Barcelona (1 week after the fact)

So there you have it, everyone -- Barcelona, Spain. Well, tune in soon for my next post. See ya!

On second thought, maybe I should post a few more pictures than just that one. It is a nice picture, though. It shows the weather that we had all our days in Barcelona except for one -- sunny and warm with clear skies. This photograph was taken from a castle (pictured to the right) on the west end of the city. To the east was the city, and to the south and west I could see the huge ports and the Mediterranean.

But I'm getting ahead of myself; it wasn't until the third or fourth day that I went to the castle. Let's start from the beginning of my trip. And since I've done such a poor job of posting pictures on this blog, I'll try to rest my voice this week and give you lots of images of my vacation in Barcelona.

We took a bus the morning of Tuesday, February 23 from Montpellier to Barcelona. There are some great views of the Pyrenees on that ride. I'm not sure my friend, Parham, took full advantage of the scenery...

We got to the city and went out in search of our hostel. To anyone going to Barcelona, I would definitely recommend staying at the hostel we were at, the Sant Jordi Sagrada Familia, but I will say that it is extremely difficult to find. Other than a Sant Jordi sticker we saw on a newspaper kiosk about a block away, this little sign was the only indication of where the hostel was:

Parham's expression adequately captures how we felt after finally finding the place.

I went for a walk that afternoon and came across the St. Pau Hospital just a few blocks north of the hostel. I guess it's a hospital and research facility, and perhaps a school as well, because it's an entire campus of buildings, beautiful, ornate buildings.

That night we met at Catalunya, a metro stop and public square at the top of La Rambla, a famous street and shopping area. From left to right on the bench are Parham, Alexandra, and Aneta. Alexandra and Aneta are good friends from Poland studying in Montpellier for the semester. They are quite the pair. Over the course of our trip, Parham and I managed to pick up a number of Polish phrases, none of which I know how to spell. However it's spelled, though, travelling in Barcelona with Alexandra and Aneta was ziabista -- awesome.

The next day we went to La Sagrada Familia, one of the most impressive cathedrals I've ever seen. It's designed by Gaudi, an architect responsible for many of the fascinating designs in the city. Unfortunately the cathedral is still under construction. It is nonetheless awe-inspiring. In the picture on the right are Parham, the Polish girls, Sarah in purple, and behind her Patrick, a German guy Sarah met in her hostel. He ended up spending the rest of the day with us.

We then went to Parc Guell, where lots of Gaudi artwork and architecture is featured. His work really is one-of-a-kind.

The next day we went to one of the more novel museums I've ever been to -- the Museum of Chocolate. The ticket was a chocolate bar, and the displays were sculptures made entirely of chocolate. It's hard to say if it was more impressive or more appetizing!

Because Sarah had to leave later that afternoon, we hauled over to the beach and then to a tapas bar. Tapas is sort of like an appetizer or a snack, and from what I understand, a lot of people go to a bar after work to get a beer and tapas. One of the better known tapas plates is patatas bravas, which is potatoes with mayonnaise and a spicy sauce. It is really quite good, as is all the tapas we tried.

That night we returned to the beach for a picnic. Apparently there are these guys who make sand sculptures during the day and then leave them out overnight with a box asking for money. I doubt it's a very lucrative endeavor, but the artwork was almost as impressive as the chocolate museum.

The next day, Friday, was when I went to the castle shown at the beginning of this post. That morning and early afternoon we all split up and did different things. The girls went shopping, Parham went to the Museum of Catalonian History, and I went to explore that area of the city to the west of La Rambla. The National Museum of Catalonian Art is incredible even on the outside. I only had time to go into one of the temporary exhibits, but I was glad just to see the building and estate.

Between the art museum and the castle, I saw some big tower and the Olympic Stadium which was built for the '92 Summer Games. I was surprised to see how small the stadium was, and in what poor condition as well.

We met back up again and ate some more tapas. That night some people from the hostel organized an outing. They gathered up 20 or 30 people from a couple of sister hostels and went to the biggest bar I've ever seen. It was more like a dining hall, really, with long tables and lots of noise and masses of people squished together. It reminded me of an Anglo-Saxon meadhall, and it reminded Parham of Hogwarts -- both fair comparisons, I think. It's too bad I didn't bring my camera to capture it, but I think it would have ended up getting broken or dropped in a pitcher of sangria or something.

After that we went to the biggest club I've ever been to. It was crazy. There were five separate rooms with five separate DJ's or live bands, and each room had a bare minumum of 300 people. They're pulling in some dough at 15 euros a head. We stayed there until it closed at 6 in the morning, then waited for the metro to start at 7, took a nap at our hostel, packed up, and checked out by 10. Our grand plan was to spend the day at the beach and sleep under a blanket of sunlight. You may recall, however, my previous mention of one single day of bad weather during our trip. Yes, it was Saturday, our day to sleep at the beach. We were tired enough that we slept in the cold, anyway; luckily it didn't rain very much. I was too tired and we were all too haggard to make photographs worthwhile, but I did take a few. Here's the cloudy sky -- nonetheless pretty -- and our sleeping arrangements.

We kind of wondered around the city the rest of the day after we became too cold to stay at the beach. Every time we stopped somewhere, at least one of us fell asleep. Somehow we survived until our bus ride back, which left at 1:35 am Saturday night/Sunday morning. That seemed like a good time to come back when we first booked it. It turned out to be really stupid. Of course we made it back, though -- at about 8 in the morning on Sunday. Needless to say, we were pretty tired.

It's amazing that even with a good amount of pictures and text, I still have to leave out so many details about our trip. I imagine that I'll eventually have the opportunity to sit down with some of you readers and show you my pictures in person. I look forward to that day. Until then, I'll try to keep taking pictures and posting on this blog. Love,

Your man (once again) in France