Our hotel was just a block off La Rambla, with a view of a museum in front of which all the cool kids go to skate. After dropping off our luggage, we set off for the Boqueria, which we'd heard is the "Nordstoms of grocery stores." Amidst countless tiny stands selling exotic fruits and cured meats and creative candies, hundreds of people bustled and bought. We purchased dragon fruit, figs, and a coconut-mango smoothie {and yes, the rumor that Americans are accustomed to much more sugar than other countries is very true}.
I was very disappointed to find out that my father had actually considered moving us from Boston to Barcelona when I was a child. As the head of the international program for a software company, living in Europe would've made his work much easier, but they told us they'd rather him relocate to Amsterdam {an offer he obviously declined, seeing as we moved to Arizona and he began working for himself instead}. But I can completely understand why my dad loves the city so much. Barcelona is this metropolitan center of Catalunya in Spain where the typical skyscrapers of the modern world mix with the cathedrals of medieval Catholicism and ancient ruins echoing of the old Roman providence.
I made up my mind. I absolutely 100% want to live in Barcelona at some point in my life.
As a tourist, I highly recommend using the hop-on-hop-off bus tour, which picks up all around the city every five minutes and gives information about every sight passed with earbuds, language of your choice.
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| Along La Rambla. If you want to be weirded out, look up the bizarre Catalan Christmas tradition, Caga Tio {see all the logs on the middle right side of the picture?} |
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| Along La Rambla. The Spanish love their candy. |
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| Catedral de Barcelona |
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| Santa Maria del Pi |
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| Ancient Romans used to make fish jellies in those giant caulrons seen fractured above. |
We visited plenty of museums, the first of which displaying artifacts from the old Roman settlement Augusta Barcino. What I had no idea was that, right below us, an entire village had been escavated beneath the museum in just the 20th century. It was wild being able to see-- in person-- a place where people from an entirely different millenium used to perform their daily activities.
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| At the Mesue Maritim / Maritime Museum. |
Can I say that Spaniards truly know how to do food? Now, they seem to have this obsession with meat, whilst I could live without, but Rachel was very insistant on ordering plenty of strange plates.
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At a medieval castle overlooking the sea. 
So I noticed that European men in general are a lot less shy then Americans. The entire time we were on the continent, we met constant catcalling and stares {and I'm not saying that to brag, although it was flattering, it was just a bizarre thing to me}. It actually got to be kind of funny. For example, one night at a tapas bar, we were seated next to a group of drunk Englishmen in their twenties. One of them was resting his arm on my mom's chair, and when she approached him to sit down he said, "Oh sorry, I'll move my hand. Or maybe I won't!" She rolled her eyes and kept her back turned for our paella dinner. But later the guys started flirting with me and Rachel, commenting on how we were Americans and asking if we knew fun night activities in Barcelona. When we said we didn't know, one of them replied, "Fine then, we'll just ask your friend here!" My mom whipped around so fast to clarify, "Actually, I'm their MOTHER!" Ohhhh boy was the look on their faces absolutely priceless!
Speaking of awkward situations... one of the nights was so cold that, while on the second story of the tour bus, I slipped my arms inside my sweater and fell asleep. My mom shook me awake to get off at our stop but my arms were stuck. I was already holding a bag over my shoulder, and as I was hobbling quickly down the stairs I struggled and squirmed to poke my arms out in their proper sleeves. Finally I did, just as I hopped off the last stair-- but the force was so much that I couldn't keep my balance as I slipped on a puddle and face-planted in front of everyone inside the bus. |
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| At the Plaça de Catalunya. Columbus pointing {in the wrong direction} towards the Americas. |
The night life in Barcelona is phenomenal. Unlike us boring Americans, whose doors often close at nine, many of the Spanish restaurants don't even open up for dinner until then. The streets are alive with light and sound and the excitement of hundreds of people shopping at all the uptown stores. Add on top of that the Christmas charm-- oh it was magical!
It rained much of the time we were there. I didn't realize that I'd never actually learned how to use an umbrella until I broke it, but it was so wet anyway that my boots were completely soaked through.
It rained much of the time we were there. I didn't realize that I'd never actually learned how to use an umbrella until I broke it, but it was so wet anyway that my boots were completely soaked through.
On the grounds of the capital, the fountain show features water dancing to music from beautiful orchestral music to the Spongebob Squarepants them.
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