Right now I’m exhausted. Thoroughly mentally and physically exhausted. I’ve been in Barcelona for 3 whole days now and it feels like weeks. Been busy nearly every minute, which makes me feel like the old me. I think I love Barcelona, but I’m pretty sure it’s not because of it being the city it is at all. It’s completely got to do with the people I’ve met here and hung out here with and shared glorious moments with. In any other way (this is gonna sound so bratty and snobby and terribly horrible) it’s just another city. But it’s got a beach. I’ll give it that. And a cool marina. And a nice metro. And some great views and parks and mountains surrounding the area….
In any case, I’m even more now constantly reminded about what Uncle Danny’s friend said to me before I left for Europe. He had traveled the world many many many times in his 70 years, and we talked about how great that was, but in the end of our conversation, he said what I completely agree with: traveling—it’s not about the sights you see or even about the cities you visit. What makes it all worth it is the people you meet and your experiences you share together.
This whole statement, which I knew was true the minute he said it, made me worry even more before I left that I was going to get bored of myself. It came true so much it hurt. As everyone knows by now, traveling alone for me was never scary and still isn’t. It’s just plain lonely. And there’s enough alone minutes I’ve had commuting to work this past year and even while working in my office each day that I’ve stocked up for about a year on alone time. On top of that, socialization is a major part of my enjoyment for life—without it, there’s no one to share even my best lonely moments with verbally (or by a blog J ). So yea, def over traveling alone.
SOOOO Barcelona, back to that. Loving it. They don’t know it, but Gordan and Leighton, whom I met in my hostel, have been one of the major high lights of my trip. Not that anyone else whom I’ve spent time with is any worse off in my memories. Everyone has had their place in my experiences and my memories of them, no matter good or bad. However, Gordan and Leighton were two that were so similar-minded to me at this point in my trip that I fully could relax being my own self. I felt like I was acting as I do in normal life in the States, meaning that Europe finally has felt more like home than every before. I think it also has to do with my hostel.
View from my hostel balcony :)
Staying at the Saint Jordi Hostel Sagrada Familia. It’s 5 minutes away from the Sagrada Familia, one of the most future intimidating cathedrals I’ve ever seen in my life. Actually, it probably is the scariest. It’s got towers like a Disney movie, except they literally reach heaven. And the designs incorporated—they are just freaking detailed to the max. It’s not finished being built yet, and in fact, it is probably around halfway through or more. Won’t be finished till I finish this life probably….Point is, my hostel is near it and the metro and some grocery stores and wonderfully not near lots of tourists. I love it. We have a balcony and oh yea, it’s an apartment. Full kitchen, free laundry machines, another balcony, a cute kiddie park across the street, a couple bedrooms, a living room, a TV which I never turn on, a dining room table, a couple bathrooms and hardwood floors. Much nicer than any apt or house I’ve lived in besides Ventura. I love it. Because I come home at night. If I want, I can come down to the common room where I am now and watch futbol or movies on a big screen with others, or, I can hang in my apt or my friend’s and feel like I never have a space to just HANG. So yea, this apt makes a difference and the fact that I’m here for 5 solid days makes me feel like I’m getting a taste of just living in a city and not necessarily just traveling through.
Onward with some things I’ve done. First day, I came in on an overnight train with Michael, my friend from Sevilla and Granada. We met Kyle in the bar on the train and were good friends by morning because we shared lots of wine and good convos till 1am the night before. His friend Garrett joined in on the fun that first day bc they were traveling together for the Spring Break. So the 4 of us headed to all the sights of Barcelona that first day: the Sau Pau Hospital (designed very cool back in the early 20th century….huge bc the whole city was very sickly and they wanted a central place to cure people correctly with all the best docs), the Sagrada Familia, Las Ramblas (shopping, buildings), the Gaudi strip (a street I can’t remember the name of, but lots of Gaudi-designed buildings—very unique and almost Dali-like), the market at Las Ramblas, and the harbor shopping center. We made dinner in my apartment after and hung out then headed to the harbor again to take in some wine, some pretty lights and of course, dark chocolate. Embraced the good company before 2 of them left for Rome on a ferry.
Hospital Sant Pau-front end.
Inside Sant Pau Hospital.
The Sagrada Familia. Obviously, it's way under construction.
Sagrada Familia, part of the backside.
Inside the metro station....everywhere! Ha.
Cool bench in central part of Barcelona. They are everywhere.
A Gaudi-designed building.
Another Gaudi-designed building.
Plaza shot.
Everyone was playing with the pigeons in this plaza. Weird.
Walked by a salon where I think they were prepping for some runway/photos.
Ha.
Kyle, Me, Michael and Garrett.
Michael and I joined our way-cool-hostel afterward on one of their daily night functions. This night, they were going out clubbing together. The two in charge took Michael and a few of us others to Shoko, a club on the beach. Strict on the outfits—one guy in our hostel didn’t get in. But free entry. Then, really expensive drinks. 10 euro. Not friendly on a backpack budget. BOOOOO. So Michael and I splurged bc we were there, why not, just enjoy it, then we settled for some 6 euro beers afterward and lived up the American-music infused dance floor. So fun. Heard some Miley.
We lasted till 3am, which is quite lame and early here, but we had probably slept for 4 hours total between Granada fun and the night train the past 2 days, so we didn’t care. Or at least I didn’t.
Best part comes next. Well, had to say bye to Michael and not sure if I’ll ever see him again but he was a great comrade for the 3 days we hung out in Europe. But theeeennnn…….Gordan and Leighton had invited me to breakfast burritos the next morning. And Gordan loves to cook. And he’s from Denver and Leighton is from Dallas/Arkansas so they know Mexican food. And good food in general I guess. So I woke late and met Gordan and Leighton for an apt-cooked breakfast of eggs, chorizo, potatoes, cheese and all wrapped in a flour tortilla. AMAZING. Because I miss good home-cooked food and I miss burritos. And it was cheap. Traveling alone, you’d think the backpacker budget would favor hostel kitchen cooking; yet, traveling alone, you realize that making a full meal, it costs a lot to add variety to the food in a fun way. Fresh fruits and veggies add up. And so does a package of chicken. So you settle for baguettes and just use the oven to try to be creative and resourceful and it sucks because your still stuck with a baguette.
Anyway, so we go to the beach after. It’s sandals weather and I wear my new red bathing suit. And we just LAY. And that’s all I need. Because every city is like the last (here’s where I sound like a travel snob and I am actually very very sorry for sounding like so…..) and the sights and buildings and cathedrals are just what they are:sights and buildings and cathedrals. So we lay, see some nudists, watch some beach volley, tiptoe in the Mediterranean, embrace our lack of towels and dig the toes into sand. It was so welcome at this point in my trip. And as I mentioned before I’m sure, one will love a city not because of the sights or what it is, but instead because of the people he/she will meet and the experiences they share together. Good company, warm sun, full happy bellies, pretty views….I couldn’t be closer to heaven.
We stroll the marina boardwalk and seem very far from tourists. The marina is gorgeous. We see a naked man cycling down the path. Lots of runners who are buff and in tight bike shorts make me feel out of shape. Dad, you and I would train for our marathons here. We walk for a long while and turn into the city streets again. We find a grocery store and buy baguettes, roasted red peppers in a jar soaked with vinegar, some amazing cheese (_______don’t remember the name….), and chroizo. We line em all up in side and pair it with 1 euro wine. I’m so tired, I’m buzzed after 2 glasses. But I’m happy.
Cool fountain.
At the beach. Naked man....
Leighton, Me and Gordon.
Cool Jungle Gym at the beach.
We clean up and head to the the Parque Guell. We take a local bus with none to little tourists, so the locals are nice and tell us how to get to the park. We arrive shortly before sunset and hike up to this AMAZING view of Barcelona where a cross lies. On the backside, there’s a mountain with a monastery that looks like the Disney castle and a random communications tower that completely contrasts it—sort of awkward. There’s a ferris wheel next to the monetary. Weird. But an interesting sight.
We stay on this viewpoint and take it all in along with the hurricane-style wind gusts that knock me over pretty much. Then we head to a bench and I share an amazing romantic picnic with these two cousins that saved Barcelona. We open a bottle of red wine and a package of dark chocolate. We pair it with fresh strawberries from a fruiteria. And then, we finish watching the moonrise. Perfecto.
Sagrada Familia--view from Parc Guell.
Some Barcelona.
At the cool viewpoint.
We begin the next portion of the night. Stopping by the apt, we grab some new girls and they come with us to bike polo. Leighton and Gordan met them a few days back and watched them play their night bike polo game in a place specifically designed for the sport. It’s about 5 minutes of a walk from our hostel. These guys are local and from some other places too. So we get there early to watch their 10 pm pick up game and play cards and enjoy the Spanish beverages we so love. The polo players eventually show up with bikes decked out with fully-designed front tires. These front tires have a sort-of shield that allows them to hit the ball with the tire, or trap it if it’s coming at them. They play in a ring and some wear shin guards bc they’re hardcore. There’s 6 players that play and 3 on 3 face each other and countdown “tres, dos, uno, polo!” There’s two goals like a futbol field across from each other. Once they say “polo”, they charge at each other with their polo sticks in tow and begin the match. I think they keep a certain scoring allotment, but I’m not sure.
In anycase, I got to play. Why just watch when a perfectly friendly invitation is there? So I borrowed a bike that was normal (btw, they play with special bikes where, when you pedal forward, you go forward, and when you pedal backwards, you actually pedal backwards. It’s not a free chain when you pedal backwards that allows you to just float. So yea, had the normal bike, which I think was actually harder to play with….). When you play, if you stop and have to put your foot down, you have to bike to the side wall before even getting back into the game again and touch it with your polo stick. That was my downfall. I would pedal hardcore towards a play and try to make a run toward the goal, then I would have to slow down because the game isn’t really that fast (everyone’s on bikeeesss…..and playing polo….) and of course, my foot would have to balance me. So I spent most of my time getting back to that darn white dot on the wall to touch it. After a while, the guys would yell, “No chica, just play, just play!” They were super cool. I guess they were just happy that a girl was playing with them. Not many try. Think we are going back tomorrow for their day game to hang out. After I played a game, my arm was tired from that darn polo stick. We sat around and watched and hung out. Met a guy with a Michigan sweatshirt and after I freaked out for 30 seconds, he told me he got it at a thrift store around here. AW.
In action: Bike Polo.
Charlie in his polo gear.
Today, Gordan, Leighton and I woke up early and joined Oriole, from Barcelona, and Lauren ( a boy) and Jessica from the States to go hiking around a montestary. We went to Montserrat, about an hour inland from Barcalona. IT WAS INCREDIBLE. Well, the views were. I was so exhausted after about 2 hours of sleep and 4 hours total sleep the past 2 days. We went on about 5 trains to get there and even all had a stretching session on the train platform. Funny how you forget to stretch when traveling sometimes. Pixie at yoga this summer will have to be patient with me when I get back…..
So we get there around 10am and head up the mountain it’s on in a train. It goes up hill and makes me think this is the kind of train tracks the Gold Rush guys would need for their trains into the mountains out west. It was almost scary, but the views crept in and by the top, of course were incredible. We could see France. Yup. The Pyrenees Mountains had snow on them and were shining in the distance.
We grab some expensive baguettes and chorizo and cheese and eat breakfast. Then we go on a 6 hour hike. It was either up a 45 degree grade or down tall, awkward stairs the entire time. My legs will kill me tomorrow, so we will try to head to the beach. It was a gorgeous sunny day and I’m convinced that the Lord has blessed me with the ability to bring sun wherever I land. I swear, every time I get to a place, they say it’s just rained for a week and today is the beginning of the sun. Yay! I feel bad because I’m out of shape and am the last one up the hills sometimes. Gordan and Leighton are super into hiking and mountain climbing, so they are charging up the hill. And Oriole is really in shape and so are Jessica and Lauren. Jessica runs marathons too and is a stud.
Anywho, we stop often for the views and to gaze at climbers attempting amazing round mountain sides. We even see a family scaling the mountains. The parents are teaching their kids with all the gear on lower portions. You could spend a week here and still not hike the same trails or scale the same mountain twice.
We hiked to the top!
Found a cat at the top of one mountain.
Hiking action.
Me where the monks used to mediate...this was an official doorway on top of a mountain.
Passing out for a rest in a cave.
The small dots on the left are people. Climbing. Uh huh...
The view of Barcelona. We are an hour away. Oh, and we can also see France from here....
Cool Mountain. A tree is on the left ledge.
The former beer factory across the street from our hostel.
We get done mid-afternoon and my legs are shaking. We eat some lunch. Then head back on some trains and zonk out with my mouth open and drool. Fun. Tonights, Gordan fixed Leighton and I another awesome meal. We shopped for the cheapest things we could find. We had lime-pepper-garlic chicken, garlic roasted potatoes and all topped with some salsa action: diced red pepper, corn, some Spanish beans (smaller….), peach and lime juice with garlic and pepper. Topped that off with some white wine at the dinner table and I felt at home. Again. I realize how much I cherish my memories of my family dinners with mom, dad, Hess and Kalee. I realize how badly I wish I could afford to cook more creatively while traveling. And I realize how much I will cherish these moments of cooking in Barcelona. With good food. And great company. Topped THAT off with dark chocolate and I had the perfect evening. Uncle Danny’s friend, you are so so so right. Thanks for the perfect words to describe my favorite traveling lesson.
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