Yesterday, while walking my beloved Blue Jeans in the city center of Barcelona, the Prime Minister addressed the nation again. A major lockdown was going into effect immediately for all of Spain. The news came through while I was traveling back to my flat.
In the morning, at the start of my walk, I made my way through our little village, Horta. I noticed every shop was open, restaurants had umbrellas and tables, the market was in full swing, and everyone was walking and socializing about. Things drastically changed once I entered the metro to make my way to the city center. Nobody was riding the train and it was a Saturday. The only occupants were the pick pocketers and me. It was quite entertaining to see how these thieves were so blatantly visual without all the other normal riders. But, it was completely odd to actually have a seat and an entire car to myself.
At the city center, I met up with a fellow girl friend that just received a new foster dog. The plan was to walk the dogs and grab a cup of coffee. We walked blocks to make our way to the sea, and there was not one single cafe open. We tried to make our way more into the city where all the tourists hang out, and, again, nothing was open. How could my little village just outside the city center be so accessible and thriving, but the city center be a ghost town? The city center took the preliminary lockdown seriously, shuttering bars, cafes, restaurants, and retail stores the day before. Only grocery and pharmacy establishments were clear for business. By the end of the day, my little village, Horta, had also heeded the message.
The locals knew the lockdown was coming. They pushed it to the limit garnering every last bit of freedom. For a culture that thrives on being outdoors, the lockdown seemed like a death sentence. By sunset, the shades and umbrellas were drawn, the metal security gates were rolled down, the sidewalks were empty, and the streets had few cars. It was ominous as any other Saturday evening would be bustling. I arrived back to my flat as the sun was setting and witnessed the closing of Barcelona as we know it. It may be weeks before this city comes back alive.
As I crawled into bed pondering all the lost plans, canceled events, fun times down the drain, and how to manage a new normal, I heard a strange ruckus outside my window. The hoots, the hollers, the clapping, the fireworks – classic Spain during a fiesta. Unbeknownst to me, a call to arms memo had circulated and at 10 PM, an applause of support and praise for all the health care workers was created by all from the windows, balconies, and terraces. It was a wonderful sound reminding me that despite the restrictions and isolation, we are still quite united.
Below, check out the view from my balcony and the glorious sound of a city banded together. Day 1 Completed.
Loosely Lucy 