It occurred to me yesterday on the plane, how odd it seemed that I was experiencing the familiar feelings of peaceful anticipation that accompany a return "home" from vacation. The oddness didn't come from the feelings themselves, though-- it came instead from the realization that I was experiencing them on my way to Paris, France. I had spent a wonderful week in Barcelona, but was by no means upset at the idea of settling back in to the familiar--my own bed, streets and a metro system I know, a language that I'm at least basically functional in (I thought my Spanish was bad--Català was an entirely different issue)--you get the idea. Here's the point: somehow I'm making Paris my home. Leaving it was one of the first real indications of that, and I find this both wonderful and...bizarre. Since when does Emilee Head call some town in Europe home?
That said, I think it's time to backtrack and discuss the trip itself. This is where I start wishing I had some pictures to post--I think having them would aid me in the recap/explanation. But alas, I wasn't able to recharge my camera batteries, and have to wait until a couple of kind friends share theirs with me. Or perhaps I will find some pictures online, just to make do.
I left home for the aeroport fairly early on Sunday morning, thankful for the clear, relatively warm weather that made getting places nearly hassle-less. Loaded myself and my backpack (light packer!) onto a garish orange plane (cheap tickets!), and arrived in the outskirts of Barcelona a little after lunchtime. I had flown in on my own, so read and listened to my ipod in baggage claim until my friends' plane arrived. (I spent the trip with three friends who are here with the same organization--David, Courtney, and Joanna.) By the time we found our hostel a few hours later, we were excited to throw down our bags and stretch out for a late-afternoon nap.
Around eight, we ventured out to see what kind of food we could scrounge up at such an early hour (most places in Barcelona don't serve dinner until at least nine in the evening). We walked a couple of blocks onto La Rambla (a wide avenue running north to south towards the sea, full of outdoor dining at night and street perfomers, flower and bird markets, and tourists during the day). For dinner: TAPAS. I had never had tapas before, so it was quite fun (and yummy) to do it with my friends. In case you don't know what tapas is, it's basically ordering lots and lots of appetizers to share around the table as the main meal. In Barcelona, this means patatas bravas, calamari, olives, cheese, prawns, etc. And yes, I ate seafood and liked it. Who'dve ever thunk it? After our late dinner, we met up with a friend of Joanna's from the States, who took us to a very cool jazz club, where we spent our time listening, screaming at each other over the music, and dancing until around 3h30.
Ok, I'm starting to realize a couple of things about this play-by-play I'm providing for you. Number one, it's probably not a very fun way to read about my trip. Number two, I'm not in the mood to post a six-thousand word entry. So. I'm going to start consolidating!
In addition to Barcelona's inherent coolness (and probably due, in part, to) is its location. In case you didn't know, that location is in the south east of Spain, on the Mediterranean Sea. Barcelona has a very carefree, casual air about it. It seems to be more about fun than sophistication, and I attribute this, in part, to the fact that it's located at the Sea, and enjoys temperate weather all year. Yes, more than once, we went down to the beach (at the end of October!) and just enjoyed the sand (we also "enjoyed" the sand long after leaving the beach ;), breezes, and...what am I doing? You all know how cool the beach is. The water of the Mediterranean was a deep blue--not the opaque gray of the Atlantic. Beautiful. Did I mention all of this was within walking distance from our hostel?
I mentioned walking distance--and we did a lot of that. It was quite nice, though, to be able to get most places on foot, enjoying the beautiful weather, and having the opportunity to see the city from above ground. The buildings in Barcelona are nice, in general--many of them are quite ornate, with intricate cast-iron balconies, large shutters, and the like. Every once in a while on the Passeig de Gràcia, however, you stumble upon one of Gaudí's masterpieces--sinuous, organic façades both fantastic and strange. It's been said that he created architecture's version of Art Nouveau. His façades make up only a small part of Gaudí's extensive presence in the city, though. We also trekked up to the park he designed in the hills, Parc Guëll, and walked around the Sagrada Familia church, which he designed and began--but is still under construction. Maybe I'll get some pictures up eventually, but just in case I don't, and in case you don't know what all of this looks like--you should look up some pictures. I'm not even pretending to do a good job of describing this stuff to you, and even if I was--you'd need to see it, anyway.
I'm getting quite tired of typing this entry, to be honest. I hope I've managed to give some slight idea of my trip to Barcelona, even though I've done a bit of a shoddy job with my writing. Forgive me? I'm just finding it very frustrating to put my experience of this trip into writing at the moment. So. Bona Noche! (That's Catalàn.)
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