I'm not bringing anyone back any souvenirs until someone tells me where to buy actual, original gifts in these godforsaken tourist towns. I'm not even kidding. Every single shop either sells the kind of crap you can buy at Party City, or I Heart Paris shirts. Or, inexplicably, scarves. And every shop sells the same crap as the shop next door. The thing we would really like to bring home is food, but that isn't allowed into the country. What the heck is wrong with the tourist market?
All that aside...we went to the Pompidou Center today, checking out the kind of art that seems more accessible and less intimidating. It's still Picasso, Chagall, Matisse and Dali, but it seems more...viewer friendly. I still got very overloaded very early, so after a museum-cafe lunch, I headed out with Cassie to browse the utterly useless shops. As an aside, you really have to love a museum that serves wrap sandwiches with tapenade, feta cheese and tomatoes, along with fresh-pressed orange juice and bowls of sliced strawberries. It all costs a fortune, of course, but everything in Europe is outrageously priced.
I have decided, based on today's artistic forays, to cross the Picasso museum off my Barcelona to-do list. I don't really like Picasso, and while the museum would be really good for my brain, I'm not sure it would be good for my patience. With only one week left in Barcelona, I don't have time to do all the things I would like.
Now it is time to nap before the evening foray into the eminently strollable Paris. Greg went off to see the remainder of the Louvre (I can only assume he is trying to drown himself in art), but the rest of us are far more sensible.
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