I had the wonderful pleasure of visiting Barcelona two weeks ago. Better yet I got to experience the wonderful city with my parents. I was eager to see them and share my knowledge of Spanish culture with them through first hand experiences. My journey started out rocky, as always I guess. Thursday afternoon I took the usual bus from Valverde to Huelva. I was faced with the same situation as before where I arrived just in time to make the 6pm bus but the bus driver wouldn’t let me buy my ticket on the bus and told me to go to the ticket booth. Once again he told me to leave my luggage below and as before I begrudgingly obliged. I had a little comfort knowing that the man behind me also left his luggage below and was behind me in line to buy tickets. I finally bought my ticket and ran to the bus. The bus was gone. The man and me were fuming. The bus driver acknowledged that we had luggage on his bus and were buying tickets and yet continued to leave without giving us the courtesy of a heads up or leaving our baggage behind. I then proceeded to send an angry, fowl-mouthed text message to my dad telling him what just happened. The man and I went up to the head security guard and told him what happened. The guard said he would contact the bus when it got to Seville and he told us not to worry—“No te preocupes. No pasa nada.” I just scowled at the man and walked away. Don’t tell me not to worry. For all I know my luggage will end up like my mom’s friend Lenore’s (it’s a long story but basically rebels stole it from a bus in Africa and then demanded money for its return which never happened).
So an hour later than I intended to arrive in Seville the man and I went searching for the Damas office. We found a little office with both of our bags in a corner (thank god). We both went in but another bus driver who was driving by told us to wait outside for him to assist us. We both waited for the man but after 5 minutes I was like f* this, this is ridiculous and I shouldn’t have to wait anymore. We both retrieved our bags and departed. I told you, every time I ride a bus something happens. Oh and it’s never once been a good thing. Ay dios mio.
Since my flight to Barcelona was at 9am on Friday I was forced to spend Thursday night in Seville and thankfully I had a couch to sleep on at Emily’s (once again). I really enjoy Emily and all of her roommates. They are always so welcoming and they treat me like a fourth roommate. We spent the night exchanging stories about our travels and comparing future plans for after Spain. I invited Emily to accompany me on my final trip in June because I knew she didn’t have any plans and was just going to go home right after school ended but she politely declined. She too was ready to go home and didn’t want to postpone it any longer than necessary. Nicole, one of Emily’s roommates, gave me all kinds of suggestions on what to do and see in Athens so that was really helpful as well.
Friday morning I hauled a taxi and made my way to the airport. After checking in I stopped in the small bookshelf and noticed that they did indeed carry books in English, Hooray! I was going to purchase the third and final book from the Millennium series, which I was dyeing to read, but alas I only had 10 Euros and the book was 15 and the man wouldn’t accept a card. So close! After a delay in boarding the plane I was finally in my seat. Unfortunately for me I was placed in the middle of this large group of Spanish friends, aging around 26 years old, all flying in a plane for the first time. First off all of them talked extremely loud, like unnecessary loud, and they were right next to each other. Second, the man behind me, who I figured was like the ring leader of the group, kept poking his head in between my seat to talk to his friends as well as constantly knocking my seat. Third there were an incessant number of pictures being taken. I understand being excited about flying for the first time but they were adults for crying out loud, get a grip. The best part was take-off. The two girls next to me sandwiched me against the window in order to see out the window and every little sound or jolt that the plane made released an equal exasperation or cry of worry from everyone in the group. I was in hell. I tried to rest my eyes/fall asleep but every so often the girl next to me would reach over and adjust the window shade. First it was up, and then it was down, and then it was halfway up, and then it was down again, and so forth. I needed the plane to land IMMEDIATELY. We finally landed in Barcelona and people began to disembark. When the first few people from the large group were just about at the door then decided to stop and wait for the rest of the group. That’s great except for the fact that in a one-man aisle you can’t exactly pass people. Finally the flight attendant told them to continue moving outside of the plane. At last I was free!!!! Maybe it was one of those situations where one thing sets you off and therefore any little thing starts to bother you or maybe any normal person would have been equally bothered as I was, I just don’t know.
Once I retrieved my luggage from the conveyor belt I received a text message from my dad saying that they missed their flight and that it would be another hour before they would arrive in the airport. No pasa nada. At last I was reunited with parents and we made our way to the hotel. And it was smooth sailing from there…
After settling into the hotel our first mission was food. We found a typical tapas restaurant and so the sampling of traditional Spanish cuisine began. While both my parents were eager to try tapas they aren’t the best things to eat when you’re starving and in true tapas form each one came out as a bite size. They were good but not filling. After lunch we commenced the touring of Barcelona by doing the most obvious touristic thing possible: riding the big blue double-decker bus complete with matching blue headphones. First major stop was the Sagrada Familia aka Gaudi overload, and that’s being generous. He incorporated numerous architectural styles within one building, all resembling something in nature for that was his inspiration. He was so consumed with the Sagrada Familia that he never got the chance to finish it and so the community of Barcelona have taken over the construction of one half of the façade. The entrance fee every person pays to visit the Gaudi masterpiece goes towards eventually finishing the construction of it. I liked several of Gaudi’s favorite architectural styles, like spirals or the wave, but all of it together is a bit overwhelming for my taste. My dad wasn’t a big fan of Gaudi’s but that’s because he’s a simplest. He prefers Frank Lloyd Wright, but who can blame him, there practically twins :)
After the Sagrada we rode the bus all the way around the red line until we were back in front of our hotel. After the bus we got some gelato and then it was time for a siesta. Since my mother can’t nap I took advantage of our alone time to talk everything and anything on my mind. I relished our alone time because I finally got the chance to talk about things that I’ve been thinking about for a long time, I’m talking for three or more months. I do send emails fairly regularly to both my parents but talking in person is far superior to emails for it allows me to change the topic at a whim or go off on another tangent completely, you know the kinds of things you can only really do in person. Before we knew it three or so hours had passed and it was time to get ready for dinner. I had also planned on going out that night and meeting up with one of the guys I met in Prague so I needed a little more time than usual to get ready.
The receptionist gave us a card with directions to a good Spanish restaurant, not tapas. The map in which I was following was completely wrong so it took us a little more time than expected to find the restaurant but we did find it. I only had to ask for directions once. We had a lovely dinner, everyone trying something different and as usual we were one of maybe four other tables of people, all foreigners who eat at normal eating hours (8-10pm). We didn’t get back to the hotel until around one. I said goodnight to my parents and then headed out to meet up with Pau. I took the metro for the first time all the way to his University. I was a little nervous riding by myself at 2am but as soon as I got on a car I felt safer since there were other young people around. I got to the metro stop and waited for Pau. He didn’t show up for another 15 minutes and I almost didn’t recognize him since he now was sporting a mustache (lol). Instead of going out on the town to a club he brought me to a math party. Haha before you judge you should know that they only have this big party at the end of the year and everyone from all of the departments tries to get into it. You need a nametag equipped with a mathematical number in order to get it. That’s VIP for ya. Pau managed to find a number nametag on the ground and was able to re-stick it to my shirt so I was good to go. After the stampede to get inside it was awesome. We were in this enormous courtyard full of people and lights strung up. At one end they had a huge stage with live music and at the other end a huge tent to buy drinks.
In true Spanish form there were three steps in order to obtain a drink. Step 1: Buy cup for 1 Euro. When you return the cup, you get the Euro back. The cup had a giant backwards E with an exclamation point (only at a math party) on it. Naturally I wanted to keep the cup since it had my initial on it. Step 2: purchase ticket stub at a different tent that is a certain color that then pertains to the drink you prefer. Once you finally get your stub you have to make your way to the other enormous tent/man-made bar where all the booze is held where you engage in Step 3: clawing and elbowing your way to the bar and then screaming bloody murder until someone waits on you and brings you your half full cup of whatever drink you asked for, in my case Sangria. That alone took half an hour.
With my drink in hand it was out to the “dance floor”. I met a bunch of Pau’s friends and listened to the Catalan music. We talked half the time in Spanish; well mine was more like Spanglesh and the other half in English. He speaks really good English so when we got to more advanced topics that was the language of preference. I had a really nice time and I enjoyed hanging out with him. The math party started at 5pm and was supposed to end at 5am. We didn’t make it that long because Pau was tired and I so was I (but I didn’t tell him that). At 4:30am we both managed to hail taxis and part ways. We were going to meet up the next night to go to an actual dance club but that never happened because the soccer game got out to late. When I told Pau that I was going to Istanbul he was so jealous because that’s one of the cities he really wanted to visit. I extended an invitation to him to join me on my adventure but he doesn’t have the money to go at the moment. Que lastima!
The next day (Saturday) nobody got out of bed until 11:00am. That is the latest I have ever seen my parents sleep, particularly my dad. With our late start to the day we quickly ate breakfast and then headed straight for the double-decker buses. This time we were going to take the blue line. It was rather peaceful on top of the bus. We got a wonderful tour of all of Barcelona. We saw the beautiful port, we rode all the way up to Mount Jew (Montejuic) and back down, through the commercial area of Barcelona and then got off at the Barrio Gothic. It was here that my parents suffered their first major tiff of the trip. It was bound to happen; I just tried to mediate it as best as I could. The discovery of a place to eat brought an end to the misunderstanding. The restaurant was another tapas place but this time the portions were a bit bigger. The food was delightful and the atmosphere of the place was gorgeous. It had brick archways down one side of the wall and this elegant black wall on the other. It was really a marvelous place to eat. After lunch we made our way back to the hotel via Las Ramblas, the most famous street in Barcelona.
Las Ramblas is home to various street performers, street vendors, and pickpockets. As I recalled when I was on this street 9 years ago it had more street artists, marionette or puppet people, and as usual people dressed as statues. This time around the place had a section dedicated to flowers and another to animals. They had the cutest little bunny rabbit. I guess as times change so does Las Ramblas. In order to avoid another squabble we suggested dad head back to the hotel while mom and I shopped for postcards. After postcards we hit up the Official FC Barcelona store and then this store I had never heard of called Disigual. I later found out that they have them all over the world (one in NYC and another in LA) but this was the first time I had seen one. I loved the store because the clothes were so colorful and full of patterns and designs. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen in an American store. If you wore something from that store you were bound to stand out, but in a good way and you also didn’t have to worry about someone wearing else the same shirt, skirt, jacket, or dress.
It was finally time to make our way to the Espanyol Stadium. Too bad we weren’t entirely sure which stadium to go to. We received conflicting information about where to go from people, audio phones, and the Internet. Espanyol’s own website had the wrong stadium on it. In the end we decided to go with the directions that the ticket lady told us. Logical thinking made me deduce that she would know better than anyone else. Sure enough once we got on the metro fans surrounded us from both Espanyol and Barcelona so we knew we were going to the correct stadium. It didn’t take us long to reach the stadium from the metro stop and then again to find our gate to enter. To my surprise our seats were the third row from the corner flag. However barbed wire on one side and Plexiglas on the other two encapsulated us. I felt like I was in a cage. I ended up with some pretty good close ups of the players, mainly Pique, so it wasn’t a total loss. Nobody sat in front of us nor were there smokers in close proximity so that was another plus. Yes we had things obstructing our view at times but it was cool to be that close to the flag and sandwiched between the diehard Espanyol fans and the minuscule Barcelona section. Also I got some decent videos of the fans chanting. The environment throughout the entire game was awesome. The fans chanted the whole time and it was very loud. The game was also very entertaining. I would even go so far to say that the Espanyol fans were more passionate then some of the fans I’ve experienced in England. It wasn’t until the game ended that we got a little upset. Our section for some reason was not allowed to leave when the rest of the stadium departed. I think we waited an extra 45 minutes or so before we were able to leave. We tried to find our metro stop but ended up finding a different stop. It ended up going to the same place but required extra money.
When our metro train approached I did what I always do and found an empty gap close to the edge to assert myself into the car. As I moved to the gap I noticed in the corner of my eye a man following me to the same spot. I know it’s normal to push and gather once the door or the cars get closer but this guy was all up in my grill and unnecessarily so. The doors opened and I squeezed my way through. It wasn’t until I found an empty spot to stand and turned around did I notice my dad coming in a little behind me. As the doors were about to close I noticed the man that was invading my bubble get off the car. It wasn’t until the train started moving that my dad told me two guys tried to pickpocket him and that same guy was one of them. Apparently that man and another buddy sandwiched my dad so that he couldn’t move once people started boarding the car and put their hands in my dad’s pants pockets. Ha ha, little did they know that my dad hides his money and other valuable things in a different place. My dad said he was about to give one of the guys an elbow to the face but refrained because he knew that it would only get him in trouble. After comparing each others recollections of the men we came to the conclusion that I must have been the target at first but since I squeezed in to quick and my dad tried to get on to the car right after me he became the new target. As we were discussing this a man who spoke a little English asked us if we were pick pocketed and when we said yes he offered to report the incident for us. We told him that it wasn’t necessary, that the men had gotten off the train already, and that we were getting off at the next station but he was very insistent. He found the security guard and I guess told him about our incident because we had to get off as the man was talking to the guard. We were impressed that the random guy was so adamant about reporting the crime.
As we got off the metro escalator my dad informed us that once again the man behind him on the escalator tried to pickpocket him. Yes, that’s correct, that would be two pickpocket attempts on my dad in one metro ride. The man literally put his hand in my dad’s pockets while my dad’s hands were still in them. My dad just turned around and glared at him. He said the next person that pulls something like this is going to get an elbow in the face, no holding back anymore. I guess my dad just screams “FOREIGNER” or “PICKPOCKET TARGET”. At dinner we all just laughed it off. We were eating like true Spaniards at 11pm that night. I got a kick out of the menu because the English translations for some of the words weren’t exactly correct. For example, chicken was spelled “chichen” and oven potatoes were spelled “owen potatoes”. It was cute. The best moment at dinner was when the waiter asked if we preferred plain bread or tomato bread and in unison my dad said “tomato bread” and my mom said “plain bread”. That moment couldn’t of summed up my parents any better lol.
We slept in again on Sunday, but not as bad as Saturday. Instead of stopping for breakfast we headed straight to the Picasso Museum. We all really enjoyed seeing Picasso’s work. We were all pleasantly surprised by his pottery work. If they were for sale I’m fairly certain we would have come home with one or maybe even two plates. This is one of the few museums that I’ve visited during my travels that I was really interested in but even that wasn’t enough to keep me awake. I can’t help it but museums make me sleepy. After Picasso it was lunchtime. After a nice lunch with very good bread we grabbed a smoothie and then found the metro and walked to the FC Barcelona stadium, Camp Nou. Unfortunately we were about two hours to late. I guess that was the one thing we didn’t accomplish, a stadium tour of Camp Nou or going to the FC Barcelona Museum. Of well, just another reason to return I guess. One’s loss is another’s gain for now we had more time to explore Parque Guell: home to the renowned Gaudi lizard that I had been taking about from day one. It was the one and only defining feature I could remember from my trip to Barcelona in the 8th grade besides Las Ramblas.
We walked part way up the steep hill and part way by escalator. Without the assistance of the escalator I don’t think half the people at the park could have made up there. It was quite a hill. The view from the park of the city was spectacular. We especially enjoyed the fact that Las Ramblas was so clearly visible due to the fact that the street was lined with large green trees. I really enjoyed the curved cave and the wavy bench. Both were unmistakably Gaudi as well as the museum and the castle like structure. My mother really enjoyed the music that was playing in the main area. She liked the guitar so much that she bought the group’s CD. All I could think about when I heard the music was the scene from Vicky Christina Barcelona when Vicky and the guy go to listen to the Spanish guitar and Vicky is so moved by the music that she cries. It’s so Barcelona. After spending a great deal of time at the park we ventured by way of metro over to the Magic Fountain for dinner and then for the show at the fountain. It took us a very long time to find a place to eat but once we settled on a place we were very happy with our choice. After our meal we could hear the sounds of a futbol game being played in the other room so we went over to watch ourselves. I chatted with one of the waiters about our mutual preference for Madrid over Barcelona in the city where it is forbidden to speak about the Madradistas. They were really nice and we tipped them for their kind service. When we got to the fountain we realized that the show was only from May – October. All that for nothing. At best it gave us an excuse to revisit another part of Barcelona that we hadn’t had time to see when we were on the bus.
The next morning was our last morning in Barcelona. Mother and I took that time to shop at stores that we had passed the day before but didn’t have a chance to go into. With my assistance my mother was able to purchase gifts for just about everyone on her list, which let me tell you was no easy task. In one store my mother analyzed every piece of pottery they had, which took a good 15-20 minutes, only to come out of the store with a thimble. Let’s just say it was a good thing my father wasn’t with us. I also came away with a skirt so it was a good morning.
At noon it was time to say our goodbyes to Barcelona and head to the airport. On the way to the airport our taxi driver was distracted by his conversation with a fellow taxi driver that he lightly hit the car in front of us. The car honked and the man yelled and our taxi driver just replied with “no pasa nada!” That’s how it works; nobody gets out of their cars and threatens to sue each other. They say no big deal and go on with life. No es importa. And that’s how we left Barcelona.
We were all in agreement that the city was fabulous and had this special sparkle to it that you don’t find everywhere you go. I don’t know what it would be like teaching English in Barcelona but I could see myself spending more time there. I feel like there is so much more to experience. I welcome the chance to visit it in the future. Possible destination wedding???!?! (just kidding)
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