Yes! I'm finally posting about Barcelona! I'm sorry this is two weeks late. I swear I'll do better in the future. I started writing it earlier but I kept hitting roadblocks. I decided to start over and just go place by place. It might not be chronological. As Julian Casablancas once said, “I can’t think ‘cause I’m just way too tired.”
The Airplane
Vueling has very little legroom, and I think it’s especially tight when you’re sitting in the very last row. Keep this in mind when you’re considering skipping the option to choose your seat on the plane for 2€. Since I’m short this honestly wasn’t a big deal for me, but I pitied the two guys I was sitting between (fairly young, attractive, and foreign—score!). They were much taller than me and were probably thankful it was a short flight. After I offered them both chicle (which they accepted) I spent most of the time talking to the guy on my left, who was Hungarian but I had just assumed he was Spanish until he told me where he was from. Either his Spanish is really good or mine isn’t at the point where I can recognize non-Spanish accents. Anyway, we discussed travel and Spain and learning languages. He was in school to become a flight attendant. You get free flights so that seems like a pretty sweet job to me. Oh, and after the plane had landed I heard the man on my right speaking in French on the phone. When he hung up I said “¿Francés?” He said yes and asked if I spoke it and I managed to say in French that I only spoke a little bit and that I had only studied it for one semester but really liked it.
The Cab
Our cab driver didn’t know where our hostel was. We sat there at the airport for like 5 minutes (WITH the meter running) while he figured it out. That should have been our clue to get out but we didn’t. We did get out of the cab early once he got to the general neighborhood and just walked the rest of the way (thanks to Abby’s GPS).
The Hostel
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| Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, in Dutch |
My initial impression of The Garden House Barcelona hostel was that it was adorable. It was in a house on the outskirts of Barcelona (not the most convenient location, to be honest) and the lobby was cute, with butterflies painted on the ceiling. The lobby had a few sleek couches and some tables, as well as a fireplace and books on the mantle. The girl at the desk was very friendly, and spoke English (as well as Spanish and Estonian, as that was her nationality). The two American girls who checked in just before us were in our room, and we chatted with them a bit. While the four of us were in the kitchen preparing our dinner (for Abby and me it was the food that Abby’s señora had packed for her: entire packs of cheese and salami, and four slices of bread) the power went out. We ate on the upstairs terrace in the dark, waiting for the power to come back on. It didn’t, not until 1:40am, after we were already asleep. My Kindle’s light really came in handy during this time. This and Olaf the Creepy Swedish Guy, a.k.a. Peter Pettigrew, were the first signs that this hostel was not quite as nice as our Sevilla one, though they belonged to the same chain.
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| Remnants of dinner |
Our room location was not the best. It was right by the entrance and the lobby of the hostel, so I could hear people going in and out. And, because Abby and I were both sick, we went to bed fairly early, so when I was trying to fall asleep (not very easy due to coughing attacks) I could hear the lobby music still playing and people talking loudly. Also, to get to the bathroom meant I had to walk through the lobby in my pajamas and bedhead, pretending that no one could see me. In the morning I was awoken by cars zooming down the street and birds. REALLY LOUD BIRDS. They were exactly like this:
I suppose I got what I paid for though; it was really cheap, around 13€ a night. And they gave us extra blankets so that was nice. I should also be grateful that the other people in the room didn’t murder me for keeping them awake with my excessively loud coughing. Hostels + being sick = paranoia and guilt.
I suppose I got what I paid for though; it was really cheap, around 13€ a night. And they gave us extra blankets so that was nice. I should also be grateful that the other people in the room didn’t murder me for keeping them awake with my excessively loud coughing. Hostels + being sick = paranoia and guilt.
Passeig de Gracia
This is the main thoroughfare in Barcelona. At least, it’s where all the big shops and pretty/important buildings are. This includes a couple by the amazingly cool Spanish architect Antoni Gaudí. Actually, let me talk a bit about Gaudí here:
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| Casa Batllo. Not my photo. Yay Google! |
Gaudí was this amazing architect who designed buildings in the late 19th/early 20th century. He was such an artistic genius that his work is STILL ahead of its time. Much of his inspiration came from nature, because when he was little he had rheumatism and he couldn’t play with other kids, so he would go on walks in the country with his mother. I really have yet to see anything quite like Gaudí’s work, architecturally-speaking. It is, as my Spanish Theater professor Emilio would say, “mahvelous.” I’m not sure if there are more on Passeig de Gracia but the two Gaudí buildings that I am familiar with there are La Pedrera (or Casa Milá—it’s so cool it has two names) and Casa Batlló. Gaudí designed Casa Batlló around the story of St. Michael who slayed the dragon. I’m not sure which dragon or what the dragon was doing to merit such a fate, but in any case the fascade of this house is scaly with skull-like balconies and the roof has ridges as if it were the back of a dragon. The chimney is St. Michael’s sword. I admit that I learned this all on the Travel Channel.
La Boquería
La Boquería is this huge famous food market in Barcelona. They really have everything you could ever want, from beautiful fresh produce to cod fritters on a stick (which I tried. Delicious), from gelato to sausage. It's a very very bad idea to go there hungry, because you want to eat everything in sight. I chose the aforementioned cod fritters and gelato, as well as fruit salad, bread, and avocados (for a picnic). The avocados only cost 0.30€ for two. Completely amazing. If they were always that cheap I would probably eat nothing else. I really loved this place. There were bright colors everywhere and I felt quite European in there.
The Dock Area/Waterfront/Bay/Port Place (Honestly I can’t think of what it’s called)
Abby and I wanted to go to Montjuic, and I knew that you could get there by cablecar, which were located near the water. We walked across a bridge that separates the seaside area from the rest of the city to the water area, which was teeming with restaurants, a mall, and plenty of other touristy things. It was nice to see the ocean, as I’m used to having a giant lake to stare at whenever I feel like it, and Madrid is lacking in sizeable bodies of water. This area was nice but once we figured out that we could take the railcar to Montjuic and that it was far cheaper than the cable car, we left.
Montjuic
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| The view from Montjuic |
There are lots of museums on Montjuic, including the huge and fancy-looking Catalunyan Art Museum, which sits at the top of the hill. We walked around there a bit, checking out the great views and taking pictures of the extraordinary edifices (ok that’s just me using fancy words to impress you) there.
We finally made it to the one place I remembered from when I visited Montjuic in high school, El Poble Espanyol. Here you’ll find all of Spain within maybe half of a square mile. Each section of the Poble represents a different area of Spain. So really, if you go to Spain you only need to go El Poble Espanyol, because you’ll see everything there is to see here. Kidding. It’s a good place to do some touristy shopping though.
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| Path on Montjuic |
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| Not Sevilla |
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| Catalunyan Art Museum |
*NOTE*
You might notice that many words of places and such in this blog do not seem exactly Spanish, such as the word “Espanyol” and “Montjuic.” Well, they are Spanish, technically. Barcelona is the capital of Catalunya, Spain, where the language of Catalán is spoken. They also speak Castellano, which is what most people refer to as “Spanish.” Other Spanish languages include Gallego (spoken in Galicia) and Euskera (that weird Basque language that I wrote about in my Bilbao blog). Okay, end of lesson.
La Pedrera
This house was designed by Gaudi and is freaking cool. Gaudí is a total genius. I don’t know that I can say anything here that couldn’t be better shown in pictures.
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| Inside La Pedrera |
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| Me and my bestie, Gaudi |
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| The roof is the best part of the house. |
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| George Lucas's inspiration for Stormtroopers. Awesome. |
Barrio Gótico and New Friends
On the second night of our stay in Barcelona, we met up with a friend of my aunt’s, Francesc. She had told me to contact him if I was going to Barcelona so I did, not really knowing anything about him except the fact that he knew my aunt and was Spanish. We arranged to meet for dinner on Friday night. Abby and I got to the meeting point early and sat awkwardly for a while, trying to guess if any of the men hanging around the metro stop was Francesc, as I didn’t know what he looked like. Once it was a few minutes past the time to meet I called him and we headed over to the front of a café where Francesc and his girlfriend (whose name I cannot remember for the life of me and if you’re reading this I’m REALLY sorry, you were so nice and lovely, I’m just bad with names) were waiting. We did introductions and headed to a bar for wine and tapas before dinner. I found out that he knew my aunt through work, which explained a lot; I had assumed she’d met him when she studied abroad in Spain but when we finally met I saw that he was younger than her so I wasn’t sure how that happened. I still felt awkward but after a glass of wine my Spanish started to flow a little bit better and the four of us managed to have a nice conversation. When I mentioned how annoying it was that many times Spanish people will recognize my accent and just speak to me in English, Francesc said that he could speak English but wasn’t, because he knew we were here to learn Spanish. I really, really appreciated that. After the bar we went to a restaurant in the Gothic Quarter (Barrio Gótico) that had an outdoor courtyard and a two-piece jazz band playing. Abby and I had no idea what to order except for the “nachos” we saw on the menu (I use this term loosely), so we mostly left it up to the Barcelonans. Everything was delicious, even the sardines, which I am always skeptical about. As if he hadn’t treated us enough, Francesc asked if we wanted anything for dessert. We were SO full and at first we declined, but we had been eyeing the brownie dish on the menu and he persuaded us to order it. IT WAS SO DELICIOUS. Warm dark chocolate brownies speckled with nuts and topped with a cool, sweet raspberry sorbet… Where was I? Oh, right. By that time I’m afraid Abby and I weren’t the most entertaining guests as we both had colds and were completely exhausted from our day of walking around the city. After dinner we walked through the Barrio Gótico a bit more, we learned how to pronounce a Catalán word that I saw on a store window (“Rebaixas” which means “sales,” as in, discounts at a store: Ray-bye-shas – the x makes the “sh” sound. It’s so pretty), and Francesc and his girlfriend walked us to our metro stop on La Rambla. I would like to thank them again for being so nice to us and that if they are ever in Chicago, I hope to return the favor.
Sagrada Familia
We awoke early Saturday morning to go see the famous Templo de la Sagrada Familia, the huge cathedralesque temple designed by Gaudí (who else?). Construction of this building started in 1882 and still has not finished. Gaudí put literally every penny he had into this, and had no money to his name when he died after being hit by a streetcar, as illustrated by this children's book in the gift shop:
From far away this place looks like it is made of dripping wax, but up close you can see that the drops of wax are actually many sculptures carved into the concrete of the building. One side tells the story of the nativity, and the other the story of the crucifixion. I prefer this side: the sculptures are more stylized and angular, and, in my opinion, more expressive. Also, there were more Stormtroopers dressed up as Romans. We bought our tickets (note: when buying tickets there, be sure to also buy the lift ticket if you want to go up in the tower. There is no option of just going up stairs) and entered the massive doors. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect to find inside, but the interior is even more stunning than the outside, in my opinion. It’s held up by huge columns that look like tree trunks and sun streams in through the best stained glass windows I’ve ever seen. Again, pictures are better than words:
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| I like the fact that there's blood and Spike from Rugrats is sniffing him |
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| Outside on the Nativity side |
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| Note the Stormtrooper soldier creepily emerging from the wall |
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| Inside |
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| Beautiful stained glass |
We had to wait a while to go up into the tower, and it also cost about 2.50€ extra, but it was worth it. The view from the tower was amazing. We opted to walk all the way down instead of taking the lift (I refuse to say “elevator” because I am in Europe and British at heart) which might have been the best decision of the day. We were able to see the building from many perspectives, and, most importantly, we got to walk down the coolest and scariest spiral staircase ever created. There was a railing on only one side and I was certain that I would fall to my death down the middle of the spiral, but I survived, with some great photos to show for it.
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| View from a tower window |
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| We walked down all 400 steps. There was no railing on one side of the stairs. O_O |
Parc Güell
We decided to have a picnic at Parc Güell, so we stopped at La Boquería for supplies. We bought some brightly-colored fruit salads, bread, and avocados (two avocados for the equivalent of 41 cents. SO AWESOME) and headed to the Parc, which was designed by guess who? LITTLE DID WE KNOW that visiting Parc Güell consisted of walking up a nearly VERTICAL hill for what seemed to be miles and miles. There were a couple spots with outdoor escalators, but most of the time our calves were getting a workout. When we got to the top of the hill it looked like we were in the Southwest of the US. It was all desert-y looking shrubs and cacti everywhere. By the time we got up the hill we were so hungry that we just found a rock on which to have our picnic. We had a fantastic view of Barcelona, including the Sagrada Familia. A Barcelonan cat (or “gat” as they say) joined us briefly but left once she became bored with us and realized that we had no food she wanted. Our picnic was delightful, and I finally tried that bright pink on the outside, white on the inside fruit (dragonfruit?) that I kept seeing in the market. It didn’t really taste like anything, which was disappointing, but I enjoyed the chunk of raw coconut in there.
We also kept it classy by drinking straight from the box (yes, BOX, try not to be too amazed at our utter classiness) of sangria. After our picnic we took some Top Model-esque pictures where they did a photo shoot one season. Here are some pictures of the place.
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| View from our rock |
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| Gat! |
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| Fierce! |
Las Ramblas
This is what I’d consider the main touristy street in Barcelona. Las Ramblas is pedestrian-only down the middle and is lined with newspaper stands selling the typical “Barcelona” bags, postcards, scarves, magnets, pretty much anything a foreigner could want to bring back home to their friends. There are also more street performers here than I’ve ever seen in one place. And by street performers I mostly mean the people that paint themselves completely and stand very still so you can get a picture with them. I do wonder exactly how much money they make. There is another type of person that calls Las Ramblas home: the man selling squeaky mouth things. I’m not even sure what they’re called or why they exist. All I know is that I have the strong desire to punch them in the face when they're demonstrating their product, loudly, in the street, in your ear. I just tried for like a half an hour to find a video to show you why I have the desire to hurt these people but I couldn’t. I live in fear that these people will have made their way to Chicago by the time I get back. Thankfully, I know this annoyance would never be tolerated in my fair city.
Sorry, got sidetracked. There are also lots of shops and restaurants lining Las Ramblas, so this is a good place to go if you want to do a bit of shopping or get a bite to eat. The entrance of La Boquería is also just off of this street.
Barcelona By Night
While we were too tired to go out and party all night, Abby and I did make sure to see some of the city lit up. On our last night we walked around the city taking some night pictures (which I have decided is going to be my new thing). We started at Sagrada Familia, which is stunning and definitely worth going back to see in the dark. They light it up really nicely.
At the front gates we met a bachelor party dressed up as cardinals and the Pope. As the “Pope” was talking to us about the time-honored Spanish tradition of the bachelor party, he dropped his grocery bag, spilling condoms and Chupa Chups lollipops all over the concrete. He offered us some but we declined, and just helped to pick them up (DON’T WORRY everyone, they were still in the wrappers). Next we walked over to Torre Agbar, or Agbar Tower, which took a bit longer than we had anticipated. This tower is in (as far as I can tell) the business district of Barcelona and it is shaped like a torpedo that’s been stuck vertically in the ground. It just looks kind of gray during the day but at night it lights up in all different colors. When we were there it was red and blue.
We ended the night getting gelato (chocolate and crema catalana for me, delish) and taking picture of Casa Batlló from a bench (we were really tired).
We definitely packed a lot into that weekend. Our flight back to Madrid was at 7:45 in the morning and after a horrific journey to the airport (involving a very drunk man on the metro and then not being able to find the metro connecting to the airport and no open cabs), we stopped at the airport McDonalds, thanks to their brilliantly simple marketing making me want McDonald’s more than anything in the world.
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| What convinced me that I NEEDED a Sausage McMuffin RIGHT NOW. I don't ever even eat at McDonald's at home. |
FUN FACT: Even McDonald’s has fresh-squeezed orange juice in Spain. And it was GOOD.
We made it to the plane just in time. After we landed, I took the metro home and crashed on my bed and stayed there for the next three hours. It was a great weekend, and I was utterly exhausted.
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