Barcelona. Words cannot express my love for this city. When flying into Barcelona we had to fly into Girona and then take the bus into Barca, which was a journey. It was a 1.5 hr ride but once we got into the city, it was all worth it. We got to our hostel and met up with two girls from our program, we walked around the Rambla and I couldn’t believe how BEAUTIFUL the streets of Barcelona were. The architecture, the flowers, the people…all beautiful. Our natural instincts (I’m assuming) led us to the shopping area. We went to Zara’s, H&M and a few other stores. After shopping, we got tapas and sangria and waited for the boys to arrive. The sangria in Spain…definitely the best sangria I have ever had. After dinner we met the boys and went to this African bar called OBAMA. There was African memorabilia everywhere, I loved it. We had a few drinks, went back to our hostel, got dressed for the evening and then went to some club within walking distance of our hostel. It wasn’t the best club, but we definitely made the best of it.
The following days were spent sightseeing during the day and partying into the early mornings. Our second day in Barca we went to the Picasso museum, Sagrada Familia, tried paella, and walked around the city. We ended up going back to the Obama bar but this time we were seated further into the bar and that was when we realized that the place was about English colonization and was borderline racist haha.
That night we went to the Porto Olympico and it was amazing. One of my favorite memories of being in Barcelona was a walk to the subway station that night. We walked down the Rambla, it was warm out and we were passing back a bottle of wine between us. 100 % legal and 100% amazing. The strip is full of a bunch of different dance clubs and bars. It was very diverse! There was an American, Australian, and a salsa club. We just went from bar to bar experience the different “cultures” and danced the night away. I remember distinctly hearing a lot of Beyonce haha.
I remember the funniest interaction I had was with this man who asked me to dance. I told him that I was here to dance with my friends, so he turns to Fabian and asks him if he could steal me for a dance. Fabian signals with his hands to go ahead and then man grabs me and starts to dance. I guess being American, I assumed our dancing would be close and like a little bump and grind, but it in Barcelona, it’s completely different. This guy was all over the place, and dancing crazy. The best way to describe it is I felt like he was dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld. It was crazy.
Across from the bars are a strip of hookah bars. They are all in cabanas and outdoors, it was amazing to be sitting outside on the warm night. Before we knew it, the sky was getting lighter and that was when we realized that it was almost 7am. We left the strip and headed towards the port just in time to see the sun rising. Sitting there watching the sunrise over the Mediterranean in Barcelona…it was just one of those moments where you think to yourself, life cannot get any better than this. It was also the night I fell in love with Barcelona. <3
We headed back to our hostel and took a quick nap and then set out to see FCB stadium and Park Guell. After checking out the park, we went and had Chinese food. What a faux pas but let me tell you—it was delicious! It was so weird to see asian people speaking catalan too. Haha. We took a walk by the beach that night and the water was as warm as I imagined it to be. After taking a few pictures we headed hostel to get ready for a night out.
On our last day the boys wanted to go to a bull fight. In my little naive head, I imagined a Spanish bullfight to be a little guy teasing a bull with a red cape, it’s all fun and games, but boy, was I wrong. Right when we get in I see a bull being pulled off the field by two horses. I’m a little confused but I wait for the next round to begin. As it started I quickly learned that this was the worst thing I had ever experienced. A Spanish bullfight is not a fun little game. It is a bull getting brutally stabbed and falling over from how much blood it was losing. The matador is there to just finish he bull off. Watching the people cheer once the bull is killed was very interesting. They loved it, it made me realize was major difference in our cultures. They loved it and I was disgusted. It took me awhile to actually bring myself to watching the whole thing. I had my eyes shut for awhile, but after while I think I just became desensitized to what was happening. It also makes me sad to say but I think I may have enjoyed it more if there was a chance that the people could die. I think that it would have been more of an actual fight, because there is no actual “fight”, it is literally, the bull being killed. It’s horrible. I don’t recommend it; it was expensive and not fun to watch, however, I am glad I got to experience something so vital to their culture. I would never do it again, but I look at it like a learning experience.
It was our last night in barca and we went back to the port. By this time it was just Tammy, Gil, Oscar and I. After checking out the clubs the boys and girl split up and Tammy and I hung out at the hookah lounges. This time we found a place that was completely outside and we grabbed a seat. The owner of the lounge started talking to Tammy and me and offered us complimentary drinks and hookah, how could we turn that down? After an hour or so we went on an adventure to find the boys and spent the rest of the night dancing, it was amazing. Since we were leaving that day, we went home a little earlier…5am and got some sleep before we had to check out of our hostel.
That morning we had to say goodbye to the boys. They were going off in a different direction and Tammy and I headed to the airport that would be taking us back to Italy.
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