The pain, the pain, the pain, in Spain falls main-ly on me!
And by that, I mean that my legs "really, really" hurt. Though I am technically on vacation, I have been unable to avoid treating these few months as a bit of a challenge. I´ve used public transportation, but I haven´t declined to walk many miles every day, sometimes carrying heavy bags. I´ve never been much of a walker, as I usually drive or bike most places and my body feels worn out in a way it hasn´t since I lived in England five years ago. I have a tendency to get lost, or to take inefficient paths to get to my destinations, so I have put on many more miles in the last few days than were necessary.
On the other hand, I feel unusually fit. I´ve lost some weight and I think my cardio is a bit better than it was before I left home. Staying at home all summer studying for the bar exam put me in a sorry state and I think this trip has mostly gotten me out of it.
I arrived in Barcelona early Saturday morning, just missing the tail end of the all night celebration of Barcelona nightlife. Despite having made a reservation the day before at Waterloo, the hostel I had booked had never heard of me and referred me to another just a bit away. In the meantime, I wandered through the old town of Barcelona, "the narrow alley-ways of stone!" For some reason, ALL of the old part of Barcelona seems to consist of narrow alley ways. Besides Las Ramblas (the main boulevard) and a few other semi-major streets, the area is most pedestrian. And smells a little bit bad.
I stopped (already exhausted) at Cafe ´D´la Opera, a supposedly famous restaurant on Las Ramblas. More because I was thirsty and craving something both sweet and cold than desiring of an alcoholic beverage, I purchased "some" sangria and a Spanish omelette. I felt much better after this, although self-conscious eating while still sweaty from my long journey by foot through the city searching for a suitable spot for breakfast.
I checked into my hostel, which was adequate (still, probably my least favorite place I´ve stayed so far) and met an Australian guy named Tony who had been travelling the world for the past few months. Tony, informed me that while he speaks both English and Arabic, his skills are a bit lacking in both. He also informed me that he hates computers, which is why I´m not refraining from posting this detail.
He and I chatted with the woman cleaning our dorm room (from Argentina) and decided to do a bit of sight-seeing.
We walked up Las Ramblas and into the market. While I was only a little bit hungry at the time, I was using my best self control to not buy a little bit of everything around me: fresh fruit (I bought some of this), sausages, fresh fish, sandwiches (I bought one of these, along with a bit more sangria.)
He and I walked up the street to Las Pedredas, a famous construction by Gaudi. After seeing a few Gaudi buildings in the last few days, Eliel´s chess-set finally makes sense to me. I´m not sure how I feel about the Gaudi architecture though. At first the curviness is appealing, and I like the idea that the shapes are based on natural forms, and there is something cute about the tile mosaic decorations, and I especially think he was extremely forward thinking for his time, but I also feel that Gaudi makes it obvious that he is trying too hard. While the buildings are pretty, the amount of work that goes into planning and constructing them is obvious. I think I prefer more simplicity and less showiness when it comes to architecture. Still, I can´t really complain. Tony and I walked up and down the stairs covered roof of the building and got a great view of Barcelona (not to be my last).
Now, both of us extremely tired, he decided to stay back and rest and I decided to walk back to the hostel. Along the way, I stopped at a Basque restaurant and ate two fish based tapas (I think one of them may have had crab).
For some reason, my iPod´s most recent battery recharching has given it a longer lifetime that it has enjoyed in many, many months. I walked through Barcelona by myself, listening to U2´s Zooropa, sore but happy. Barcelona, while not exactly cheap, is cheaper than Paris, London and most importantly Iceland, so I felt comfortable purchasing snacks and drinks whenever I really felt like I wanted them (as opposed to in Thailand, where I purchased snacks whenever I felt the slightest inclination or in Iceland where where I only purchased things when they seemed absolutely necessary for a successful trip).
I took a late nap at the hostel, cooking in the humid heat of my 5th floor dormitory and then walked out into the narrow streets nearby to find dinner. I stopped in a small bodega where I was served meatballs, mushrooms, bread and red wine. The service was terrific (and the server/owner told me that my Spanish was good (hooray)) except for the fact that while it would take him only a few minutes to bring me each of the items I ordered, it took him until long into the meal for him to remember to bring me water. For some reason, Europe does not seem to be so excited about drinking water, and even less so about ice. Sometimes after a long sweaty walk through a foreign city with a heavy bag, the one thing that would make me happiest would be a cold glass of water. When it takes multiple requests and attitude to be served one small glass of warm tap water, I feel slightly less excited about my day. Today I managed one cold glass of water with ice. I´m going to need many more to make it through.
The food at that place was delicious though and very reasonably priced. I shouldn´t complain.
Afterwards, Tony and I took a long walk to the beach area to "go out" to a club. We decided up "The Cat Walk" because we were given free passes by promoters on the street. We were only able to use these passes because we showed up early (before 1:30 AM).
Honestly, I don´t find this whole "Oh, in my country we don´t even START going out until 2 in the morning, and things don´t really get bumping until 3 and we usually stay out until 7 or 8! It´s so great!" thing to be "cool." What´s the point? What am I supposed to be doing between the hours of 10PM and 2AM? Homework? Reading? Watching TV? Sleeping? By the time 3 rolls around, I´m typically feeling pretty tired, and while I can usually push myself for a few more hours if I have to, I´m not a whole lot of fun and I´m not terribly excited in doing any more dancing. Everybody else at the club seemed fine with being out extremely late. I don´t know. The music was fine, especially considering it was mostly hip hop. But there was clearly nothing so exceptional about this night that it warranted staying out past 5.
We did stay until about 4 though. I had an alright time actually. I shouldn´t complain. I don´t think I´m much of a "club" person though. I much prefer bars, or parties where I can actually speak to people, unless for some bizarre reason the music playing is something that I actually enjoy.
I like Barcelona though. I have been speaking a lot of Spanish, not necessarily well, but the practice is good and people tend to speak back to me. Thank you Sr. Bahena for teaching me a useful skill!
On the other hand, I feel unusually fit. I´ve lost some weight and I think my cardio is a bit better than it was before I left home. Staying at home all summer studying for the bar exam put me in a sorry state and I think this trip has mostly gotten me out of it.
I arrived in Barcelona early Saturday morning, just missing the tail end of the all night celebration of Barcelona nightlife. Despite having made a reservation the day before at Waterloo, the hostel I had booked had never heard of me and referred me to another just a bit away. In the meantime, I wandered through the old town of Barcelona, "the narrow alley-ways of stone!" For some reason, ALL of the old part of Barcelona seems to consist of narrow alley ways. Besides Las Ramblas (the main boulevard) and a few other semi-major streets, the area is most pedestrian. And smells a little bit bad.
I stopped (already exhausted) at Cafe ´D´la Opera, a supposedly famous restaurant on Las Ramblas. More because I was thirsty and craving something both sweet and cold than desiring of an alcoholic beverage, I purchased "some" sangria and a Spanish omelette. I felt much better after this, although self-conscious eating while still sweaty from my long journey by foot through the city searching for a suitable spot for breakfast.
I checked into my hostel, which was adequate (still, probably my least favorite place I´ve stayed so far) and met an Australian guy named Tony who had been travelling the world for the past few months. Tony, informed me that while he speaks both English and Arabic, his skills are a bit lacking in both. He also informed me that he hates computers, which is why I´m not refraining from posting this detail.
He and I chatted with the woman cleaning our dorm room (from Argentina) and decided to do a bit of sight-seeing.
We walked up Las Ramblas and into the market. While I was only a little bit hungry at the time, I was using my best self control to not buy a little bit of everything around me: fresh fruit (I bought some of this), sausages, fresh fish, sandwiches (I bought one of these, along with a bit more sangria.)
He and I walked up the street to Las Pedredas, a famous construction by Gaudi. After seeing a few Gaudi buildings in the last few days, Eliel´s chess-set finally makes sense to me. I´m not sure how I feel about the Gaudi architecture though. At first the curviness is appealing, and I like the idea that the shapes are based on natural forms, and there is something cute about the tile mosaic decorations, and I especially think he was extremely forward thinking for his time, but I also feel that Gaudi makes it obvious that he is trying too hard. While the buildings are pretty, the amount of work that goes into planning and constructing them is obvious. I think I prefer more simplicity and less showiness when it comes to architecture. Still, I can´t really complain. Tony and I walked up and down the stairs covered roof of the building and got a great view of Barcelona (not to be my last).
Now, both of us extremely tired, he decided to stay back and rest and I decided to walk back to the hostel. Along the way, I stopped at a Basque restaurant and ate two fish based tapas (I think one of them may have had crab).
For some reason, my iPod´s most recent battery recharching has given it a longer lifetime that it has enjoyed in many, many months. I walked through Barcelona by myself, listening to U2´s Zooropa, sore but happy. Barcelona, while not exactly cheap, is cheaper than Paris, London and most importantly Iceland, so I felt comfortable purchasing snacks and drinks whenever I really felt like I wanted them (as opposed to in Thailand, where I purchased snacks whenever I felt the slightest inclination or in Iceland where where I only purchased things when they seemed absolutely necessary for a successful trip).
I took a late nap at the hostel, cooking in the humid heat of my 5th floor dormitory and then walked out into the narrow streets nearby to find dinner. I stopped in a small bodega where I was served meatballs, mushrooms, bread and red wine. The service was terrific (and the server/owner told me that my Spanish was good (hooray)) except for the fact that while it would take him only a few minutes to bring me each of the items I ordered, it took him until long into the meal for him to remember to bring me water. For some reason, Europe does not seem to be so excited about drinking water, and even less so about ice. Sometimes after a long sweaty walk through a foreign city with a heavy bag, the one thing that would make me happiest would be a cold glass of water. When it takes multiple requests and attitude to be served one small glass of warm tap water, I feel slightly less excited about my day. Today I managed one cold glass of water with ice. I´m going to need many more to make it through.
The food at that place was delicious though and very reasonably priced. I shouldn´t complain.
Afterwards, Tony and I took a long walk to the beach area to "go out" to a club. We decided up "The Cat Walk" because we were given free passes by promoters on the street. We were only able to use these passes because we showed up early (before 1:30 AM).
Honestly, I don´t find this whole "Oh, in my country we don´t even START going out until 2 in the morning, and things don´t really get bumping until 3 and we usually stay out until 7 or 8! It´s so great!" thing to be "cool." What´s the point? What am I supposed to be doing between the hours of 10PM and 2AM? Homework? Reading? Watching TV? Sleeping? By the time 3 rolls around, I´m typically feeling pretty tired, and while I can usually push myself for a few more hours if I have to, I´m not a whole lot of fun and I´m not terribly excited in doing any more dancing. Everybody else at the club seemed fine with being out extremely late. I don´t know. The music was fine, especially considering it was mostly hip hop. But there was clearly nothing so exceptional about this night that it warranted staying out past 5.
We did stay until about 4 though. I had an alright time actually. I shouldn´t complain. I don´t think I´m much of a "club" person though. I much prefer bars, or parties where I can actually speak to people, unless for some bizarre reason the music playing is something that I actually enjoy.
I like Barcelona though. I have been speaking a lot of Spanish, not necessarily well, but the practice is good and people tend to speak back to me. Thank you Sr. Bahena for teaching me a useful skill!
posted by Jed at 8:30 AM
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