Europe 2021

As I have been riding across Europe it seems that nearly every large town or city has been infected with a plague of graffiti. Maybe coming fresh from the Picasso Museum made me hyper-sensitive to bad art but I felt the need to write a few words on the subject. Cities in the USA and Canada have similar infections but it just seems to hit me harder to see buildings that are ancient by my standards defaced with some of the nastiest stuff to ever leave the nozzle of a spray can. I understand that some consider it an art form but given the quality of some of the work, it is clear that the artists need a hell of lot more practice before exposing their incompetence to the public. Even impromptu art that has a degree of artistic merit gets covered in crude tags that destroy whatever the original artist intended. At times I would like to see the vandal skinned with a dull potato peeler.

Some cities are worse that others but every city, even Venice has some. Barcelona seems especially bad with spray bombers willing to paint nearly anything that stands still for long enough, even the trains.

This is not to say that every form of graffiti is bad. Temporary construction barriers and boarded up windows are fair game but maybe the street artists could get together and jury the installations. You could start by just painting your bedroom wall until judged good enough to try the front door of where you live. From there you may be allowed to progress to boarded up windows and finally to construction barriers. Your crowning glory could be to be given a commission to do an actual wall mural.
Until such a graffiti bureaucracy is established, maybe cities the world over should invest in some power washers and blast the stuff off as soon as it is painted. There is no glory in graffiti that is unseen and the real city that lies underneath can be both ancient and beautiful without additional decoration.







Both before and after visiting the Picasso Museum I spent some time walking around the old section of Barcelona. This is home of narrow streets and small shops typical of many European cities. It being a holiday these narrow streets and wide plazas were crowded with both locals and tourists out for a day in the city. Street musicians and buskers were also out trying to earn a few Euros and providing a lot of local sounds and color. Just walking around, watching and listening was an interesting way of experiencing this ancient city. There are a variety of dining experiences to try as well a wine shops and minor attractions such as the Museum of Erotica. I did not bother to go in. A couple going there would seem campy and fun but a guy by himself would just look creepy. However, there was a sex shop nearby with an interesting window display but I am not sophisticated enough to understand what a guy, looking like Salvador Dali and riding a rhino is doing in their window display.



On one quite, rural stretch I passed an interesting church which upon closer inspection had a historical information plaque posted outside. The church was built sometime in the 11th century and is known as Sant Vicene de Tordera. The sign did not say much about the church other than when it was built and that it is now privately owned. There was a photo of the interior which I have copied and posted.
















The towpath was somewhat rough but no problem for our mix of road and gravel tires. However, near the end of the canal there was pavement that seemed to be where the commune stockpiled all of their potholes for convenient access. I think it was somewhere along this stretch that my flashing headlight decided it wanted take up residence. At least it seemed the most likely place given the bone jarring quality of the roadway.
After lunch it was mostly tailwinds all the way to the next village where 















We left Nice and the French Rivera this morning for the long climb into the mountains that define the difference between the Rivera and Provence. The climb was one of the toughest I have done and made tougher by some of the bypasses Gergo routed in order to avoid a busier road. However, it was a Saturday and the roads were not that busy and because it was Saturday the smaller, narrow bypass roads actually had more. Overall we climbed over 1800 meters (6000 feet) during our 131 kilometer ride. 


