I have accepted the fact that I am just a horrible blogger. I'm sure you've done the same a long time ago if you've been trying to follow me.
It's been four days now since we've been home from Barcelona Spring Break. Thinking back to it already makes me feel irrationally nostalgic.
My alarm went off at 4:45am on the Wednesday of break, not that I was actually sleeping for it to wake me, but the bus was departing at 5:30. It took us from Florence to Pisa airport, where we boarded our flight to Girona, where we got on another bus to the center of Barcelona, from which we took a metro close to Be Mar hostel. So 8 hours and a plethora of modes of transportation later, we found ourselves in the lobby of our hostel speaking to a really sweet little Spanish girl with cropped blonde hair, who gave us some restaurant recommendations and the run-down about the Be Mar. To summarize, it was amazing: super clean, breakfast compresa, provided big lockers next to each bed (a very nice perk when sharing a room with 16 people), 24-hour computers available, a lounge and a dining area, a kitchen, multiple W.C.'s, free wi-fi, free tours every day, and all the help of Barca locals a group of clueless American students could ask for--and for just 11 Euro a night. And that is my brief shout out and advertisement for the hostel. The whole group, which initially consisted of seven of us, was eager to get the adventuring started, so we set out right away to find a place for lunch (always, always catering to the stomach). It was a perfectly beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and warm enough for flip-flops which was good enough for me! I have been more than anxious to unbury my toes from thick socks and boots after the cold weeks we'd been having in Florence. After wandering around a bit though, we noticed that the city seemed to be emptied; most places were shut up and closed and there were hardly any people out... not the warm welcome we had been secretly anticipating. We eventually figured out that we arrived during siesta, a mid-day break that all of Spain takes from about 3 to 5 in the afternoon to take naps...... it's naptime for the whole city.
Why don't we do this in America? Talk about a blood pressure and stress reliever.
We came back around to a square near our hostel and chose a restaurant with outdoor seating (this is very common in Europe) in order to take advantage of the great weather. We ordered pitchers of Sangria and tried all different sorts of tapas for our first meal in Spain, appropriately enough. I remember feeling that life couldn't be better, sitting out in the sun, sipping on Sangria with great company, laughing and taking our time with nowhere in the world we had to be but right there. It was the perfect start to a perfect week. After, we wandered around until we found the Port and followed the coastline to the beach, stopping for crepes and "gelato" along the way (this gelato was actually just ice-cream, it had
nothing on the real deal). At the beach we sat in quietness a bit, which is a rare occurrence when we're all together, but when those moments come I think they're just as valuable as the wild ones. It felt like the deep breath before the plunge of good-times-rolling (I think I just mixed LOTR and Grateful Dead references... #nerd). Feeling content, we headed back to the hostel to put ourselves together for dinner, which ended up being a strange one: the taquitos we ordered were some strange mix of fried mashed-potato and cheese fritters that left a funny taste in your mouth, and when three girls thought they ordered fried mozzarella sticks they were each given a plate of a moundful of cubed cheese (can't say I was disappointed, I got to help them out and got my cheese fix for the night). Still feeling pretty exhausted from all the traveling, we decided to do something low-key, and found ourselves at a nearby Doner Kebab talking over wine. After that we called it a night and hit the hay.
......This entry was never completed :( But I wanted to post it anyway
