A buddhabarish experience in downtown ramblas...
When one has a a credit-car slim SONY Cybershot digital camera permanently in one's jacket upper pocket and one feels the urge to research new material for one's blog what does happen? Well, the Honourable Reader is at this point quite aware that this blogger of yours can go to whatever lengths are needed in order to keep the customer happy (I mean you, dear Honourable Reader) .
I was spending a night in Barcelona as a stop-over in an otherwise too exhausting SUV drive from Parc Talabot in Marseille to Barrio de Salamanca in Madrid. My blog correspondent in the capital of the Catalan national identity, the TibetanCaravaggio, had suggested a trendy restaurant where a successful crash course on the night buzz of the Ciudad was guaranteed.
It was in fact one of the countless clones of the Buddha Bar, with obligatory huge goldenish statue of the Siddartha and chic-cool lounge music. Next to our table three designer-dressed blondes were re-enacting a Sex&theCity routine. One of the thirthysomethings was speaking on her tiny mobile phone and I really felt the image would be worth a thousand words.
Now, I cannot just start taking pictures in public spaces just like that, so I had to refrain from paparazzing crudely.
The food was very good, in particular a tuna carpaccio with an anchovy sauce that was really a good effort at sexyng up a sometimes too bland first course. The wine from Toro helped too. I remembered the famous Doisneau photo of a kiss ( "Le Baiser de L'Hotel de Ville") immediately after the Libération when all the supposed spontaneity was revealed afterwards to be the result of a careful mise-en-scène.
I gathered all my Toro-induced courage and went to the next table. "Would it be acceptable to take a photo?"- I asked, with my most charming smile. "And would it be asking too much if a simulation of talking at the mobile phone could be carried on ?" (My smile was as warm as a non-professional theatre actor can possibly muster). I'm glad to report that a positive feedback was obtained, on both counts. I returned to my table and I saw again in front of me the photographic vignette that had so impressed me almost an hour before. I took two photos and thanked the blonde model of that improvised photo-shoot.
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