Many Men Snore--And Other Things I Learned in Barcelona

My week in Barcelona was something of a beautiful mess.
Gardens, museums, paintings, stained glass windows, sweets, and rain were all absorbed like my very absorbent Converse sneakers--which were only dry for 2 out of my seven days there.
There is a saying: It never rains in Barcelona. But for me, the weather made an exception. It rained every. single. day. (excluding my first and last days there). Wet socks, however, did not keep me from fun. Even beneath the grey drippy sky, Barcelona is a beautiful city, and, as if trying to make amends, the clouds cleared away nearly every afternoon or evening.
The trip began as most trips do: with stress.

Due to some rubbish cab driver in Norwich, Sarah missed her train and the later train was scheduled to arrive at the airport leaving little time to get through security. Sarah, relieving us both, arrived with time to spare.
Arriving in Spain, however, we realised our own foolishness in not having printed a map on how to get from our bus stop to our hostel.
After three confusing phone calls, we arrived at Backpackers BCN Casanova.
The hostel was nice and small, and it came as a surprise that the rooms were mixed gender. The only problems I encountered sharing the room with male strangers were that many hadn't learned personal hygiene, and, a bigger issue: many men snore. I am a light sleeper. Add to that the fact that some guests arrived after one in the morning, nearly every day, banging open the door and fumbling with lockers, and the nights were not quite serene. Thank God I brought ear plugs.



Sarah and I got to enjoy the living room area, where every other night snacks were laid out near the games (I lost at Connect 4, Uno, Checkers, Chess and Dominoes). One night, when Sarah and I had gone after the olives and cheese snacks, we found our space invaded. Not to be dissuaded from the snacks we had come to rely on, we sat down, played War, and eventually got into conversation with a soft-speaking German man and a charismatic, slightly vain Australian bloke. Funny and crazy stories were swapped (getting kidnapped: the fastest mode of travel in Bali). It was a fun way to pass the evening and self-righteously feel culturally superior "Oh yeah, I had cheese and wine while sharing funny stories with this German guy and Australian guy in Barcelona one time."

But the real fun was in the city.
Something some of you may not know--I surely didn't--is that Spanish is not the main language spoken in Barcelona. It's Catalan: a weird mixture of Spanish and French, it seems, with lots of words utilising the letter 'X'. That means that most signs around the city are translated into 3 languages: Catalan, Spanish, and English. Lucky for me, everyone also speaks Spanish, and I got by, although sometimes understanding their Spanish felt equivalent to an American understanding a Scottish person's English.
The main street (which I have walked up and down too many times to count) is called La Rambla. It's the kind of scene I love: vendors, street performers, bright colors and cheap souvenirs spread down the street. There were also men that sold some kind of abominably annoying squeaky toy. By the end of the week, Sarah and I were ready to commit murder. We couldn't imagine any sane parent that could be foolish enough (or have the grace and patience) to buy their children that annoying squeaking monster.
So I bought one for my sister, Natalie. JUST KIDDING PARENTS! =)
On La Rambla




There were also many street performers on La Rambla. All of them were human statues. These impressive folks dress entirely in one color, painting their faces and hair so that they really look like statues, until they decide to move.


Down one of the branching streets is the opening to the St. Josep market, which is home to the most brightly coloured, luscious looking fruit I've ever seen. There are vendors of fruits, fish, meat, nuts, peppers and vegetables to delight anyone.






My first day, my major successes were finding the Catedral Barcelona, getting a lay of the land, and trying for the first time--how had I never had it before?--churros con chocolate!
In fact, let me pause this narrative right now to list some of the AMAZING sweets I devoured in Barca.
-Churros con Chocolate
-Ferrero Rocher gelato
-Chocolate croissant
-Toblerone shake (think McDonald's McFlurry onliny with bits of Toblerone chocolate and caramel drizzled over it!)

I know, I know, that's a lot of unhealthy food In my defense: are you crazy? There's absolutely no defense necessary! When life (and Barcelona shops) offer you Rocher gelato, you don't turn that stuff down!

Similar to the amounts of chocolate, I also shoved in as much beauty as I could. Some of the most gorgeous sights:
La Sagrada Familia's beautiful stained glass windows


The view from Castell (Castillo for you Spanish speakers)


And the gardens near the Olympic Stadium.




There are also a lot of streetlamps, which I felt compelled to photograph.


Some of the cultural spots we hit were the Olympic Museum and Stadium, the Picasso Museum, the Barcelona Arc de Triumph and Casa Batillo.



DINNER
Moving on to meals. Trying to be financially smart (and also being too lazy at the end of walking around all day) 2 of the nights, Sarah and I cooked a frozen pizza in the hostel kitchen It was Spinach pizza, and it was pretty darn good.
The meals we had out, were also, obviously great.
Perhaps the most fun was eating at the Bar Estudiantil while watching the Barcelona football match against AC Milan (don't hold me to that, I don't know team names well and I'm too lazy/tired upon my return to double check it). The burger and fries were good, but the most entertaining part of the meal was watching the reactions of the locals watching the game. Victorious cheers and a foghorn was blown at each goal scored, the men inside sang a little ditty. Our waiter was exceptionally nice and placed our table directly in front of the TV screen in the dining area outside, so we had a perfect view of the game. Stuffed with good food and happy, victorious feelings, we walked back to the hostel.
Another night, being in Spain, Sarah and I went out for Tapas. Actually finding a place that sold appetizing tapas at an affordable price proved more vexing than we had anticipated. I didn't make things easier by saying I flat out refused to eat paella, the delicacy of Spain, as my olfactory memories of it were stomach churning, to say the least.
We finally found a place and I clumsily ordered (the whole menu was written in Catalan and, of course, the man at the register seemed to expect me to know that the word Truita obviously is pronounced 'tortilla') But we ordered and received out Tapas.

Quick Review:
-Patatas in garlic cream sauce and salsa picante=muy rico.
-Croquettas: weird consistency and not even close to as good as the one Yeya (my grandmother) makes
-Ruca Salad: never again.
-Truita/Tortilla/Whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-call-it: much like the breakfast casserole that BZ makes at home. Pretty darn good.

The major hardship when I first arrived was the total breakdown of Old Faithful, BZ's camera that she had let me borrow. It meant, however, that I got to buy my first new camera since I was fourteen years old. It's a Nikon Coolpix, for anyone that cares, and all the pictures posted above are courtesy of my kick-culo new camera.

I may add more another day. But now I am tired, I've been traveling all day, and am ready for a night's rest without any men's snoring to keep me awake.

Barcelona was absolutely fun, I leave for Dublin in a few days, which hopefully will be equally fun.

I leave you with a video of the penguins from the Barcelona Aquarium...mostly cause they're so cute.