I think Megan, Sarah and I all knew when we left our building ten minutes before our train was supposed to leave the station that we weren't going to make it in time. Even so, we darted through the narrow streets of Cádiz toward the station like our very lives depended on catching that train, moving at a pace that left my calves burning for the rest of the morning. It was an exercise in futility, but at least it was exercise.
On our way to the station, we called our friend Amanda, who was traveling with us, and more or less told her not to be silly, of course we were going to make it there in time, go ahead and buy four tickets. Then as we finally neared our destination, we received a call from Amanda informing us that the train was now pulling out of its platform, with her inside. They don't always check tickets on the trains here, but it was comforting to know that Amanda was definitely going to be covered if they decided to this time.
We ended up taking a bus into Sevilla and we made it to the airport in plenty of time to catch our flight to Barcelona. When we arrived, we checked into the Central Garden Hostel One on Carrer Roger de Llúria and we were immediately impressed. It was spacious and clean and the staff were friendly and helpful. The husband of the husband-and-wife team that owns the hostel sat us down with a map of the city, showing us where he had marked various sights we had to see while we were there along with prices and routes for getting where we needed to go.
That night, we dined at La Rita, a reasonably-priced restaurant with decent sea food and a nice, upscale atmosphere. This upscale atmosphere is what inspired me take off the cap I'd been wearing all day while we ate. I'm not sure what inspired me to leave it in the restaurant when we left or what inspired someone to take it for their own when they found it lying on the floor, but that's my best guess as to what transpired, because it wasn't there when I went back for it.
A little aside to our would-be hat thief: Enjoy. It's not worth much and it's starting to smell, but it was always good to me. Also, I'm pretty sure I don't have lice, so that's a plus.
On Thursday, we woke up relatively early and headed to Travel Bar for a free walking tour of the Gothic quarter of the city. The tour was interesting and informative, but paled somewhat in comparison to my Dublin tour. Our guide Mark was Australian and although he seemed to have done his research on Barcelona, he hadn't lived there long and didn't exude the same authority that Dublin Dave did. Still, he was engaging and friendly and convinced us to come back the following day for a bike tour.
On our walking tour we met a girl our age named Pinsi, who accompanied us for the rest of the day as we got sandwiches at La Xampanyeria and walked through the exhibits at the Museu Picasso. The museum doesn't hold a lot of Picasso's really famous works, but instead a lot of his lesser-known, earlier works, so I imagine it's more interesting for those who already know a thing or two about Picasso. I myself was most impressed by just how conventional some of his really early work was.
My friends and I spent Friday morning riding around Barcelona on bikes. We stopped at Sagrada Familia, the famous cathedral designed by Antoni Gaudí, and walked around the giant building on foot, taking in the bizarre and inspiring art of a mad genius. This is one of the sights people will tell you you must see if you visit Barcelona; I agree. I'm not sure how much it costs to get inside or how long you would have to wait in line to get inside once you pay, but it's free to just walk around it outside and you don't have to be interested in architecture to fall in love with Gaudí's crazy work.
Halfway through the bike tour, we stopped for one-euro wine and then continued on. I wouldn't say I got tipsy, exactly, but riding a bike was a lot more fun after two glasses of cheap wine.
On Saturday, we met up with Sergi and Jaume, my friends and natives of Barcelona. I was grateful for the opportunity to experience the city through the eyes of people who actually lived there. First we took a tour of Camp Nou, the football stadium of FC Barcelona. Sergi and Jaume love their football team and try to make it to every game. They pointed out to me where they usually sit in the stands and talked about important plays they remembered seeing. I learned that FC Barcelona is the first team to win all six important cups, although now that I'm writing this out, I realize I'm not sure what it means.
Next, we went to Park Guell, which is home to more work by Gaudí and is, I was reminded many times this weekend in excited yelps from my American friends, also where one season (one episode? all seasons? I'm not really sure) of America's Next Top Model was filmed. The park, being built into a hill, offered a nice view of the city and, again, Gaudí's architecture was spectacular.
Sergi spent the afternoon trying to teach me some words in Catalan, the predominant language in Barcelona. It's not a dialect of Spanish, but is, as I've indicated, a language all it's own. Though it's fairly similar to Spanish, it's different enough that I had trouble pronouncing a few words.
Before I met Sergi and Jaume, I thought of Spain as being very homogeneous. This couldn't be further from the truth. There are four main languages spoken in Spain. In Barcelona, which is in Catalunya, they speak Catalan. In Galicia, they speak Gallego. Up north in the País Vasco, they speak a language called Euskara. And down here in Andalucía, where I study, they speak Castellano. Castellano is also the official language of the country and is often referred to simply as Spanish. Everyone in Spain speaks Spanish, but not everyone in Spain likes to think of themselves as being Spanish.
Sergi kept pointing out things that he considered to be "Spanish" and spoke of them as if they were more than a tad ridiculous.
- Flamenco ("This is very Spanish, this.")
- Castanets ("Of course! Very Spanish.")
- Bull fights (This one in particular Sergi seemed to feel strongly about, because it involves torturing and killing animals for sport. The people of Catalunya recently voted to ban bull fights in their neck of Spain.)
Barcelona is a beautiful city with a lot to see, but by Sunday I was exhausted and just wanted to be back in Cádiz. Someday, maybe soon, I'll go back and try to see everything I missed this time around, but for now, I'm glad to have a bit of a rest from traveling.
Until I go to Berlin in less than two weeks. And I'll be flying Ryanair again. Oh, joy of joys!
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