BARCELONA!!!!!!

After what may be described as the most uncomfortable train ride ever we arrived in Madrid, Spain to drop off my bags for my stay in Spain after our trip. We got off of the train and both Pat and I tried to figure out which was north. Apparently our Spanish was terrible because all we got were directions to the metro station. I called my head hunter company to make sure it was ok for me to drop off my bags at the language school I would be attending and of course no one picked up. I then called the school who had no idea what I that I was planning on leaving my bags at the school and they didn’t think there was any room for my bags. We decided to find our way to the school which at this point I was half expecting to be a complete scam. We entered the actually quite beautiful school and talked with the secretary and then head of the school who eventually agreed to let me leave my giant duffle bag in a broom closet, crisis averted. We then boarded our high speed train to Barcelona.

We arrived in Barcelona tired as hell from our horrible train ride and crashed for a couple hours in our hostel. We then got up and tried to get our bearings and went to a local grocery to get some bread and cheese for dinner, where we ran into an American girl. It was at this point we realized our hostel was not near any of the major tourist attractions when she said, “What are you guys doing here? Is there even a hostel around here?”. We then realized that we were in the middle of a Barcelona apartment suburb and headed to bed for the night.

The next morning we got to got on the metro and two trains and twenty minutes later we were at the Parc de Guall. We walked to the park which was designed y the famous artist Gaudi, who like Seal, is apparently famous enough to only have one name. The park was pretty cool, apparently Guadi designed it to be a utopian neighborhood and has a beautiful entrance and some interesting sloping roads. While the entrance area was beautiful, there were only two houses ever built in the area. So essentially the park is an unfinished sub development.

We then went to a little store to find Aaron Day a Barcelona soccer jersey (Messi). At one store we went to the price tag said forty euros. The shop keeper clearly spoke English but used a calculator to instantly display that he would mark down the price to thirty five euros. We decided that we kind of stared at each other saying that we are not so sure about this price. The shopkeeper recalculated the price of the jersey, aka typing into the calculator thirty euro. We were still not impressed but since Pat was Chinese he gave us yet another discount, now the jersey was 25 euros. We decided to look around more and went down one more store, which actually was the same store. The bargaining again started at forty euros and he gave us a discount down to thirty euros even though this new shop keeper claiming that the price for the jersey was fixed by the Barcelona Football Club. We then told him that the top half of the store offered us twenty five euro but because this jersey had Messi on the back, the other jersey did too, it cost and extra five euro. We then asked why he could give us a ten euros off in the first place and he said it was because they didn’t have to pay tax on the jersey. He also pulled demonstrated these complex calculations by displaying 40- 10 on a calculator. Clearly these guys both graduated from the same ivy league business school. So the shopkeeper was willing to perform tax evasion to get us to buy the jersey AND the tax on this jersey was 25%. BS whatever, Lauren loves Aaron and bought the jersey.

We then made our way to Las Ramblas which is a huge strip near the marina. Here we found a huge variety of stores which included an unreasonable number of outdoor pet shops which sold birds of every type, rodents, rabbits, lizard and turtles. We also went into an awesome open air market which smelled like heaven, except for the meat section which smelled like rotten flesh and stinky fish. After leaving the market we made our way down the rest of the street which had tons of street vendors and outside restaurant. We eventually made it to the marina and then beach where we sat and had glass of Barcelona’s famous sangria and were entertained by a man in short shorts singing and selling donuts balanced on his head while he banged on a triangle, he looked like the British guy in the holiday, Lauren was in love again with his tan bod and tight swim trunks. We made our way back to the hostel after this fun filled day and met up with a few aussies , a kiwi(new Zealander) and a couple frenchies (they enforced all stereotypes about French people). Actually the frenchies were pretty nice, just the girl sucked. She would speak in French to her friends and roll her eyes when she had to speak English. Sorry for Partying. We talked to the aussies about all the bars that people had recommended around Barcelona, which were recommended for great deals on drinks and great atmospheres. We even were informed about a couple secret bars where you had to knock on the door in order for them to let you in. Also a guy who doesn’t go to bars or clubs knew of one on the beach that was expensive but had no cover. A group of twenty of us hopped on the metro and headed straight to the beach clubs ignoring all prior advice. 30 minutes later we came out of the metro to be greeted by a couple shady guys in Fedora’s and vests, classic “I am full of shit but this outfit will make people trust me” outfit. They told us they could get us into the best club for free and handed us all passes. We begin to walk to the area where the bars are and we notice everyone is passing out these tickets, so suspicion rises and when we get to the club they say they cannot get us in, but they can get us into another club, classic mix up apparently. We being to file into this club and they stop Pat they say something in Catalan, but when someone is trying to say no in any language you usually understand. Pat had arrived in shorts and flip flops, an apparent no no at this high class club. We beg with the bouncer to just let us in, after all we did bring about 20 patrons to his club all of whom are properly dressed. He insists on not letting Pat stay. The French girl says, in French, to her friends this would not have happened if everyone was French reminding us all that French people instinctually know where there will be dress code . Pat and decide we will run back to the hostel being sure that we are able to make it back before we the last metro leaves for the dance club area or else we have at a minimum of a 2 hour walk to the club, in a city where we have no idea. We run back as street performers change their music to go along with our sprint from metro to metro. We get on literally the second to last or last train to the bar area, Pat now donned in black Good-Will dress pants and 8 year old mall walking shoes which is somehow more classy than banana republic shorts and flip flops. We make it into the club which is something out of a movie and begin to get down. Lauren Day, Pat and I throw down some solid dance moves on the dance floor and quickly begin to realize that American’s are fantastic dancers. We look around and it really looks like everyone is just standing and talking on the dance floor to each other while loud techno remixes of American songs muffle out their conversations. Lauren Day found another love, this one was physical therapist from New Zealand, he looked a little like Turkish from Snatch, but he was not nearly as good a dancer as I imagine Turkish would be, Lauren was able to look past this shortcoming however. The French girl got mad because “Americans have fun over nothEEEng” which was meant to be an insult I suspect but I am still trying to determine what she was getting at. One of the Auzzies from Melbourne who was fanstic at the shuffle gave us a quick lesson and I guarantee that both pat and I are more proficient after 10 minutes of practice than either Gunnar or Kyle, one because they are too soft and uncoordinated for such complicated moves, two we’ve got skills. Boo Ya The club eventually closes and we check our watches, it is 3:30, we were planning on staying out till 5 which is when the metro opens. We decide to buy a few beers off of some guys selling them directly out of the grocery bags which they took them out of the grocery store in, plopped down on the beach and waited for the metro to reopen. The French guy decides to go skinny dipping alone and we eventually make it back to our hostel at around 6 am and take a well needed rest.

The next morning we got up and headed to the train station to get our tickets out of Barcelona . We are surprised to find out that even with our eurorail pass our train “reservation” fee was 71 euro or around 100 bucks which is marked down from 120 euro. Happy that we ponied up for the eurorail discount card we bought our tickets and went across the street to a restraint to try the local delicacy, Payaya . We are seated and they bring us a couple small alcoholic drinks. After being charged for what we thought was free bread in Lisbon we were suspicious. At first we said we were not going to drink it but they sat there for so long (3 minutes) that Lauren Day began trying to come up with excuses for why we should drink it, “It has ice! Its our last meal in Barcelona!”. We ask the waiter about the drinks, they are free. Still suspicious we cautiously sip the drinks. They then bring out a plate of French fries and dipping sauce. There is no way this is free. We stare at the fries and ask a waiter if they are free. He says yes but he didn’t seem to speak English very well. We eat a couple more fries as if we are stealing them and decide they cannot be free and try to smooth out the sauce and spread out the fries to make it appear we hadn’t been fooled. We ask the manager if they are free and he says yes, they come with the Pallaya. Why are we such suspicious and cheap tourists? We get the Pallaya, which tastes like bland Jumbalya and then head out to see the rest of Barcelona. Lauren Day said the pallaya left a lot to be desired compared to some she had before –and we all agreed. Should have packed some hot sauce.

We walk through some more Las Ramblas and then head to the Gothic District which has buildings that actually have survived from the Roman era. We saw a Cathedral that was designed by Gaudi which was started in 1883 and guess what? It is still not done! The current estimate is that it will be done by 2020. Imagine that proposal by Gaudi, “ Guys this will be an awesome Church, unfortunately neither you or your children will likely see it as my design will take over a century to complete”. Whatever Barcelona. Lauren Day loved the layout of the city and its narrow streets. We walked around the gothic district some more and we realized how cheap we were as none of us were willing to pay the 2 euro to get into any of the museums in the area as we just took pictures from outside or through the windows. We went back to the hostel and got our stuff together to headed to the train station to get on the night train to Paris.