Dark, narrow and unsafe?

---

Dark, narrow and unsafe. This is my first impression of Barcelona. Makes sense when I mention that we arrived after dark and spent a long time on the 'darkest lit train platform' that Glyn (my husband and trusty travel companion) has ever waited on and smoking is allowed. It was a warm evening and no coats were needed - after visiting Portugal at around the same time last year, I was expecting to be cold.

We bought Barcelona passes at the airport, 58 euros each for 5 days. This paid for all transport and gets us money off various attractions. The supplied train and metro map often bore no resemblance to the journey we took. We disembarked at a station that seemed nowhere near the promised connecting metro and we trawled down the street looking for it.

The metro was old and tatty, but functional. Going up an escalator, one guy intentionally bumped into me and I immediately checked my belongings. But then I looked up and saw Glyn looking slightly distressed, the same guy had grabbed unsuccessfully at Glyn's wallet. Not a good start.

From Universitat metro station, we took a short walk down Ronda De Sant Antoni towards Carrer del Tigre where our home for the nest few days, Hostal Radio is situated. The streets I've seen so far are so dimly lit compared to the UK. I stood pressed against shop windows trying to steal enough light to be able to make sense of the map.

Hostal Radio is down a side street, the main entrance is so small that when we both stepped in with two small cases and hand luggage, it was a struggle and squeeze to close the door. The guys who work there refreshingly don't speak English and it made things 'interesting'.

The lift was a tiny cage not much bigger than a phone box and we contorted our bodies around our luggage so that we both could fit in. The stairs were wide enough perhaps for two stick insects to pass each other.

Our room is clean and has a window that overlooks mysterious stairs on the roof across the narrow backstreet. When sitting on the loo, Glyn's feet are in the shower. The room is small yet there is a massive mirror covering one wall that makes it very hard not to look at myself.

We decided to head to La Rambla del Raval, down dark, but lively pedestrianised streets - but there still is a good chance of being hit by mopeds, bicycles and skateboarders. We passed small shops and dimly lit bars with room for 10 customers, max.

Walking down Carrer de Hospital, a bloke asked Glyn for a cigarette. Neither of us smoke so we shook our heads and said sorry. But he kept on and put his arm around Glyn's shoulders asking where he was from. Torn between being polite and nervousness, Glyn told him but tried to pull away. I walked around the back of Glyn, making sure the guy wasn't trying to rob Glyn's backpack - we had been warned of pick pockets in guidebooks. The guy then asked if Glyn liked football and Glyn said yes. So then the guy started to try and 'tackle' Glyn, wrapping his leg around Glyn's and it looked like he was trying to trip him over. I was aware that the guy had a friend with him and was worried that this was an elaborate mugging. Both Glyn and I shouted "Get off" angrily at the same time, Glyn gave him a strong shove and thankfully he backed off. There were a few people around, but no one seemed to take much notice. Maybe that guy was just being over-friendly and just wanted Glyn to pretend to play footie with him, or maybe we were going to get robbed. Either way, it left us feeling uncomfortable, especially in the dark streets.

We soon found La Rambla del Raval which was slightly brighter, wide and busy. And in the centre was the Raval Cat, a large statue by Fernando Botero and it's a big old fat cat, but not big enough to stop people climbing up it to gurn for photos.

We had tapas at the Palosanto bar which Glyn had previously found on Trip Advisor under 'cheap eats'. The food was nice enough and our waiter had not only heard of Stoke (our hometown) but had been there in homage to Lemmy from Motorhead. Sadly, he found nothing there on him, although it is where Lemmy was born. But he did find lots of pubs.

It was getting on for ten by this time and I had planned to go to the Nevermind bar had we arrived earlier, but we were both feeling uncomfortable after the earlier experiences. So we headed back to out hostel planning to go to another bar on the way, but they all seemed quiet and uninviting. We have an early start tomorrow, so instead we stopped at a shop for beer and olives for me and lemonade and cakes for Glyn, then went back to our compact hotel to chill in readiness for the days ahead whilst listening to the constant dripping of the taps in the bathroom.

---