line 5 toward Vall d’Hebron and then get off at Entenca. And so on. When I screw up and find myself going in the wrong direction, I get off at the next stop and cross over to the other side.

People are polite and don’t scream into their phones. They do, however, look down at their them while walking through the tunnels and down the stairs, which is really annoying because they unwittingly slow down while concentrating on their bubble games. The good news is that there are wonderful street musicians in the walkways and trains.

I noticed that, three rides in a row, I was tapped me on the shoulder and addressed as Senor by someone pointing to a recently-vacated seat. Closer scrutiny revealed that I was one of the older riders- the only one with a white beard. And here I thought I was reliving my youth.

But it’s a pleasure to be in a place where an old white guy isn’t completely invisible.

And after weeks of walking around town and in and out of the Metro, my lower back pain has disappeared. Years of minimal usage had rendered my lower spine and muscles twisted and locked. Now if only I could get my shoulder to behave.

The weather is lovely; last year, when I left at the end of March, it was still overcast and chilly. What a difference a month makes.

I have a new favorite restaurant, Mescladís, which is, no kidding, right next door to my apartment. (The same street number.) Eixample, my current neighborhood, is very hip; and this small funky place has a famous chef and amazing food. There’s wonderful art on the walls, and I have no idea what I’m eating, but it’s great. (The menu is in Catalan.)  Three courses, bottled water, wine and dessert for $16.50. In the morning, I sit at a café and have a coffee (americano, of course) and pastry for $3. What’s not to love.

Last year, my activities were hampered by a broken hand and almost a month of allergy-induced bronchitis. This year has been what last year should have been. Apartment-hunting has helped me get to know various areas of Barcelona. While hardly an expert, I am much more familiar with the different areas. There are, however, new laws to prevent non-Europeans from renting; since many took long-terms leases and switched a huge number of living spaces into vacation rentals. The locals cannot find housing and have to leave the city. As a result, all agencies were directed to come up with policies for compliance with the new laws, which most don’t understand.

One agency told me that my two pensions, which comfortably covered the rent, needed to be supported by $20,000 in a bank account. When I questioned this, the young lady told me that I could decide to spend 90% of my pension and not be able to pay rent. I explained that she had it backwards. Cash, even 20k, could be moved at a moment’s notice; landlords wanted to see steady, reliable income, such as a pension. She was not interested in learning the fine points of property management, at least not from me. Another agent wanted the full lease, every month, paid up front. Imagine what I told him.

I did, ultimately find a place represented by a reasonable agency. Stay tuned.

The only other comment to make is that, since this is an internationally famous and desirable city, the rental market is enormous. There are several websites, similar to local AirBnBs, offering dozens of places for temporary living. However, the people who photograph the apartments for rent use wide-angle lenses or, possibly, alien technology to make an eight-foot wide room look like a banquet hall. I can’t even fathom where they stand to create an enormous visual space out of a living room smaller than my kitchen.

And so, it continues. I continue planning and calculating my way to a happy (or happier) life. But I gotta tell ya, I’m having a really good time eating, drinking, exploring and not watching the news.