Barthelona

So! Back again. To Barcelona we go!

On Saturday I was up nice and early to get myself to Southend Airport for my flight to Barcelona! Everything went smoothly – EasyJet was much more comfortable than originally anticipated – and I landed in Barcelona at about 1:00 or so their time (Barcelona being an hour ahead of London, and so six hours ahead of EST). I took a shuttle from my terminal to Doug’s, and found him sitting patiently at arrivals. Yay!

Montjuic

From there, we took a quick bus trip from the airport into the center of Barcelona, the Plaça de Catalunya.  For those of you who don’t know, the primary language of Barcelona isn’t Spanish (though they all do know Spanish as well), but is instead Catalan, which sounds a lot like a mix between Spanish and French, though I’m sure it’s more complex than that. From the Plaça de Catalunya, we got our metro passes and went to our hostel, the Albergue Studio Hostel, off the L6 line, stop Reina Elisenda (Doug aren’t you impressed I remembered that all on my own?). The man who owned the hostel was extremely nice; he sat us down in his office and took out a map of Barcelona, outlining all the major things to do and circling all the places we should check out. That was very helpful! That, plus my little Barcelona book, was certainly enough to guide the rest of our trip!

Magic Fountain!

Once in our room, we planned out our trip, and – being famished – headed out to the area of the Montjuïc Magic Fountain light show! It’s pretty much a giant fountain that, every Friday and Saturday night, plays music and lights up. But on the way we grabbed dinner at a little restaurant (and were highly amused by the fact that the wait staff were pretty much doing nothing and instead were gathered around a TV watching a football match – and Barcelona wasn’t even playing!). Unfortunately, it kind of started to pour on us in the middle of the light show, and despite our best efforts, we were still soaked when we got to the subway. Should’ve brought an umbrella…

Passion Facade

The following day, after a simple but satisfying breakfast at the hostel (“Café? Tea? Chocolate?”) we headed out to the Sagrada Familia, the absolutely breathtaking church designed by the famous architect, Gaudi. Construction began on the Sagrada Familia began in 1882, and is still continuing to this day – apparently construction isn’t planned to be finished until 2026, or later! Only eight of the eighteen originally designed towers have been put up – and it’s been over a hundred years since construction began!

Nativity Facade

There are three major façades on the outside of the church; the Nativity Façade, which was the first to be completed, and is extremely elaborate, and stuffed full of symbolism about the birth of Christ (as well as, of course, a depiction of Christ’s birth).

The second façade is the Passion Façade, which is at the main entrance of the church, and is comparatively tame. This façade didn’t even begin to be built until after Gaudi’s death, but the architects that took over used his designs to build it. It, too, is finished.

The third, and what will be the most impressive of the façades, apparently, is the Glory façade. This is nowhere near being finished (construction began in 2002), but will depict the road to God through Death, Judgment, and Glory. Hopefully one day, if we ever get a chance to go back to Barcelona, we’ll be able to see the façade finished!

"Give us this day..."

The inside of the church was equally breathtaking, of course; the ceilings were magnificent, and we learned that the abundance of columns was to give the church the feeling of being like a forest. But my favorite part was the stained glass windows; unlike any I’ve seen before, they were incredibly vibrant, and cast beautifully colored reflections over the white stone of the rest of the church. It was magnificent!

Another aspect of the church that I was really taken with was on the outside, again; there’s a sculpture, of sorts, that has the words “Give us this day our daily bread” written over and over again in dozens of different languages. I thought this was such a great way to connect all the visitors and worshippers that came to the church, from all over the world, not to mention it looked really cool.

Ceiling

From the Sagrada Familia, we walked down a pedestrian road (the Avenigua de Gaudi) lined with cafes to the famous Hospital de Sant Pau, which is this grand hospital complex that is unfortunately no longer open. We weren’t able to get a tour, but we did get some great pictures!

Hospital de Sant Pau

After that, we grabbed a quick lunch, and headed to the Museu Picasso, which had a lot of his work from his early years, before he got into his surrealist movement. That was really interesting to me; it’s easy to categorize Picasso as a great artist, but one whose art is difficult to relate to, especially when one is like me and not in the least educated at art. Seeing his realist styles made him all the more impressive to me.

From the Museu Picasso, we went back to the hostel early, to give Doug some time to do homework and rest. And, weirdly enough, on the trip back, we ran into David, another kid in my study abroad program, on the Metro. Talk about weird coincidences!

Park Guell

On Monday, we woke up and headed to Park Güell, an expansive park filled with more of Gaudi’s strange creations. Monday we decided to take it slow, as Doug was tiring, so we meandered through the park and took lots of breaks (in between Instagram-ing every plant we came by – Doug’s such a closeted hipster). It was a beautiful day, and the park gave great views of the city, all the way down to the ocean!

View from the park!

After, we headed back down to the Plaça Catalunya and headed down La Rambla, the famous street overflowing with street performers, sidewalk restaurants, and as many cheap tourist trinket stands as you could ask for. We enjoyed ourselves some traditional Spanish paella and some less traditional nutella crepes (because it’s impossible for me to travel anywhere without acquiring one, I’ve found). The weather took a turn for the worse, so we decided to go to the aquarium – aptly named L’Aquarium. It was filled with brightly colored fish of all kinds, and lots and lots of sharks.

From L’Aquarium, our original plan was to head to the beach to check out the area, but unfortunately, Doug’s lung began to really bother him again, so after a rest, we got ourselves back to the hostel to let him lie down and rest. I navigated my way to a grocery store and got us a delicious and in no way nutritious dinner, and we relaxed for the rest of the evening.

On the beach

Luckily, Doug was feeling much better the next day, but with no intention of re-aggravating the issue, I made the executive decision to spend the day on the beach. The beach was all but deserted (it being only about 65°), mainly full of men trying to rent lounge chairs and women offering massage and henna services. So we settled down in an empty area and were just getting comfortable, when we heard a group of men speaking an unfamiliar language come up right behind us, and seat themselves probably less than a foot away. They jabbered away at each other in some sort of Eastern European language, swigging beers and ordering every service available on the beach. After a bit, I got up to go to the water, and turning around, was highly amused by the sight of an empty beach in almost all directions, Doug lying down alone, and six large, shirtless and potbellied men sitting up in a line behind him. It was quite a sight!

We got ourselves some lunch and took a slow walk along the beach, before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to get to the airport early, and heading back to the hostel. We gathered our belongings, bid goodbye to our gracious host, and got ourselves back on the bus to the airport!

We wound up sitting in the airport for a while, but it was fine; we got some wifi, had dinner (overpriced cheeseburgers, yummm) and Doug took a nap.

When the plane finally boarded, we made the discovery that we were travelling on the same night as a Barcelona football match – evident by the abundance of people decked out head-to-toe in Barcelona gear, who kept breaking out in song throughout the flight. At some point I think one of the flight attendants found out that Barcelona had won the match, and everyone began chanting their fight song and cheering. While a little intimidating, it was also extremely amusing.

Unfortunately, the amusement ended when we got to immigration. Apparently London Luton is extremely strict with their customs – after waiting in line for about an hour (and, as usual, watching the EU line whip by with nary a pause), the foul-tempered man behind the glass asked me impatiently for my letter of acceptance to Westminster. Well, for my first few trips abroad, I had carried it around, but after never getting a second glance any other time in customs (and certainly no questions about the veracity of my schooling), I didn’t have it. Luckily, he was okay with taking my student I.D. card, but he wasn’t very happy about it. He stamped me back in the country grumpily.

Then it was Doug’s turn.

At this point, it’s midnight, we’re tired, and we just want to get back to the flat. I had Doug’s backpack on, because his lung was still hurting, and now, watching him walk up to the man who looked no less dour then before, I was worried. And I waited. And waited. And waited. I tried peeking around the corner between the little booths, and saw Doug looking at his phone, hands shaking, and the man looking around exasperatedly, tapping his fingers impatiently. But finally, Doug came through.

Apparently, Doug always seems to look very suspicious to everyone he comes by; the immigration officer didn’t believe him when he said that he was going to be leaving the country in five days. Without proof, the man said, Doug wasn’t doing his “duty as a traveler” by not having a boarding pass printed out for his return. Doug tried to reason that you couldn’t print a boarding pass until the day before the flight, but the officer was steadfast. He told Doug that if he didn’t have some proof he was going to leave, he wasn’t going to let him into the country. Our oversight was that his printed ticket confirmation for his flight back to JFK was in my backpack, and the man wouldn’t let Doug get it back from me, or for me to return to give it to him. So finally Doug pulls out his phone and turns on his data in order to pull up his email confirmation. The man looks at it, nods, snippily told him to be better prepared next time, and waved him through. Something of a nightmare, if you ask me!

But one way or another we made it back to the room (a bus and cab ride later), and collapsed for the evening, not waking up (in Doug’s case) until after noon on Wednesday.

As this post has gotten long (and there was some discontent about the length of the previous post), I won’t go on any further – I’ll split up the next ones a little bit more, I promise! Sorry for rambling – and if you’ve read all of this, thanks! You’re a true friend. :)

So, until next time. Cheers! xo