I flew into Barcelona’s airport with instructions on my phone to get to the Air B&B that I had booked. I followed the signs toward what I thought was all public transportation, but turned out to be the metro. I was looking for a bus. Finally, my phone synced and was able to tell me where I was in relation to where I wanted to go. I was on the opposite side of the airport from where I wanted to be. I lugged my stuff to no man’s land, walking around in little circles until a friendly traveller pointed out the stop I was looking for and my bus pulled up a few minutes later. I took the bus (relieved to find I could pay for my passage on the bus since I couldn’t find a ticket machine) to the metro, bought a 10 pack for 10 euros, climbed up and down a million stairs and got on a train. It was air-conditioned! And a blast of cool air was directed right at me! The only time I hadn’t been hot and sweaty in the last 10 days had been when I was at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I was starting to fall in love with Barcelona. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I forgot to mention that in Paris, on some of the trains you could press the button and the doors would open before the train came to a complete stop. It seemed a little dangerous, but I liked it. No air conditioning on those trains though. Sometimes in the summer of New York, the only time I was cool was on the subway and in department stores- those were the public places that were air conditioned. I was surprised it wasn’t like that in Paris. Also, in Paris there is a thing above the door that tells you where you are on the route with little lights that are bright under the stops you haven’t been on yet. It’s the opposite in Barcelona- they light up the stops you have been to. So though I was very happy to have cool air blowing on me, for the first 90 seconds I was praying that I had gotten on a train going in the right direction.
Out of the train I turned right and walked down a most delightful street.
It was narrow, flanked by tall buildings that hung with iron balconies. This is what I came to Europe for! But when my phone told me I had arrived at my destination, I realized that I only had the street of the address to my destination and not the building number. Frugal Kelly cringed as I turned on my roaming data so I could message my host to find out where to go. Thirty minutes later than I had aimed to arrive, I finally found my new home for the weekend.
Traveling the way I’m doing it is a stimulating experience. There are so many new things to take in, so many beautiful things, so many realizations that I’m going to so many places that I’ve wanted to go to for such a long time. And there are also noises and temperatures and inconveniences that I gracefully, patiently swipe away. Like at the last hostel when I arrived a little after midnight to find someone sleeping in my bunk. They were a little disorganized. I ended up sleeping in 4 different beds over the course of staying there 8 nights. I am so so patient until I’m not anymore. After being in hostels for 2 weeks I was more than ready to have my own room. My friend Rose from London had said she wanted to meet me here in Barcelona this weekend for her birthday so I splurged on an Air B&B, but then she couldn’t get out of work. I would rather her be here, but I am very happy about how circumstances made me choose this accommodation. For the first time in weeks I would be able to dress after a shower in my own room rather than the tiny stall of a hostel shower. Speaking of showers, I would be able to bathe in continuous water rather than 30 second increments. My suitcase can explode without needing to be tucked into a locker whenever I’m not looking at it directly. Still blissed with gratitude I got a closer look to find some of the qualities of this accommodation had similar inconveniences to what I encountered in the south of Italy. The bed is small and creeky, there’s no air conditioning, it’s loud, I have to sit sideways on the toilet because my knees don’t fit between the seat and the wall. The handheld shower head doesn’t attach to the wall hanging so I have to hold it with one hand. But there’s a balcony. And a room to myself. And it’s on a lovely street. And today (Sunday) I stayed here all day in the quiet (you know, except for the construction going on on the street below me– the quiet in between the jack hammering) and napped while my computer slowly uploaded pictures.
By 5 or 6pm (back to Friday now) I was hungry (I hadn’t eaten since 8 that morning) so I ventured out to find some food. I followed the directions to the place my friend Joanna suggested, but once again, when I arrived I couldn’t find it. I walked up and down the street and finding nothing else that looked good, I gave up on that one. Instead, I went in search of the place my host had recommended, but could only find a bar with one of the 3 names he had written on a sticky note. I was pretty sure this wasn’t the place, but I was ready to settle. I would be very happy the next time I could find what I was looking for on the first try. I had some delicious vermout (a local sweet brown colored white wine which is a catalan thing) and a bread with carmelized onions and sausage. The waitress behind the bar subtly danced to the music, entertaining herself on her shift.
I came back to the flat and read my book on the balcony when the other Air B&B guests arrived– they were from Sicily and the wife studied Theatre in school. They speak more English than I speak Italian, but I’m able to practice my salutations with them.
Street Art– this is on a wall
Appropriate for me too!
A flower shop I found which made me think of Wendy
These trees with purple flowers are all over the place!
A giant vending machine in the metro
Every street I find is so beautiful I want to take a picture
This one too
Those windows on the left are fake– and there’s a guy peeking out of the 3rd one up.
I’ll write about the Sagrada Familia in my next post which is what I did on Saturday. On Saturday evening I met up with my best friend from 5th grade through 7th grade. I hadn’t seen her since then, but we’d been following each other on Facebook. We had such a great time catching up, sharing stories of living abroad and working with kids. She and her husband, Kevin, took me to a little hole in the wall that they love and we had tapas and I loved being able to eat the local good stuff without having to figure out what to order! They work through the week, but I’ll be spending more time with them next weekend, and I am so looking forward to it!