An American Girl in Avignon

Out of all the cities I have visited in Europe so far, Barcelona was my favorite. I didn’t really know what to expect before I went, but it met and exceed all that I had previously thought and heard. Beautiful city, with beautiful beaches, and beautiful people. We all took a vote and decided there was no questioning that Spain (or Barcelona at least) had the best looking men in what we have seen in Europe so far.

Although my minimal one year of Spanish was enough to get by, it would have been nice to be able to communicate more with the people here in their native language. However, most of the Barcelonans speak Catalonia, which is a different dialect of Spanish…so maybe not, but we could have tried.
When we first got there, we thought we would try walking to our hostel, which we estimated to be about an hour’s journey on foot. Bad idea. Thankfully, our fatigue told us this was a bad idea (which it was, because after we caught the taxi, we realized that number one: we would have never found our hostel, because even our taxi driver got lost. Number two: it would have taken around 2 hours to walking there carrying our duffel bags and dragging from our night of no sleep.) Although none of us knew enough Spanish to be very useful and he could have easily taken advantage of us, our taxi driver was nice enough to stop the clock on the way to the hostel when he got lost, so we wouldn’t get charged. The fourteen euro ride was a cheap price to pay for how long we had been driving…and when split four ways was dirt cheap.

When we pulled into our hostel, I had to pause and ask myself if we had the right address. At least from the looks of the outside and the lobby, it looked way too nice to have only cost 14 USD a night. But our judgment would be refuted after we had seen the rooms and bathrooms. You get what you pay for. We stored our bags in complimentary lockers and went walking in Gaudi Park. Walking around in the park made us all feel better after our bizarre and sleepless night. Barcelona is beautiful. The palm trees, architecture, and weather were everything one would expect and more. Before coming here, I didn’t know anything about Gaudi and his famous mosaic work in the park. There was a low wall encircling an open courtyard, covered in colorful artwork, in addition to a church and temple constructed in the same style. It was gorgeous.

We took a nap in our hostel’s front lawn (haha) before checking into our hotel to crash and head to Barcelonita Beach for the day. I only wish I had a euro for every time someone on the beach asked, “Massage?, Beer?, Henna Tattoo?, Coconut?, or Coke? Water? Fanta?” I felt like I was being harassed (but not really), but it was quite amusing and funny after awhile. You learn to just say “no, gracias” to anyone who comes near.

We had been warned by our program director that every year someone gets something stolen from Barcelona. (One girl last year lost her passport). I’m sure I looked really cool lying on the beach with one arm wrapped around my purse, but one can never be too cautious when traveling. Even though I was doing this, I began to fall asleep, face down in the sand, but could still hear the faint sound of someone encircling around our towels. I glanced up to see a man standing uncomfortably close to our beach towels. He walked away for a little bit, but then, I heard it again! One of the beach venders tapped me on the shoulder and told me to wake up and watch my stuff more carefully (even though I had my arm around it), because the man was trying to steal our bags. My second run-in with the many Barcelonon thieves was the next day at the market at Las Rambas. I saw a boy try to swipe a purse right off of some woman’s arm. Thankfully, she felt it, and turned around and slapped him. You definitely don’t want to let your guard down, even for a minute!

And I thought that the French ate dinner late. One of the cultural differences we noticed in Spain was how late everyone ate dinner. Usually around 9:30 and 10:00, and if it was later than this, no one would think anything of it. During the late afternoon, after their long siestas, they snack on a variety of tapas before their evening feasts. Another thing I loved was how much cheaper the food was here (not to mention that we all found it all delicious!) The Spanish cuisine was one of the best parts about Barcelona. Plus Sangria, a yummy tropical drink made with red wine, was really cheap: around 3 euro at a nice restaurant, but you can buy cartons at the grocery store for around one.

The next day, we went to the Familla Sangria (a big church designed by Gaudi himself). It was one of the most impressive and creative architectural structures I have ever seen. Done in a nouveau style, it was never completed, but is still breathtaking in spite of this fact. Browsing at Las Rambas was next and unintentional buying. There were performers who lined the shop-covered streets in costumes varying from beautiful to just plan bizarre or even scary. After our tiring day of shopping, we tried to take the metro to a different beach, but couldn’t find it, so we instead walked by the arc de triompe, saw a martial arts demonstration, and hung out in the park by the Barcelona zoo before going out that night.

Dinner in “Modern Barcelona” was excellent. Knowing that we would have to say goodbye to Zoey soon, we went out late to walk by the big dome that is supposed to light up at night (sadly, it didn’t), ran into a free soccer game, and then a concert. Wow…the Spanish are hilarious dancers. Boys were jumping on each others’ shoulders like a game of chicken in the pool. Everyone else twitched and bopped around like they were either doing the twist and shout or having a seizure. They do a mean salsa though.
We took the long metro ride to the gare and waited for an hour and a half more than supposed to for her bus under the chilly, drizzling rain. While waiting for her bus, we met a woman from Lyon and her friend. They had had their stuff stolen while walking to the gare, but thanks to Zoey’s trusty guidebook, we were able to help them. After her bus finally came and left, we met some girls from California, who were studying abroad in Italy. Since they had nowhere to stay for the night and knowing how panicked I would feel in their situation, we offered to take them back with them to our hostel and get them a room. It was now four thirty am, and our hostel kicks us out at 10 everyday. I didn’t get much sleep that night, but what a great day!