Barcelona: The Spanish New York

Day 10
Barcelona, Spain
Reading: Catcher in the Rye
Songs on repeat: Barcelona street music

The title of this entry really should be "Barcelona: The Spanish New York in Tim Burton's Dreams." You can see the influence of Gaudi everywhere. And Gaudi was one crazy guy. Some of the buildings are so whimsical and gothic, it's living inside a Tim Burton film. I wouldn't be surprised if one of Burton`s influences is Gaudi. Parc Guell is a perfect example.

When I arrived yesterday, I really wasn't sure what to expect. Just making it to the hostel was a major achievement in my book. Before I had even put away my bag, I met a couple of my Irish bunkmates and went straight to the beach. Within a hour of arriving, I had a beer in hand, sitting in the sand, getting a massage from the mobile massuers who walk along the beach. And in honor of Memorial Day, we found a few Americans on the beach playing American football. Trying to explain the basic rules to two Irishmen got a bit tricky. Rugby really doesn't translate.

Barcelona so far has really reminded me of New York. Just with better architecture. And a beach. It´s got that same energetic vibe. We even had pizza for dinner. Granted, it was Spanish pizza with some kind of incredible sauce, lovely gargonzola cheese and rocket lettuce (yeah, I didn't know what that was either) but I felt at home. In staying with the Barcelonian style, I chugged 3 Red Bulls at midnight with my new pals from the hostel and we hit a few of the bars. Most of the bars are tucked in little corners in the Gothic Quarter, so you're walking through these narrow dark alleyways that look trecherous, but young people are everywhere. When the early bars close, the "secret bars" and polo clubs open up. My Irish friends knew a secret knock at an unmarked doorway. After you make it up 3 flights of stairs, suddenly a door opens and the place is packed with late nighters. I'm not much of a late night drinker, so at this point I was crashing, but well worth the experience.

Had one of those "Wow, this world really is incredibly, impossibly small" moments at the hostel. One of the bunkmates is not only from LA, he lives three blocks from me in Studio City. Of all the hostels in all the world....so funny. It's nice to have someone around who is familiar with my world, even if he is a stranger. Today we explored Barcelona with one of the Irish men. Walked up and down Las Ramblas, which reminded me of a better version of the Farmer's Market and 3rd St Promenade. We accidentally found the Barcelona Cathedral (gorgeous) and spent a few hours playing Parc Guell. The Parc is covered in these colorful mosaic sculptures and walkways. Gaudi spent 20 years living in the Parc and his house is still there. It's way up a hill but has the most incredible view of all of Barcelona. Then we squeezed in pictures at La Sagranda Familia, which I can't even accurately describe. Just...wow. The first time I wished I had a better camera. My camera just doesn't do it justice. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagrada_Família

Pretty satisfied I got the big stuff in and can just rest easy tonite. I don't have it in me to do another late night like that. The combo of Red Bull and being bathed in cigarette smoke all night made me feel like I was hungover all morning, even though I wasn't. My flight to Venice is in the morning, so I think I'll snag a few people from the hostel and go to a tapas place one of the guides in Portugal recommended. And I can always do a little shopping, although I think at this point, my purchases have outweighed what I got rid of in Amarante.

On to Venice!