Tarragona

Today we headed to go and visit the coastal ruins of an old Roman fortified city that is now the beachfront city of Tarragona. We took the train along the Mediterranean coast about one hour south of Barcelona. We stopped at Nostre Pizza to have some lunch and proceeded to eat a pizza / calzone each and lounge away a good part of the afternoon sitting and soaking up sounds as the city started to wake up from its siesta.

We set off to the archeological walk around the city, and then to the ancient ruins of the northernmost wall of the city – which included an entire circus with underground tunnels for the horses and competitors. The city walls, and much of the ruins are really well preserved, and like so many other ancient buildings, they are also the framing walls for the modern apartment buildings that have been built up around them. I love this weird comfort level with all things old – that people hang their laundry on a side wall that was built in 200BC. The most well preserved monument is the amphitheatre, which is built into the rock wall next to the sea – and is built far more like a coliseum than an amphitheatre, complete with the pits for gladiators and animals for all of your blood sport needs. It is truly picturesque, and it’s sea location served multiple purposes – as goods could be brought directly from shore into these underground rooms, and I am sure cleaned out with the seawater at high tide if need be.

After a sun filled day of walking around old stuff. We stopped to have a cerveza in the waning evening sunlight and planned out our Barcelona evening – which of course all fell flat, as we ate too much cheese when we got back and then headed out to dinner around midnight – which even by Spanish standards it too late for dinner – so a shared bocadillo of salami and cheese, we stopped at la Plaza Real to have a couple of beers and people watch. By far the drunkest folks at midnight are the British, Swedish, and Americans – the Spanish, French and Italians don’t show their inebriation until around 2AM, at which point they simply pass out in the street – or burst into an impromptu game of street rugby – which never seems to end well.

Tomorrow - on to museums!