What I’m actually going to do is skip a few weeks and blog for a bit about my recent trip to Spain. I really really liked what I saw along Spain’s northeastern coast and, after suggestion from my mom, I’ve decided to write about it while it’s still fresh. ¡Vamos!
Mang-git and I had been discussing this Spanish excursion since probably January when Mang-git had first proposed his visit. Because Brad has been in and out of Barcelona since he got to Spain in mid-February, we figured we had a really great opportunity to visit friends and explore Spain before us. I will quickly clarify that Brad is studying abroad for the semester in Spain, in a town called Zaragoza. Zaragoza is several hours outside of Barcelona; Brad does not live in Barcelona. He did, however, know where to stay and what to do while there.
Back to the story.
After working with my schedule, Brad’s schedule, and Ryanair’s flight schedule, we decide to leave for Spain last Wednesday, the 6th. Ryanair is this fairly cheap European airline from Ireland that just recently started service out of Bavaria. Ryanain is wonderfully cheap when booked in advance and accomplishes its low prices partially by flying out of little airports well outside of major cities. In our case, flying from Munich to Barcelona, we were actually flying from Memmingin to Girona, which requires a little bit of additional travel to and from these little airports and the cities. As a result, we ended up leaving my room at 8:00 for a 12:10 flight.
Everything went according to plan and after a train ride, two bus rides, and a slightly delayed plane ride we found ourselves in Barcelona’s Estacion del Nord bus station. From there we walked southeasterly, or something, toward the center of town and our hostel. We walked through Barcelona’s Arc de Triomf. Look:
I didn't actually take the above picture; I forgot to.
Apparently Triumphal Arches are really common here in Europe. You probably know the one in Paris but I think we have one in Munich too.
The path from there wound through Barcelona’s older Gothic Quarter with its narrow streets, shops, and 5-story buildings. This portion of the city had a distinct charm to it that has since made me a big fan of Barcelona and of most of what I saw of Spain. It all feels very human, very worn and inhabited without being really dirty or full of trash. And it was normally seemed really relaxed. I can’t say I’ve really ever gotten the same feeling here in Munich; this in Barcelona was something unique. Here’s what it looked like at least:
We had arrived in town at around 6:00 but still needed to wait for Brad to show up, at around 7:45, so we went off to the harbor to walk around for a bit.
Eventually we discover Brad.
Off to the hostel then we went, with Brad in tow. The hostel was a few blocks away from “La Rambla”, an open drag through Barcelona full of street performers, restaurants and shops. This road was always full of people and is fairly central in the city and thus was a pretty good place to have stayed near.
We discovered at check-in that the hostel only had beds for us on Wednesday and Thursday night because of the crowds descending on the town starting Friday for a Formula 1 race. Brad had stayed here before and liked it and it seemed like a nice place to Mang-git and I so we decided to book the two of the three nights we intended to stay in town and figure things out later. I’ve got a story about later but you’ll have to wait until later when I write the post about later. We took our stuff up to our room and set off in a hurry to catch a Flamenco show in town.
Flamenco is really rhythmic and really intense. The show lasted only about a half of an hour but everyone looked exhausted by the end, especially the dancer. On top of that she only danced for half of the show. I was really really impressed with it all, from the intensity and passion of the singer to the rhythm and talent of the bass and regular guitarists to the coordination and speed of the dancer. Captivating. This is the best I could do for pictures:
Still reeling and very impressed we left the Flamenco joint hungry to find some Tapas.
From my days as a Spanish-learner I had always heard about Tapas and about how much Miguel likes to meet his friend at the Tapas Bar (¡aquí escuchamos!) but I had never before tried them. My old Spanish book did not steer me wrong here; they were tasty. We found a nice little place to sit outside a restaurant in a small plaza and had a dinner-esque meal of Spanish wine, Spanish cheese, bread covered in tomato and oil and baked, Foie Gras(probably not exactly real because such animal cruelty is only legal in France), and tortilla. Let me pause for a moment and point out that a Spanish tortilla is kind of like a potato omelette, but thicker, and not, as you might imagine, a flat circular wrapping made of flour which is applied before the tin foil around your Chipotle Burrito. Apparently Brad lives off of these things because all “hole in the wall” restaurants around him make them extremely cheap and they are quite filling. You can even get a tortilla sandwich.
After Tapas we returned to the hostel to try and decide on our next activities. We met our roommates, two girls from French-Canada, who were very surprised to see three guys walk into what they had been told was a “female only” dorm room. They took the surprise very well, thankfully, and we ended up spending a fair amount of time with them in the next few days adventuring around the city. We met a few other French-Canadians and some French people, but nobody was really up to doing much that evening. Only Sarah and Julie, the two girls from our room came out with us on our evening adventure.
We decided it would be really cool to go down to the beach and just hang out by the Mediterranean for a bit before we went to bed for the night. The beaches were a bit far so we ended up walking for a good chunk of time along the port and through the streets. Every night in Barcelona the streets are filled with solitary vendors trying to make a few Euros by holding out a six pack of beer to anyone who walks by and saying “¿Cerveca?”, meaning “beer?” in hopes of making a sale. Later in the evening some of these guys switch to selling samosas. They’re really nothing to be afraid of and will simply leave you alone if you say “No, gracias”.
The beach was nothing to rave about, but it was nice to sit in the sand listening and watching waves crash on the shore. Brad had the sudden impulse to go swimming; no one else followed. Barcelona is still a bit cold during the nights in May.
We went to bed that night satisfied with our first and definitely successful day of adventure in Spain.
I’m gonna take a break for now and get back to the next days when I get the chance. This is turning out to be quite a chunk of text here, but I do want to capture as much of this trip as I can since, like I said earlier, I really enjoyed it. In fact, it may have been my best trip since arriving here in Europe.
When Spain is wrapped up I will have to jump back to Dachau, mountain climbing with Brad and Mang-git, Prague, BMW Welt, Bayern Abend, May Pole Raising, Frühlingsfest, classes and related difficulties, painting Blane, Charlotte and the other new Germans, MVV’s silly bureaucracy, and all the other things I can’t remember at the moment. This list is mostly for my sake so I can remember what to cover. Stay tuned anyway!
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