Mike’s note: In August, 2016, Mary and I spent a week in Barcelona, Spain. I wrote several posts about that trip on an older blog. Not long ago I stumbled on it and found this story of a chance encounter we had in the Gothic Quarter. It’s one of my favorite travel memories and reminded me that some of our best travel experiences happen when we put away our guidebooks and pay attention to our surroundings. I hope you enjoy it.
This is why I travel
Monday, August 29, 2016
On Sunday afternoon, Mary and I took a walking tour of the Barri Gotic, the Gothic Quarter, in Barcelona. The streets are narrow and paved with stone. Some of the buildings here date back to the 12th Century or earlier. There are remnants of a wall and an aqueduct constructed by the Romans when they founded the city of Barcino around 15 BC.
Some of the buildings, like the Church of Santa Anna, (12th C.) retain their original look. Others, like the Cathedral of Barcelona appear as a patchwork of styles built over centuries. The old coexists with the older, and all of it coexists with the new – the bars and restaurants, the tee-shirt shops, the tourists with their iPhones – though if these buildings could talk, I suspect they might wish we would hurry up and be replaced by whatever comes next, since they have seen, and mostly survived, everything for hundreds of years.
At one point, early in the afternoon, we closed our guide book and instead of returning to the main thoroughfare and the next sight to see, we followed the narrow, winding street – Carrer de Montsis (“Carrer” is Catalan for “street”, like “Calle” in Spanish) – just to see what was ahead. After a few steps, we reached the point where Carrer de Montsis met Carrer de Amargós. Hanging on the wall at the intersection was a sign made of painted tile.
We stopped to read it, and were attempting to translate, when an old man approached us. He was wearing a bright red shirt and carrying a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, like he was returning from the market with a bottle of wine for dinner. He spoke first, and it took us a few brief exchanges before he switched to English. He guessed that we were trying to understand the words on the sign and said, “It’s Catalan”, indicating the regional language of Catalunya. “I put it there. And another one down there.” He pointed at a spot on the wall down the Carrer Amargós where another sign hung.
“I have lived on this street my whole life”, he said. “I was born in #7 and now I live in #12. And I’m 91 years old.” He said something that I didn’t understand about the Queen of Spain. I think she was the inspiration for the signs. He struggled to find the right words, telling us that the sign said something like “the street will embrace you”.
His English was halting, but far better than my Spanish. I asked him his name. He told us his name was Emile, and that he had been a photographer, working over 40 years in a small shop at the other end of the street. He said he had spent many nights developing film, making and developing prints, holding them up in the red light of the darkroom and marveling as the black and white images appeared on the paper.
He told us that every day he wrote two or three letters and sent them to friends. “Not the rat a tat a tat”, he said, mimicking the motion of typing on a keyboard. “I write like this”, and his hand moved as if gliding over paper with a pen.
We told him that this was our first visit to Barcelona and he said he hoped we would enjoy it and come back again. Then he shook our hands, with a grip stronger than any I have encountered in years. He smiled, kissed the back of Mary’s hand, and walked off down the street.
When we returned to our apartment late in the day, I was determined to understand the words on the sign. I leaned heavily on Google Translate to get the basics of Catalan to English. Then I used a bit of poetic license to capture the meaning that I think Emile was trying to impart to us. The street name, Carrer Amargós, translates literally as “Bitter Street”. His sign, I believe, means this:
“Pedestrian, do not stay long on Bitter Street,
for you will find it to be not bitter,
but a place that will embrace you.”
A place that will embrace you. For 91 years. A lifetime.
I think we are all looking for our home on Bitter Street. It’s nice to have met someone who lives there.
This is why I travel.
What unexpected encounter have you had when you put away your map? Leave us a comment below or via the Contact Us form.
Until next week / Fins a la setmana que ve
Mike
The Writer
We spent a few weeks this past summer traveling through Spain and Portugal with our boys. It was honestly the best trip we have ever taken. We were instantly drawn to Barcelona and have made a vow to visit as much as possible. We also fell in love with Luz in the Algarve, Cascais and Nazare. This summer we’re doing rural tourism in the Azores. We have an authentic working farmhouse waiting for us in Faial. I am so glad I stumbled on your blog. I have subscribed and look forward to reading past, present and future adventures. Happy American Thanksgiving (although I do put a Portuguese spin on it) as both my husband and myself are Portuguese
Hi Kathy,
Thanks for your comments and for subscribing. We’re happy to have you join the fun. It sounds like you and your family are adventurous travelers. Please let us know about your trip to the Azores. It’s on our list, along with Madeira. Barcelona was the first place we visited in Spain and we were enchanted by the city. We’ve recently been to Madrid and Valencia and published several posts about that trip. Last week we were in the Algarve and this week we’re celebrating Thanksgiving with friends in Nazaré. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too!
All our best,
Mike
Such a wonderful story. One of the reasons we travel is to immerse ourselves in the culture. Earl tries to talk to anyone, he’s very brave about it and usually he has wonderful conversations like you did with Emile. Thanks for sharing that story.
I remember this from your old blog and thought about it last month as I had several encounters such as this just recently.
Hi Bonnie,
Thanks for commenting. Do you have some stories you’d like to share? We could set you up with a guest post.
Mike
This is my favorite of all your columns. Thank you for sharing Emile’s story. So very beautiful, Mike.
Thanks, Nan!
What a heartwarming memory! I’m glad you shared this again as I missed it the first time.
Hi Melinda,
Thanks for your comment. I’m sure you would have enjoyed meeting Emile, a fellow photographer. We would have liked to see some of his work, too.
Mike
Kinda makes me want to travel.
Do it! Come to Portugal and we’ll show you around.
Mike and Mary, I was ecstatic when opening my email early this Saturday morning and learning that your blog this week was a re-run of your meeting the old man on Bitter Street in Barcelona! Why was I ecstatic? I’ll tell you why.
On a Sunday noon after church in late 2016 Mike’s dad and I were, as usual on Sundays, dining together at “the old folk’s” home where we lived. Conversation with Bert was always fun, and often he spoke of his boys, their lifestyles and work. That particular Sunday he told me about Mike’s interest in blogging. That very day I searched ’til finding it and the current one was the story of meeting the old man on Bitter Street. You made me want to go find that man and hear his story myself.
For months after that Sunday I looked.for more blogs by Mike but finally gave up. When catching up with you long after your move to Portugal, I poured through every blog you had written looking for the old man…THANK YOU, Mike, for the reprint, and I too, hope he’s still walking Bitter Street.
Hi Joy,
Thanks so much for your comment and the remembrance of Dad. He had a blog, too, for a short while, but gave it up to focus on his fiction writing. Yes, I quit the old one after that post. I don’t recall why, but it probably had something to do with that pesky interruption called “work”. I’m happy that you enjoyed this reprint.
We hope you are well and happy in your “new” old folks’ home.
Mike
I love this post! This is indeed why we travel! It’s moments like these that make it more personal and gives us insight to the people who live in the places we travel. Thanks for sharing!
Hi Ellen,
Thanks for your comment. Language differences sometimes get in our way, but we’ve found that most people are friendly and outgoing wherever we’ve been.
Have a great day!
Mike
I hope Emile has survived the pandemic and is living the good life on Bitter Street and the grand age of 97.
I hope so, too.