April 5, 2008 And I’m on a ferry to Barcelona with some American girls.
I’m sitting here, on my amazing ferry ride—which truly is a cruise ship—to Barcelona after the most wonderful experience ever.
Kels and I have a fabulous roommate in this tiny cabin of ours—Stephanie, age 40 but she doesn’t look it at all, rocker-hippie chick from San Francisco, traveling around Europe for the past month to promote her music after leaving her massage therapy practice for awhile. Oh, what an existence.
She played guitar for us while we typed away on our computers, singing songs we can both imagine blaring from our car stereos while we drive down Massachusetts Street. And she’s boy-crazy, too: she invited some crazy 18-yr old Italians, drunk off Limoncello, into our room for a split-second before they began spilling drinks on our floor but entertaining Bob and I nonetheless. Completely surreal.
And I don’t say this lightly. I feel like the past few hours have been a dream, a mesmerizing, life-like dream.
Oh, Barcelona is going to be amazing. I can feel it.
***
Hmmm, well, maybe my feeling about Barcelona was wrong…Unfortunately, the Catalonia Hostel failed to provide us with an address to find the place, so after catching the metro, which is really easy to navigate, luckily, to Diagonal station, the only direction we had, we were a bit at a loss. And it didn’t help that our new “friend,” Stephanie, the musician who was awesome the night before, was slowly becoming more of a burden. She didn’t have a place to stay for her first night in Barcelona, so we said she could come along with us to see if our hostel had extra room. She kept asking people if they spoke English to give us directions to this random hostel, wearing on our nerves a bit and obviously not understanding the way we do things when we travel. To make matters worse, when we called the hostel to find directions, the desk manager YELLED, literally yelled, at Kelsey because she couldn’t understand where he was telling us to go. Great.
Things got a lot better when we finally made it to the hostel—which happened to be really close to where we were. If only they had just given us an address to begin with…
Riding the lift up to the second floor, we could tell Stephanie was getting tired of us, as well. Ha, I guess she’s too mellow to get upset when people are extremely rude. Oh well, our hostel didn’t have any room, and who knows if we’ll ever see her again. It was an interesting 24 hours, to say the least.
After cleaning up, we went to the boys’ hostel to meet up with them and go to dinner. It was a strange feeling, going to “their place,” because they have always come to ours. And I think that feeling, combined with our anger towards our hostel (anger that got us free sheets AND towels! It pays to be bitchy…), made us even more annoyed. We love the boys, but for some reason, it’s always such a hassle to coordinate plans with them. Maybe it’s my affinity for avoiding the group mentality (as J. Steele says, I am a capitalist among communists, haha!) or maybe these boys are just really indecisive. But finding a place to eat and all of that jazz was so difficult. Gah, at least the meal was delicious.
After dinner, and attempting to get donuts but not succeeding (Bob almost got locked in Dunkin’ Donuts!), I headed home to Hostel Catalonia while a few of the others went out to meet Becky and her friends, the girls who Bob and I did the pub crawl with and surprisingly know Dave, Spencer’s friend who is in Barcelona with us. Small, small world, and here I thought it was so massive as I try to see it all.
Barcelona is quite beautiful and enchanting, so I don’t think exhaustion and a bad mood will override it at all.
April 6, 2008 Is it that obvious?!
Mornings in Barcelona are a bit better than late afternoons looking for hostels. We woke up today and found ourselves visiting the Picasso Museum for free since it was the first Sunday of the month. The museum is absolutely amazing, but it was a bit disconcerting wandering around there with tons and tons of other people. Oh well, I guess that’s what you get for going there when it’s free.
After being cultural at Picasso, we found ourselves wandering up and down Las Ramblas, a long pedestrian area filled with merchants, street performers and tourists, and where we were last night while looking for a place to eat, once again looking for food and things to do. Barcelona really is beautiful. Today, the weather was gorgeous, there were thralls and thralls of people out and about, even though it’s Sunday and most shops and things are closed. We ate at an AMAZING vegetarian place—falafel and salad filled with all sorts of delicious veggies; oh my GOODNESS I felt so great and energized after eating it (it’s amazing what healthy food will do to you…)—and actually saw those crazy Italian boys (turuuuuuuuuuuuu!) from the ferry-ride over here. We got some ice cream/sorbet, and, while Jesse and Bob headed back to the hostels for a little siesta time, JM and I sat in the sun at the end of Las Ramblas and people-watched for awhile.
Despite Bob’s and my troubles in Barcelona thus far, I really think this city is the first place I could see myself living in since we began our travels. Venice will always be my favorite, I think, just because it is such a magnificent and mesmerizing place, and I would love nothing more than to wander around there for the rest of my life. But Barcelona is like the NYC of Europe: modern and bustling but still rife with history and interesting places. And the gorgeous weather doesn’t hurt, either.
***
After taking full advantage of the Spanish siesta—something I didn’t think I’d really be able to do since I’m not much of a napper—we made plans with Canada Kelsey and her friend to meet at Camp Nou to buy tickets for the Barcelona football match we were going to. Liz had been texting and calling us all day, so we invited her to come to the game as well, and, once we got our tickets and actually didn’t find Kelsey—miscommunication; I thought we were meeting at the train station close to Camp Nou and she thought we were meeting at the stadium—we headed to the Hard Rock Café by Las Ramblas for my third, yes, third meal at a Hard Rock since traveling.It’s funny what you crave and miss when you are away from home. I NEVER eat Kit-Kat bars at home, but here they are a staple for me. Hard Rock has just become my new Taco Mac, in some ways. Actually, the Twisted Mac, Chicken and Cheese is just REALLY good. That’s why I keep going!
The boys met us at Hard Rock to pick up the tickets we so graciously bought for them. I think it’s interesting all of the generous things we do for them and how many thank-yous we DON’T receive back. It probably ties in with the frustration I am already feeling when it comes to those guys, but I don’t think it would kill them to be grateful every once and awhile that Bob and I are around. Just a thought.
***
I couldn’t make up my mind about whether or not to go to the game when we bought tickets, so I ended up buying mine at a different time than everyone else. And, because of this, the night got a little bit more stressful for me. Apparently, even after the game has started, you have to go in at the gate your ticket tells you to. So, when we finally found this out and I had to walk back down to my gate alone, I decided to go home because I really didn’t want to sit by myself and was exhausted and cold. However, one of the guys at the gate—who was helpful, but STILL wouldn’t let me go in with Bob and Liz—told us we could meet up inside, so we did that.The game was fun, a bit of a different experience than San Siro. Camp Nou is MASSIVE. I think it holds over 70,000 people? And there were about 40,000 at the match, even though it wasn’t an important game at all. The game ended in a stalemate—nil-nil—and the Barça fans got pretty upset, waving white flags and jeering.
When the game was over, we all made the mass exodus to the Metro station and split up with the boys, who just walked home because their hostel is right one stop away from Camp Nou. Liz, who was a bit drunk from dinner, kept wanting us to come back to her hostel on the beach and drink Sangria, but tonight just wasn’t the night. Tired, cold, still a little annoyed, all I wanted to do was sleep. Hmmm, I guess I’m not really taking advantage of the Barcelona life-style, but whatever. I don’t need to conform.
April 7, 2008 Magic.
Today has been pure MAGIC. That’s the only way to describe it. What a day.
I woke up early to meet JM at the Metro station to head to the beach for a walk and then to Las Ramblas to walk through the mercado. We must have just missed each other at Diagonal, though, because we met up at the beach instead and headed to Las Ramblas. I really like walking with JM; everyone gives him a lot of shit for doing things slowly and on his own time, but, in a lot of ways, I am exactly the same. So he and I usually end up walking together, stopping to take a ton of photos, and having wonderful conversations. I really hope he and I stay friends at Kansas because he’s just a great person to talk with and do random things like walk on the beach with at 8 in the morning.
We got donuts from Dunkin’ Coffee—yes, it’s called Dunkin’ Coffee over here, ha—and went into the market, marveling at all of the delectable selections at different stands. I have never seen so many amazing colors in my LIFE. There are a myriad of fruit and vegetable stands, selling exotic fruits like cactus flower and vegetables that I have never seen in my life, like one that looked like a Venus fly trap in veggie form. Fruit stands sold packages of cut-up fruit—I got a mix, JM got pineapple—and delicious, fresh fruit juices, which we each sampled. However, it isn’t just a produce market; it’s known for its carne, or meats, and there was definitely a type of meat for everyone. The market also sold candy, cheeses, bread; there was a man selling only olives—bowls and bowls of different olives, which I saw him ladle more salty water into to keep them moist—and an egg-woman. We walked around for a while, taking photos and wondering what the fluffy white stuff the meat men were selling was. What an experience; I definitely will be frequenting more markets at home now.
I went back to the hostel to collect Kelsey for our bus tour of modernist architecture. Never would I have seen myself taking a bus tour, in Barcelona of all places, but it actually was a great idea. There are so many buildings in Barcelona designed by the modernist artist Antony Gaudi, so a bus tour really is the most efficient way to see them. And on this tour, we saw the Sagrada Familia, a massive cathedral that looks like mud started by Gaudi and still being finished now with the aid of anonymous donations. When the church is finally finished, it will have 12 towers, with the tallest standing 170 meters and being dedicated to Jesus. We also saw a monastery and the awesome gate door, fashioned like a dragon, of Park Güell.
There are three bus tours that run around Barcelona every day, but we only took one because, unfortunately, and apparently uncharacteristic of the city, the weather was less-than desirable. Bob and I were absolutely freezing on top of the bus, and we really weren’t getting that many great photos anyway. So, after our first tour was over, she and I got hot chocolate and headed back to the hostel.
Once again, I siesta-ed, but this time with a true purpose: the Jayhawks were playing for the national title at 3 AM Barcelona time, and of course we were going to watch it! So several naps in one day were completely warranted.
***
Bob made pasta for us at the hostel, then we napped once again and woke up at 11 PM in order to catch the last metro train over to the boys’ hostel. And what followed was once of the most wonderful nights of my life.Waiting for the game to start, JM, Jesse and I watched Kill Bill Vol. 2, which I had never seen and absolutely LOVED, while Bob, Spence and Dave McNally hung out and talked. Kelsey and I both brought our computers over, so we were actually quite productive, uploading photos and all of that jazz we’re into. We also applied for a job at the Office of Study Abroad online; ha, hopefully we both get it because it would be both hilarious and amazing to work with her next semester. And it’s also nice to know that I have at least some chance of getting a great campus job next semester. That way I don’t have to go back to the hell that is Forever21.
When game time finally rolled around, I split my time between downstairs and upstairs, working on things and watching the game online, and hearing the updates from the computer when we were out of the room. Second-half came, and everyone—5 of us: me, Spence, Bob, JM, and Dave McNally—were crowded into the internet area of the boys’ hostel and had taken over all of the computers with our Jayhawks. And what followed as we watched, I still can’t believe.
Kansas Jayhawks vs. Memphis Tigers. Jayhawks down by 9 in the second-half with 2 minutes left, after striking a lead before halftime and losing it pretty quickly in the second half. 2 minutes is a long time in basketball terms, but still, down by 9? There were a few skeptics in our room—ahem, ahem, BOYS!—and all of our hopes were almost lost when, suddenly, Memphis couldn’t hit a free-throw to save their life, and, with literally 2 seconds left on the clock, the GOD that is Mario Chalmers shot a 3 and tied up the score. OH MY GOD. Going into overtime, the momentum was all ours, and we dominated the Tigers in the end. Final Score: Kansas, 75. Memphis, 68.
We all jumped and screamed like crazy, despite the fact that it was 6 in the morning. Bob cried, and we watched the Mass St. Cam change every 10 seconds, showing the masses and masses of people rush out as the news came in we had won.
Oh my God. The Jayhawks are National Champions. If this trip has been completely surreal, that statement just adds to the utter unreality of it all. Of course, it would’ve been amazing to be in Lawrence with my friends and experience the craziness that was March Madness 2008 for KU. I would pick this semester to go abroad, and they would win. But, unlike a few of the people I watched the game with tonight, I don’t regret my decision to come over here at all, even now that all of this amazingness has happened. If anything, I love KU even more now than I did before, and not just because we won.
This experience has help me to realize that I really am a Jayhawk, and I could never imagine going to school anywhere else. If I can stay up until 7 AM in Spain to watch KU win the National Championship in Texas, I know I will be a Jayhawk for life. And that is the most reassuring feeling I’ve had in a long time. I wanted to be in Lawrence tonight. But instead, I was here in Barcelona. And, yet, I’m still there at heart.
April 8, 2008 I had a dream that I sent all of my warm-weather clothes home, went to Zara to buy cold-weather clothes, and it all worked out.
The gods really are smiling down on us. Last night was one of the best nights of my life, and, today, although weather.com told us it was going to be overcast and cold, the skies are blue, the sun is shining, and warm weather fills the air. The magic of last night is still following us around.
Despite not getting to bed until 7 or so, I woke up around 11 to explore Barcelona one last time. I went to the Palau Reial, a Gaudi home we saw on our bus tour yesterday, and tried to find the dragon gate, although I was unsuccessful—I missed the turn and ended up walking all the way down Aveniguda Diagonal in the wrong direction. Ha, oh well, the weather was beautiful and the sun colored my skin. So I couldn’t complain.
Bob and I met outside of Maoz, the amazing vegetarian place we ate at on Sunday afternoon and indulged in another healthy meal. Then we walked to the market to get fruit smoothies and walked around Las Ramblas before the weather started to turn and it started getting a little chilly; I guess that ruled out going to the beach, so good thing I went for my walk with JM yesterday morning.
By the time we returned to the hostel, it was 4 PM and siesta time, so we napped until 6:30 or so and got ready to meet Bob’s friend from KU for dinner. We went to a really delicious Tapas bar, ate cubes of garlic chicken and parmesean and asparagus sandwiches and sipped Sangria. It wasn’t a late night for us at all, but it was fun and relaxing nonetheless.
Tomorrow, we leave for Paris, where I meet Joe and Karen and leave my friends from school. It’s weird to think that I won’t see any of them again, really, until we all return to Leicester in two weeks. And how strange is it to think I’m going back to Leicester?! Most people I know who are studying abroad this semester finish up right when I go back to school for another month. I’m excited to head back to school, though, and a bit interested to see what life will be like when we get back. I wonder if the British girls will like us more because they know we’re leaving and they won’t have much time left to really get to know us. And I wonder if Jamie and I will become even better friends than we are already.
For now, I’ll just stick with Paris and relish in the WEEK I’ll be spending there.
No comments:
Post a Comment