Barcelona!

Ok I have totally missed out a whole section of this year... Wellington, the Nationals, London etc and I'm going to skip straight to Spain as it's been a full-on few weeks! Here goes...

I am sitting in a tiny little room with two other woman. One is a sweet old French woman that cannot speak a word of English, the other is a equally as lovely Scottish woman who seems to be able to speak every language under the sun. Tonight, we are going to sleep together. Oh yes.

Don't get all excited yet... I’m somewhere in the north eastern corner of Spain on an overnight train heading towards Paris. I managed to secure a 4-person room and we’ve got 12 hours of travel ahead of us. This is something I’ve never done before and looks like a bit of fun, but something tells me the novelty is about to wear off. Ms Scotland has just told me that the train uses the freight lines and that it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

I’m about to leave Spain after 4 days in Barcelona, a city that Lonely Planet describes as Spain’s most’ unspanish city.’ After the near fiasco with my visa, (not being able to enter the UK on my two year working visa, and having to leave and then re-enter after the date my visa started) I had to pick somewhere to go to and after a bit of research and a flick through some tourist books, Barcelona was the go. I wanted to see La Rambla  and had heard that there was a reasonable amount of English spoken there.

I flew out of London after ten awesome days hanging out with people that aren’t family but that I consider family, and flew into Barcelona on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. To be honest, I knew nothing about the city and managed to learn a few Spanish words on the flight. I know, I’m a terrible traveller…

I had been given what I thought were simple instructions from my hostel for my first nights accommodation and after a bus ride, train ride and a stunning cable car ride that kicks the arse out of Wellington’s cable car  view-wise, I arrived at the top of a hill behind Barcelona in a little village. It was there that I discovered that I was lost. Bummer.

I managed to call the hostel and got some instructions but they were along the lines of ‘when you get to where the road splits in three, take the middle road.’ So I got to where they told me and the road split in four... I then climbed up and down for about an hour and finally pleaded with someone from the hostel to come and meet me, which they did, and then proceeded to look after me for the evening. I think they were calling me the stupid lost girl or something, and they kept trying to put slippers on my feet. (The typical kiwi that I am was walking around with no shoes on…)

The next morning I was awoken to the sounds of Johann Sebastian Bach. The sweet sound of a solitary piano echoing through an old Spanish house made me think that someone was actually playing his baroque masterpieces downstairs. I got up and decided to attack La Ramblas first, since that was the major drawcard of Barcelona for me.

The long street is full of human statues and performers, but is also full of pickpocketers and people willing to trick you for your money. With this in mind I managed to not take a bag with me in the hope of not sticking out as a tourist. Believe me, some people are such easy targets, walking around flashing money and cameras etc. But it was a great day, although here is my tip for the travellers out there. Do not buy anything to eat or drink from La Ramblas. Never. Unless it’s from Dunkin Doughnuts as you cannot put a price of the delectability of their circular delights. After walking around for a few hours I stopped for a beer to quench my thirst. One San Miguel – 6.42 euros!!!!! That’s like, $14 Australian Dollars! $16 New Zealand Dollars! Won’t make that mistake again. 

I checked out the port and then went back to the hostel after being in awe of a man playing violin on the train. It was like the soundtrack to my little trip on the train, but looking outside watching small Spanish children playing football as we passed them by the music seemed to blend into the moment. I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the disappearing sun with neighbours dogs yapping and children laughing, all in a language I sadly cannot understand.

That night I met up with some people I was going to Couch Surf with; Jody from the UK, and Marc and Anna from Barcelona, and they were such a riot that I planned to stay at their place the following night.

The next day I made it my goal to reach the crazy looking church on top of a hill behind where I was staying. I thought that I might be able to walk to it but my confidence was squashed after getting lost the day before. After a bit of walking, some train action, some more walking and some cable cars, I found myself at the top of Tibidabido mountain looking at the cathedral. The monument is simply amazing, and I managed to get to the top to the very foot of the statue and stood in awe of the panoramic views for quite a while. A Dutch mother and son soon joined me and we even managed to attempt some jumping shots, none of which came out very well but it was of course a talking point, and hopefully the son will join The Lib Lib Jumping Project 2009 as he took my details and sounded keen. I then hung out with Jody, Marc and Anna and they told me about diamond water and how they put all their drinking water out under the full moon for three days before drinking or cooking with it. Interesting stuff!

I’d been blessed with the weather until today and upon waking in my final day in Barcelona I exclaimed to myself that the rain in Spain does not stay mainly in the plains and got ready for a bit of wet sightseeing.

After two (I know, terrible, but I guess I’ve been walking a lot lately… at least, that’s my excuse…) heavenly Dunkin Doughnuts I checked out some of the lanes and passageways that all link together to make the Gothic quarter of central Barcalona and managed to pick up a pair of shoes and a jumper. After checking out the cathedral and getting some lunch I made my way back to Jody, Anna and Marc’s to collect my stuff, walk the kilometre to the train station in the rain and here I am, sitting next to my two new friends.

I even attempted a solo jumping shot in the train station and I noticed a trio of Kazakhstan natives were watching from afar, and soon were attempting a jumping shot of their own. I went over to ask them if they wanted me to take the shot for them and we got talking about all matter of things. They were tennis players who were in the junior Australian Open and we attempted a group shot, had a bit of a chat and then boarded the train.

So now, on to Paris! The city of love and I am going by myself! But I’m only there for two days so should be able to jam pack the stay with some fun, solo style.