Packing was a nightmare, walking through security was terrifying, the lovely British accents almost made everything better, the complete lack of sleep on the nonstop flight to London did not, and my freak out session “What if I hate it here?” was completely forgotten when I saw the Spanish coast and the neat grid of Barcelona streets from on the plane.
Navigating the airport once in Barcelona took a little bit of work, but I gathered my confidence and asked questions in Spanish. I was doing pretty well until I went to buy my ticket to take the Aerobus from the airport to the city center, la Plaça Catalunya. The machine didn’t like my credit cards so some guys tried to help me out. One guy even offered to buy me a ticket with his card and then I could pay him back. It was a very kind offer, but then we saw that we could pay inside the bus in cash, so we did that instead. Everyone was quite nice and understanding, which made the process much less stressful.
Taking the Aerobus to the city center gave me my first glimpse of the city. At first, the landscape reminded me of California with its rolling hills and ocean. But these faded and turned into high risers, giant plazas, and neat city blocks. It was like nothing I had seen before. It was 8 pm and the city seemed to be just waking up, as the heat was slowly fading.
We took in one of the main roads into the city, Gran Via de les Corts Catalanes, with Barca fans singing cheers and chants most of the way. It was great fun and I was greeted by a blast of heat upon exiting the bus. It’s hot in Barcelona in the summer pretty much all the time. You’re sweating from 8 am to midnight and the metro is like an oven during siesta, the hottest part of the day (around 3 to 5 pm).
It was about 8 pm and the sun would be up for another hour as I found my way to the metro station. It was exhausting and I didn’t realize that there were elevators instead of me hauling all of my luggage up and down the stairs into the station. I must have looked like a mess. After getting off the metro, I still had to walk a few blocks to the hostel up a hill on cobblestone roads. Needless to say, my arms were rather sore for a few days after.
The hostel I stayed at was really nice with great facilities and even greater people. Hostels are like the melting pot of the young and restless, filled with people going around the world for the first time and for the umpteenth time. There is so much to say about hostel life, but I’m going to talk about that in another post; the only thing one needs to know for now is that no one ever stops and everything is an exciting adventure.
For example, I got there that evening, hopped in the shower, and then took the metro with a bunch of people to a bar right on the beach to watch the Barça v. Real Madrid football game. (It’s football or fútbol, not soccer.) I got to order my first drink (rather overpriced, but I felt a sense of accomplishment) and nursed it as we watched the game. Everyone was quite enthusiastic and went crazy when Messi scored his second goal of the game to break the tie. However, people weren’t rowdy as you would expect in other places. No one was positively hammered out of their minds, but just hanging out and enjoying a few beers.
A few notes on drinking in Spain:
- Most places don’t ask for ID. The drinking age is 18.
- It’s a marathon, not a sprint—they drink for a lot longer and into the wee hours of the morning, so you have to spread out your drinks.
- Hard alcohol is expensive. Beer or wine is the way to go and most people will drink before heading out to a bar. A bottle of decent wine for the 20-something year old palate is only three euros at most.
- Stores stop selling alcohol after 10 pm. Stock up before then.
- There is no open container law, which means that you can walk around and drink at the same time.
After the beautiful 2-1 victory, we left the bar to people watch outside the clubs before taking a taxi back to the hostel.
Public transportation is amazing in Barcelona. There is always a way to get home besides walking. The metro, bus, and trains are awesome, clean, and well priced (although you do have to keep an eye on your purse on the metro), and it’s really easy to split a taxi ride with a group of friends. A lot of the taxis are Priuses, which made me laugh.
Even around 2, 3, and 4 in the morning, Barcelona is positively alive and bursting with people. Being a night owl myself, I quite enjoyed being out late, but I was so excited that I woke myself up at 9:30, even after staying out super late and only sleeping one hour on the plane. But immediately, I knew I was going to have a great day.
To be continued… J
No comments:
Post a Comment