Barcelona Day One (Friday)

28 September 2012

Before I went to Barcelona, I was excited about a few key things. Once you understand them, you’ll understand why the weekend ended up the way it did. Sorta.

1) SPANISH FOOD

This included, and was not limited to, paella, tapas, and sangria. I was also looking forward to some sandwiches (tortas) and possibly Spanish wine.

2) Seeing the sights in one day

While it sounds pretty ridiculous, I was prepared to see this city up and down in just one day, by foot or bus or metro, for cheap. Top sights on my list included the Park Güell, “The Cathedral,” the port, the beach, and the Gothic quarter.

3) Getting out of Aix for the weekend

I’ve been having a great time here, but when you live, study, and party in the same ten-block radius, it gets really old really fast. So hitting up a brand-new city was going to be a nice change of pace.

4) Hangin’ wit ma frendz

I’ve met so many people in the IAU program and we are all still so high-on-life about this entire study abroad experience, it’s unreal! Literally, I’m amazed at how close we’ve gotten so quickly.

It’s awesome.

Okay, so we all now understand Stephanie’s Four Goals of The Trip. Remember these for later.

After class ended at 10:30a, I went to catch my bus at 1:30p (13h30); we would arrive in Barça around 10pm (22h). Eight hours – yusssss. The first hour consisted of us babbling excitedly and getting comfy in our seats. At the first stop, Avignon, there was a restroom that we would be able to use. Most of us had to pee and the bus driver told us we only had ten minutes so we scrambled off the bus and towards the “toilettes” sign.

Little did we know this would be the creepiest bathroom any of us had ever seen. You could smell it from at least ten yards away and while we could probably get past the smell, the dim lighting, wet floors, graffitied walls, and lack of toilet seats and toilet paper really sent us running. Me, K-Bird, and Princess Anastasia (yeah you have a name, you better like it, girl) decided we would find another toilette, so we booked it away from the bus station, up a broken escalator (covered in broken glass), and into a nearby hotel. At first, we were told we wouldn’t be allowed to use the bathroom since we weren’t guests. But K-Bird used some most-excellent French skills to insist that we would buy bottles of water, if we could just please, please use the bathroom. So the guy gave in, we quickly peed (in a very nice setting I might add! So worth it), bought water in fancy glass bottles, and high-tailed it back to the bus.

Whew – we made it! And we were back on our way to Barcelona.

The remainder of or bus ride has consisted of trying to open the bathroom door on the bus; being loud Americans and annoying the bus driver; befriending a random French kid sitting nearby who was going to Barça to visit his girlfriend; and popping champagne in the last three hours. Casual.

Seven hours later, we finally arrived.

It was dark, we were tired and carrying baggage, no one knew where we were going, no one knew how to speak Spanish, and as each second dragged by, I became increasingly concerned that we were getting a big ol’ target painted on us that said: Americans – easy pickin’

sorry, i had to include this haha

Thinking on my feet, I used the poco, poco d’español that I’d picked up from Mexico, my brothers, and Taco Bell to ask the bus station guys for directions to our hostel neighbourhood. But when I asked they told me it was really dangerous and we should avoid it at all costs. Red flag. Sorry, I said, but that’s where our hotel is, we have to go there. Oh no, they quickly replied, it’s not that bad. Lies. But thanks anyway, dude.

Back out to the group, we decided to take taxis to be safe and split the cost. Using everything I’ve learned from living in NY, I rallied the troops and ordered that we go find taxis! Soon, we found a bunch outside of a hotel and began to pile in. I told my cab lady yo quiero tres taxis and she helped get the hostel info out to the other cab drivers; in no time at all, we were all safe in cabs and headed to our hostel.

Before I had ever stayed in a hostel (i.e. before my trip to Ireland last August), I thought they were really scary places filled with cobwebs and heroin addicts. Since then, however, I have come to learn that they can really be quite nice. We stayed at a placed called The Hipstel, which I highly recommend if you ever go to Barcalona. Totally did not break the bank; everyone was accommodating to our huuuuuuge group (around twenty people in total); it was clean, new, and safe; and actually in an awesome location! Those bus guys had no idea what they were talking about. We were literally three blocks from Las Ramblas, as I would later find out, and some very classy stores and restaurants.

 entryway at the hipstel

 outside the dining room

next to the dining room

The Hipstel was offering a “pub crawl” that night. I use this term lightly because, having been to real pub crawls in Galway and Dublin, this was more like a guided tour through Barça’s nightlife. But it was good anyway. 8€ later, every single one of us was headed towards a bar with our English guide, Tony. The bar we went to was really cool! Apparently they have good tapas, too, but we just chilled on their comfy couch seats and enjoyed orange-grapefruit-mystery shots and Amstel. Thinking back, I never had any Spanish beer in Barcelona. Oh well – another time.

me, my besties... and tony

at the bar with princess anastasia 

After that, we went to a club that makes me laugh whenever I remember it.

You have to understand that “pub crawls” are illegal in Barcelona, so we were technically all breaking the law; if asked about it, we had sworn to insist that we were all friends of Tony so he wouldn’t get in trouble. Anyway, the club we went to was not somewhere I would have picked out on my own, but still fun. The music was the most hilarious: it was some jazz-pop-Cuban fusion that you sorta bounced around to. At least it was free!

In the end, we decided to leave early – as in, before the tour was technically over. So we grabbed cabs and headed back to the hostel, only to realize it was 3AM so we went straight to bed. But by “we” I mean all the girls; apparently we had accidentally left Jim Carey buying a drink at the club – oops! Don’t worry, he made it back safely. But not without giving us endless grief for it the next day.

And that was just Day One!

More soon…

xxo, S