Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Chapter 3: Picasso and Piggiebacks
The next day was a Sunday, as per usual. However, this was a very special Sunday, because all the museums in Barcelona were free for the day. Which you would think would be great. It was an opportunity to see some of the most beautiful masterpieces in the world, and pay no money for it. Or so I thought. We went to the Picasso museum, which afforded me the opportunity to stand far away from Picasso’s art in a room filled with people who had not only waited for “Free Art Sunday”, but also seemed to be waiting for “Free Soap Wednesday” as well. That is all I will say about the Picasso museum, which was the only museum I had time to go to that day.
The true highlight of the day was just after lunch. We ten Musketeers were just exiting a pizza place (oh god was it good to have pizza again. Pizza, unlike traditional Spanish cooking, has flavour) when we looked to our left. The simple act of looking to one’s left so often affords surprises, I do it whenever I can. Right now I see a door. Not an exciting find. Sunday when I looked left I saw a three story tall tower of human men, and capped with a wee child, crumble to the ground. It all happened so fast that I didn’t get a chance to take a picture, but it was one hell of a sight for me.
I have to hand it to the Spanish, what they lack in culinary prowess, they more than make up for in dangerous past-times. Fire Runs and bullfights are one thing. But in the Spanish art of human tower building (which is what the name implies), the trick to building a tall tower is to put little children up high and really little children (I think they draw the line at children who have already been born) at the very top. The ‘top’ being the place that is farthest away from the ground. The ‘ground’ being that stone thing that your face smashes into when someone three levels below you all of a sudden realizes that they are holding up three or four people; and hey, isn’t that impossible.
I have to give the tower people credit though, the first tower (the Red Jaguars) was the only one we saw fall. The Purple Parrots, Green Monkeys and Teal… Pigeons (?) all succeeded. I have pictures. Russian Roulette of child abuse aside, they were really cool to look at. We even talked to some of the tower men after they had deconstructed. They spoke Catalan. I smiled at them.
The true highlight of the day was just after lunch. We ten Musketeers were just exiting a pizza place (oh god was it good to have pizza again. Pizza, unlike traditional Spanish cooking, has flavour) when we looked to our left. The simple act of looking to one’s left so often affords surprises, I do it whenever I can. Right now I see a door. Not an exciting find. Sunday when I looked left I saw a three story tall tower of human men, and capped with a wee child, crumble to the ground. It all happened so fast that I didn’t get a chance to take a picture, but it was one hell of a sight for me.
I have to hand it to the Spanish, what they lack in culinary prowess, they more than make up for in dangerous past-times. Fire Runs and bullfights are one thing. But in the Spanish art of human tower building (which is what the name implies), the trick to building a tall tower is to put little children up high and really little children (I think they draw the line at children who have already been born) at the very top. The ‘top’ being the place that is farthest away from the ground. The ‘ground’ being that stone thing that your face smashes into when someone three levels below you all of a sudden realizes that they are holding up three or four people; and hey, isn’t that impossible.
I have to give the tower people credit though, the first tower (the Red Jaguars) was the only one we saw fall. The Purple Parrots, Green Monkeys and Teal… Pigeons (?) all succeeded. I have pictures. Russian Roulette of child abuse aside, they were really cool to look at. We even talked to some of the tower men after they had deconstructed. They spoke Catalan. I smiled at them.
# posted by Mr Tim @ 3:14 PM 
