Of Beaches and Sangria

Barcelona



22 April

Our last morning in Marseille began with a proper french baguette for the road on our way to Barcelona. Somehow, between the group switch-offs and planning snafu's, this was the first and last time I went to the airport with these people. 

You've gotta catch those z's whenever you can.
Somehow Anna and I got sat next to each other on the plane.

Finding our way to the hostel via metro.

I claimed my bed :)
I was in a separate room from the others on my first night

Mmmm lunch!
This was the result of our 20 minute mimed
conversation with some locals.

When we got settled in the hostel, it was clear that everyone else was on the verge of sleep, so I - eager to see the city - decided to escape the room in search of a grocery store and fun walk accompanied by Anna B. After scavenging up some food, we hiked to top of a hill in a park nearby and got a great view of Barcelona. 

We left when it started raining, deciding to get everyone together for some Barcelona exploration in the actual city. We took the metro into city centre where we explored for only a little while before stopping for dinner. In my effort to save money, and because I had gotten groceries earlier, I had a glass from the table's pitcher of sangria but didn't order any food. This turned out to be for the best because, when the others’ food did come out, it was tiny. And expensive. Apparently, and as our tour guide would tell us the next day; restaurants on this street were notorious for being horrible tourist traps. Oops. Well, at least I escaped that one unscathed and was able to watch on bemusedly at the others’ faces when their food came out. 

After dinner, we went to the harbour, searched unsuccessfully for an open loo at 11 pm, saw the Columbus tower, and went home.

The harbour

23 April

In the morning, I ate more of my groceries from the day previous before we departed for our scheduled tour at 11 am. On the way there, we noticed that lots of girls were carrying flowers and speculated among ourselves as to whether something was going on or if guys here were just more gentlemanly. However, we ended up not catching the 11 am tour, decided to try again with the 1 pm, and sacrificed greatly by heading to the beach in the meantime.

These chairs were too good to be true.
They lay them out just to taunt you then
try to charge you for using them.

Eventually we did leave in order to meet up with our tour. 

First stop:
The steps on which Columbus met with the king and queen
to tell them about his discovery of America.

At some point in the middle of our tour, we stopped by the square in front of city hall - bustling with people and surrounded by shopping and culture - so that our tour guide could explain to us the reason for all the roses everywhere. Turns out, we were lucky enough to be visiting Barcelona on St Jorges Day, an important national holiday, commemorating an old story in which St George slayed a dragon to save a princess (that is the shortened version, obviously!). It is celebrated today by an exchange in which men give roses to women and women respond with books for the men. Sexist though it may sound, I chose to withhold judgement as this exchange actually fit with the story and seemed to be an adorable holiday nonetheless.

Just the normal everyday beauty of Spain.

Historic fountains in the park where our tour ended.

When the tour had ended, we hung out in a park nearby before getting dinner and eventually stumbling across a truly amazing holiday celebration nearby in the square mentioned earlier. All around us, people were exchanging books and flowers, there were booths set up selling both, and wherever you looked, there were people dancing in a way I had never seen before. They were in circles, hands joined, and were moving their feet intricately and in synchrony. Amazed, I was determined to learn quickly and join a group (as others just joining the festivities seemed to be doing and were welcomed joyously and immediately). I would learn a dance, be just ready to join in, then the song would change. Honestly, it just didn't work out, but I couldn't help but feel that we were experiencing the core of culture firsthand. It was amazing.

24 April

The next morning began with Park Guell as our first item on the to-see list. We made it to the area alright, but as we were emerging from the subway, we realised immediately that we didn’t know where we were going and automatically gravitated toward the map displayed nearby. It was then that our angel appeared – knowing nothing but that we were a group of lost-looking tourists hovering around a map – and approached us, asked if we were trying to go to Park Guell, then kindly explained to us in English how to get there. Honestly, I was so thrown off by how unbelievably kind people are that I didn’t pay any attention to the directions and forgot about 5 seconds later. Luckily, others in my group were less easily distracted and before long we were hiking our way up to the park. 

It was a bit of a hike...

When we had seen all of Park Guell that we could possibly desire, it was time to head back to the beach! 

Meet Passig de Gracia, the world's longest metro hallway.

TJ lost his legs.

For some reason, this seemed funny to people... it was cold!

25 April

The next day began with the realisation that we were waking up later and later every day. All I can say in our defense is that we were just running on our reserves of energy. Plus, we were sleeping through breakfast and only spending money on lunch and dinner #moneysavingtechniques.

A technique that unfortunately wasn't oh so money-saving was Anna G's in getting pickpocket-ed. Yupp, busy metro's in Barcelona, people... BEWARE.

We were all very aware and cautious to begin with, but by being faced second-hand with the real-life consequences... our anti-pickpocketing techniques became almost comical. All I'll say here is that stances were donned, circular-group-standing-formations became the standard, and when we walked on a metro, other people began checking their belongings too.

Though Anna's wallet was a little lighter, our end destination of the Sagrada Familia was eventually reached, via long queues and all.

We were told it was going to rain.
We actually ended up using our umbrella to save us from the
scorching sun during our wait in the longest queue ever.

The crowd controller split me up from the rest of our group.
Anna wasn't happy.

Uhhhhh.... yeah, the wait was worth it.

At dinner later that night, this super nice man came around and gave little elephants to all the girls in the restaurant. He said that in the Spanish culture, they were supposed to bring you good luck, so he wished us good luck in our travels. Basically, it was the greatest thing ever.

26 April

I'll spare you all the boring details, but all that was left to do the next day was to pack up, leave the hostel, kiss mainland Europe goodbye, then endure the endless process that was getting back to Bristol before reveling in the pure madness that it felt to be back at home.

This is what I love about hostels.