Chapter 4: Round 2 with the City of Wonder: The Beat

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I'm back online and ready to go.

We are now safely in Nice, which is nice. I can already hear you groaning at that one. Apologies, but thats just how I roll. It is hot here, but beautiful....like a resort town. Which means that everything has a resort price tag, so tonight it's a PB and J for dinner.

Before I start, I feel I should say that this will be a long entry. If you want to enjoy it, I suggest getting a warm beverage or a sandwhich, and settling down in a place where you can enjoy this. Or whatever.

We left Madrid in good spirits on the 9th. There wasn't much to say about that day, save that we had a very nice train ride up from Madrid to Barcelona. It was a travel day in the purest sense as we crashed out on the uncomfortable seats, listened to the music that reminded us of home, and anticipated the balmy coasts of Barcelona. Our group also had the pleasure of being able to watch Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief in Espanol. Couldn't tell you if I liked it better in Spanish or not, but the general consensus was that it was passable, if not just a little rediculous at times. We touched down in Barcelona with no real idea of where our hostel was. We had the area in mind, but me and Jared had not spoke about whose responsibility it would be to get us from the train station to the hostel. It has since been decided that since planning trains and booking flights is such tedious work, it will lay on me to foot this responsibility in the future. And I'm ready I promise (for all you parents reading).

After wandering around for about 30 minutes, positive our hostel was 'just around the next corner', we gave in and Brodie called the hostel for directions. Exactly one block and one left turn later, we were there. Shame...we were so close. We dropped our gear in our two rooms and hit the nearby Cafe Alsonso for grub. Not a bad meal and we were hungry enough to eat anything, so it was a good combination. It was a relaxed day afterwards, as we walked Las Ramblas and I pointed out the places I knew (it was nice to be somewhere where I knew some things). We went back to the hostel to meet our roommates for the week, Caitlin and Laura. Knowing full well that they will eventually read this and chastize me for however I describe them, I will say that in the week, they were great company while in Barcelona. Sarcastic humor coupled with great personalities made for easy friendships within the span of about a day. They were out that evening, so we went down to the hostel common area for a bit of ping pong and beer. We had been warned (or rather, enticed) when Caitlin had mentioned that the hostel beers came in huge cups for only 3 euros. I'd never seen a decent hostel beer before, but let it be said that HelloBCN is the real deal. We named the big cups a 'whole Tori face' or beer, for as you held it up to her face, it just about covered it. For those who like their comparisons, it was roughly 3 beers in one cup. Damned impressive really. We ended up meeting Max, our new favorite Canadien, who had been traveling since May, which made for some interesting conversations. He took the lot of us out to a close by bar (after we had all consumed at least two Tori faces of beer) to a place where the taps were at the tables and your 'high score' was on a nearby screen. After a couple rounds of Kings Cup, we had the high score of the whole bar, something of which we were reasonably proud of. We also met quite the character...literally. In the bathroom, I met a south African who went by the name of Tony Montana, who was dressed head to toe in a white suit. His demeanor was suave and business like, as he constantly was trying to sell cheap cigars to us. I bought one just to bring him to the table. His catch phase, which you should hear me do at some point was 'My name....Tony MONtana!'. Truly something to behold while intoxicated, but he was just one of those people you meet on your travels. We stumbled home and hit the hay.

Day 2. Mostly a recovery effort. Crazy enough, but multiple Tori faces (from now on referred to as TFs) of beer and a table with a tap can make for a difficult morning. We had asked the night before if they could put the replay of the Saints vs Vikings game on the TV, and they obliged (this place is forever only in my highest regards). It was an unremarable game with miserable looking men comentating, but just a taste of football helped a world to stay my need for a fix. Around midday, Tori, Brodie, and I walked to the mall (MareMagnum, if I recall) to grab some prepaid phones and a watch for me. We passed a little street market/bazzar thing nearby, and vowed to hit it on the return trip. After grabbing the phones, I stopped by the watch section to grab a cheap watch. I pointed at a nearby watch...a simple 12 hour watch...and was quickly prompted with a loud no. The women immediately suggested in her broken english that a fanicer, similarly priced watch would be better suited for me. Despite my pleas, I couldn't walk away without this fancy watch, so I caved and got it. Turns out, it tells time on the moon or something, because it worked like no watch I had ever laid eyes on before. In time I managed to figure out a way to read time on it, but never fully uncovered the mystery of it's purpose. That evening, at my request, we returned to a restaurant I had been to before two years ago to see if it was still as amazing as I remembered. Max accompanied the 4 of us as we walked to the Place Reial to Les Quince Nits. Thought the line was long, it moved at a steady clip, and a group of guys nearby were performing some amazing acrobatic stunts nearby to keep our attention. When we finally got in, and got fed, we were floored. Unless everyone was being polite to appease me (and if thats the case, whatever, I had an amazing meal), I can say with reasonable certainty that it was the best meal that we'd had to that point. I'd tell you, but I don't want anyone salivating on things that aren't theirs. A quiet nice in with some more TFs capped off the night.

The next day had a twist. We had planned today for sightseeing, as we hadn't gone out until 3am drinking the previous night (this is not the twist, by the way). We went up to Mont Juic, the nearby mountain/castle area with a gorgeous view of the surrounding city. On this adventure, Laura and Caitlin accompanied us, and the honor was all ours. We spent the next hour or so chatting about our native lands and cracking jokes while we walked around the history. According to Caitlin, the Internet hasn't made it to Australia yet, alongside cars and a couple other modern commodities. We broke off from our roommates and continued on to La Sagrada Familia. We took the train there, but not before a pickpocketing attempt. While hard to explain without using my hands, a man had attempted, with his initially friendly demeanor, to reach around Broderick and pull his exiting credit card from a ticket machine and throw it to his second man. Brodie, ever the quick witted man, saw what was happening and slapped at the mans hand as he pulled the card out. It fell on the floor, and before anyone else could grab for it, I had my foot and whole body weight over it. We shouted loudly and shooed them off, sucessfully winning the day and getting to the cathedral with no other problems. A long, long, long line kept us from making it up to the top spire for the view (a bummer, but we dealt), but the cathedral itself has come along nicely since my last visit. I doubt that I will ever visit this building and not be amazed with it's construction. The spiral staircases and sunlit stained glass windows are entrancing. I have no doubt that upon it's completion, it will be hailed as the world's masterpiece of construction, and hopefully Gaudi will hear it, whereever he is. After leaving there, we headed up to another Gaudi creation: Parc Guell. Though it is one hell of a hike to the top, it is as impressive a park as it is a mosaic. It's hard to describe without pictures, but it is one of the most elegant outdoor areas I've ever seen. It's a shame that around every corner, there is a tourist sticking their tongue out and snapping a shot, as if to tell the world 'look at me, I'm at a masterpiece and I don't even care'. As we finished up, we headed back to the hostel to siesta and shower. The plan that night was to grab grub, drink at the hostel, and then go out to Barcelona's biggest club, Razzmatazz. I had a great time the last time I was there, and was pretty stoked to be back and dressed to impress. Dinner, ended up being where Laura and Caitlin had taken us to for lunch, a tapas bar called Bar Can Evsebil. The food was remarkably tasty, considering the whole meal of around 8 plates had cost us 5 euros a person for a filling meal. So, we went back with 10 people to try again, and again, we very pleased with the results.

The night progressed at the hostel with drinking games with great new company in our brazillian friend Leo, and new friends from baja California, Katie and Colleen. Eventually the time came for our trip to the 'Tazz, so we loaded onto the metro and were dropped off at a nearby bar with instructions to head to Razzmatazz around 1am. At the bar, we drank a bit more (is this a motif in the story yet?), did some shots, placed some foosball, and met new friends Julia and Markus. Afterwards, we headed to Razzmatazz, but for me alone, there was a problem: at some point in the night, I had dropped my ticket, and was denied entry completely. I won't pull punches in this story, I was exceptionally upset. I tried for a bit to get in with no success, so angry and deflated as much as I have ever been, I went across the street, did a shot of whiskey, hailed a cab, got home, punched the bathroom wall as hard as I could, and went to bed upset. Obviously, shit happens, but this had hit hard.

The next morning was only compounded by a hangover of monumental proportions. I had gotten everyone's story from the night before, and no one had an amazing time. Jared had made friends with the Cali girls by walking them ALL the way hyome, which is a feat by itself. Tori hqd mqde it to 5am, but defined the experience as 'not really my scene', so by midday, with the hangover going away, I was feeling more myself. In hindsight, if this is the absolute worst thing that happens to me on this trip, I think thats an amazing trip still. To dwell on something that is over and done with is not worth my time on this trip, so I took the day to just deal and get over it. It took all off about 3 hours, as we took this day to hit the beach and swim in the Mediterranian Sea. Though salty, it is the most comfortable sea I've had the pleasure to swim in. We even managed to find a gift from Poseidon himself: an unopened can of San Miguel beer, barnacles and all. We didn't partake of this salty gift, but rather threw it back to the sea for ones more worthy (or desparate) than ourselves. A great day on the beach was capped with a 3rd trip to the tapas bar, and a 'quiet' night with our newly formed hostel crew. The most unfortunate part was that today was Broderick's last day, and it seems; just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone again. We still miss him, and Brodie, if you are reading this, we all still miss the hell out of you brother. Also, I will beat you in fantasy football this week, so get ready for me to bring the pain : )

Our last full day in Barcelona was filled with the sights we hadn't yet seen. Again with Laura and Caitlin in hand, we headed off to the Parc de la Cuitadella. I had been this park once before, but somehow managed not to see any of it really. Within about 10 minutes of being there, we found the most amazing fountain I've ever seen. To the best of my knowledge, it was called Gaudi Cascada, and adorned with fearsome water creatures, a bounty of waterfalls, and topped with a guilded man in an even more guilded chariot, it was truly something else. For some reason at this point in our journey, everyone's goofy side really kicked in. Every other thing we found in the rest of our time in this park, from the rose bushes of the Catalan House of Parliment to the gardens of the Parc de la Cuitadella, everything was one rediculous and hilarious shot after another. It was about as much fun as I've had in Barcelona. We opted for another trip to the beach afterwards, having a similarly good time, and going back to the tapas bar for, yes, a 4th time. I can't remember the last time I've been to any restaurant for 4 consecutive meals ever. We ended the night with a very fun night of card games with the unforgettable Barcelona crew (sans Laura and Caitlin, who had left before, and were missed). To Leo, Katie, Max, Colleen, Julia, Markus, Caitlin, and Laura: I have not had the pleasure of meeting such a fun and enjoyable group of people in such a regretably short period of time. I hope all of your journeys, wherever they may take you, help you find whatever it is out there in this crazy world you are looking for. You are all welcome in Portland, OR if you decide to stop by. Just give us a heads up first.

The last time I was in Barcelona, it was the city the captivated me. I called it the 'City of Wonder', sort of an homage to Rhianna's Disturbia (don't judge), as a city that could take you over without your knowing, to show you things you thought you could never see. Between Gaudi's creations, the remarkable parks, and the other unforgettable sights, it was the city I focused on. But this time, it wasn't about the city at all, but the people. The people I met in Barcelona, from hostel friends to shop keepers, were what drew my fascination. It's hard to think that the lifestyle of the Catalunyans is moving on, right alongside our own lives, but whether or not we appreciate that, it is. Barcelona is a beautiful place, marching along to it's own beat. It is as much a town as it is a song, continuously going through your head, showing you things about yourself you may never have considered before. It has the energy of a club track, but retains the subtleties of a 100 piece orchestra, and no matter how many times you hear it, theres always something about it thats different for that particular listen. And so, as we move on to France tomorrow (or 3 days ago, but who is counting), the beat marches on, stopping for no one. And if I can steal a line from The Big Lebowski's ending scene, I don't know about you, but I find that comforting.

My love to everyone. Hopefully will update on Nice and Monaco within the week.

Signing off from Barcelona, Spain (in spirit)

Ben

PS: I uploaded a ton of pics, but only 9 will show. Click on a pic to see them all. This applies to all future posts as well!

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Photos

Run AWAY!!
Frontrunner for 'Photograph of the Trip' so far

Whimsy Shot
We figured our trip didn't have enough whimsy

Countryside
Took this one on a moving train...left handed. I'm so good, it's scary

Stop and Smell the Roses
Or just shove your face in them

Happy Pills
Over here it's candy, not medication

New Friends
Caitlin is on the left, Laura on the right