Barcelona

Hola!

So, I visited Barcelona last weekend and while I probably should have written this a few days ago, I had midterms to pretend to study for.

We left Thursday evening on Ryan Air, an airline notorious for super cheap flights. They have a reputation for giving you your money’s worth and absolutely nothing else. We managed to get to Barcelona in one piece and, as we arrived in an airport in some desolate and distant area, we took an hour and a half bus ride to get to the real Barcelona.

Our hostel was everything a hostel is supposed to be. In past trips, I’ve stayed in rooms that they try to make mimic crappy hotels. Not this one. Graffiti hostel has squeaky bunk beds, mismatched sheets, and exactly two bathrooms for all the inhabitants. No one speaks the same language but everyone can communicate a mutual hatred of that girl who hogs the bathroom to blow-dry her dreadlocks. In our room, we had a colorful bunch, including two super fashionable Americans who were going to all four years of college in Italy and a hilarious trio of Canadian Engineering majors (who we made sing ‘O Canada’ to us – and, in fairness, I did sing out national anthem to them upon request).

When we finally got to venture out into the city, our first order of business was to stalk out all things Gaudí, starting with la Sagrada Familia. It was a bit pricey to get in as, while the outside is very ornate with news things catching your eyes upon every sweep over the exterior, the inside parts that you are allowed to view are jumbles of construction (it won’t be finished for another 30 years). However, there is an interesting exhibition on Gaudí’s usage of nature in his designs, as well as a museum showing the various rooms where they construct models for parts of the cathedral.

Next was Parc Güell, full of brilliant colors and whimsy. All along the benches and walls and ceilings outside are vibrant mosaics and the houses that he put in reminded me very much of gingerbread houses with their brown walls and candy-colored stones around the windows. After leaving, we hopped on the subway to get to Las Ramblas, got off at a wrong stop, and ended up smack dab in front of Casa Batllo, the apartments Gaudí built. We didn’t wander in, but the outside was gorgeous.

On the walk to las Ramblas, which is a huge outdoor market place, we stumbled upon a shop of confectionary wonders, where we indulged in pastries (that day and the next too). For some reason, Barcelona seemed to be full of these delectable little stores that tantalize passersby with glazed-treats ad cloying scents.

Las Ramblas had all kinds of insanity to be sold. There were lives chickens and furry bunny rabbits, fragrant flowers and flamboyant street performers, and then we discovered Boqueria. Boqueria is a gigantic farmer’s market type ordeal. It buzzed with shoppers, buying fresh fruit or tangy cheeses or just about anything else. We were particularly fond of the fresh fruit juices. I don’t remember each one I tried, but I did opt to taste the cactus flower juice in one glass. We also purchased eggs to eat for the next two mornings, some fresh fruit, and some dried fruit as well.

After heading home and napping a bit, we got ready and went out to the clubs along the beach. We roamed around, stopping in an ice bar at one point and freezing out underdressed bums off, and finally ended up in one of the clubs. After dancing a bit, around 3 am (remember, I’m on Spanish time), much like a junior high dance, the lights came on and the entire room was herded to the coat check and out of the building. I’ve never closed a club and I must say, it’s a rather uncomfortable experience when the lights turn on and everyone glances awkwardly at one another.

The next day, Ellen made us some tasty breakfast sandwiches and I broke my retainer on fresh coconut. As there wasn’t much I could do, I decided to grin and bear it and we went on with the day. We moseyed for a bit along las Ramblas and along the beach, stopping to eat lunch and get ice cream. Then we found out way to the cathedral, which had a theme park length line sticking out of it that persuaded us that we were kind of tired and, really, would rather just munch on pastries and head to la Boqueria.

Once we got back, we took a nap and had every intention of going out again. However, we ended up having a camp-style conversation with our roommates until the wee hours of the morning. Our conversation and new friend’s rendition of ‘O Canada’ was infinitely more enjoyable than hearing the latest music from two years ago be mixed and remixed.

The next morning we said goodbye to our Canadian friend, packed up, and went with out Americans-studying-in-Italy to el Museo Picasso. Other than the fact that a huge (probably about 30 year chunk) of his career was missing, a lot of Picasso’s early works, particularly from when he was a child and still in school, were on display, along with brief biographies from each time period.

After that, we were forced to say goodbye to Barcelona and head back to Sevilla, which we’ve become accustomed to referring to as “home.” As much as I loved the vibrancy of Barcelona, it was nice to come back to the cozy familiarity of Sevilla.

A bit later this morning, I’ll be leaving for another trip to Morocco. I hope you’re all well and having adventures of your own.

Love,

Natalie

I snapped this picture outside the cathedral and it was one of my favorites of the trip.