Posted by: Team McSlade | April 15, 2010

…à la fin.

So in case you haven’t heard, we’re home. Well, back in Almísera. We totally understand your feelings of fear and trepidation as Team McSlade hadn’t phoned in for a few days, but allay those worries we’ve had a whole lot of not much and a whole lot of…stuff (to do.)

Washing was the main thing to do. Piles of it.
Never had I seen a machine filled entirely of socks and undergarments, but I can now safely cross that off of my ‘List of things to see before I die’. Shopping for groceries and returning a car to Valéncia were also on the agenda and then making a sojourn to university got a throw too.

To complete the Two Oui Oui(ks) for Easter travel diary I must take you back to France and a brave decision to take a toll road. You read it correctly, paying to use a road, when a perfectly good road will do the same job for no cost. Alas, the ‘free’ road will cost you about 3 extra hours (or by my reckoning another baguette’s worth of crumbs)  and it’ll chew through the patience of a saint.
As we possessed neither the saint’s patience or the required sandwich for the highway gods we took one for the team and paid some French toll master about 20€ for the privilege of doing 130km/h on a straight road . No dramas in Toulouse this time around and we made the España frontera before the crumbs even hit the floor and I did mention to Jo that ‘four extra hours on those rural Frenchie roads and I would kill someone’.

 Another 37k’s and an unwanted fling with a Spanish toll road (and its 1.95€ burden) we alighted in Figueres – birth/death and resting-place of Salvador Dalí. As Spaniards are not great with signage, finding the Dalí Museum was a slight challenge; luckily he designed it with eggs for turrets and bread rolls adorning the walls (picture below).

Dali Museum and Theatre

The Persistence of Memory (think melting clocks) and the ‘Mae West’ room are here, as is his crypt. Yes, he’s buried in there. I love Dalí’s work, I think he is amazing and from the sublime to the ridiculous, he seems to have it all; his sculptures are quirky, his jewellery is breathtaking and his love of feet, eggs and ants is bizarre.
Zach on the other hand has another view: 
Dalí “does some weird, wacky paintings. For instance I don’t know why anyone would make a piece of jewellery in a shape of a heart that would beat in and out….I don’t think it [surrealism] has any meaning to it and that’s why I find surrealism boring….I find that it takes more skill to paint real paintings like Rembrandt’s Vision of Christ in agony made in 1631.”

I think that’s great too. I reckon most of Zach’s mates would struggle to spell ‘surrealism’ let alone give you a few reasons why they don’t like it (be it begrudgingly dragged out of him for a school project); then to back it up with Rembrandt, we (Jo and I) feel that education through osmosis isn’t too bad a way to go about it.

We did a few hot laps of the museum and Dalí would have smiled happily at the sight of a few other patrons decked out in ‘bib ‘n’ brace’ ski pants, very surreal and it was only 25°C (with the closest ski field 300k’s away in Andorra. Two lobster tails up for that effort).

Like Tarantino’s Kill Bill films, you can see at the end that of Vol. 1 it isn’t really the end, thus  Vol. 2 shall follow shortly. Please use this intermission to retrieve a cool refreshing beverage, a  chocolate bar or maybe re-fill the muesli bowl and be sure to return for Barcelona, Lloret de Mar and a cornucopia of Gaudí.

Dali Museum Slideshow

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P.S. Thanks again to Belinda for sending the email that jogged my memory about the Dalí Museum.


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