El Encanto de Barcelona

Barcelona is a world away from Granada. It’s hard to believe they’re part of the same country, except most people speak the same language and everyone’s at the bars by noon in both places. Although I’d still choose Granada to study, I can truly picture myself living in Barcelona forever. As Spaniards say, the city has “un encanto,” a majestic quality that made me fall in love with it. It’s a city of perfect opposites: small enough to walk between destinations but big enough to be full of life and new discoveries; Spanish enough to be able to keep practicing the language, but blessedly internationalized to the point where paella and ham are not the only two things on the menu; and old enough to have the most beautiful historic downtown, but new enough to feel like you’re in the heart of a European cultural capital.

My trip started off a bit iffy. At some point in this Blog I need to address Ryanair, the airline company whose own slogan is “The world’s most on-time airline.” That’s because they can’t brag about any of their other qualities. The whole thing is simply comical. Yes, all of us students take Ryanair because it is the cheapest airline in Europe and it gets us to where we need (or want) to be. But it’s almost a painful process. Even booking tickets on their website is a headache, as you scroll through screen after screen of purchasable extras, from car hires to Ryanair-inscribed suitcases. At the airport people line up ridiculously far in advance because everyone wants window seats and reserved seating costs extra. One you’re on the plane you can usually bet on sitting on the previous passenger’s pretzel crumbs, since the “on-time” slogan means they can’t kill valuable minutes cleaning the aircraft. And in my hour and a half flight to Barcelona, I was consistently kept awake by blaring announcements over the speaker system offering me an endless assortment of products, each one explained in three different languages. In addition to the normal assortment of purchasable food and drinks, Ryanair offers cigarettes (ironic on a non-smoking flight?), lottery tickets, tour maps, newspapers, perfumes, and a host of other overpriced products. I guarantee that 98% of the passengers would rather sleep than hear announcements for such useless crap.

When I arrived in Barcelona I met up with my friend from high school, Tess, who is studying for 4 months there. I should mention that the one weekend I decided to visit, all of Europe was experiencing a cold wave that dropped temperatures to 30-year lows. This meant that the normally very pleasant weather in Barcelona was a bitter zero degrees (Celcius), so Tess and I did a lot of lounging in her apartment that first day. I chatted with her amazingly sweet host mom who is from Madrid, and her accent was a breath of fresh air after trying to understand Andalucians for five months. That night we went out to a bar that served drinks in very unusual sizes: the smallest was one liter, and it went up to 16 liters (to be shared, hopefully). The glasses were like fish bowls. It was fun going out, but walking around in that cold was mind-numbing. I did, however, have a great conversation with my cab driver at 4:30 a.m., since I didn’t want to risk walking back to my hostel by myself in an unknown city after drinking part of a fishbowl. He was from Granada and we were both gushing about how great it was for ten solid minutes.

The trenchcoat Tess's host-mom lent me to walk around the freezing streets.

Tess and me at the bar

On Saturday I ambled for a while in Barrio Gracia, an adorable part of town with a substantial international population. I went to the first Mexican restaurant I saw, because, as anyone who reads this Blog knows, I always make a point to buy a burrito when I’m traveling since Granada has a severe lack. I don’t know why I thought Barcelona would be much different though—after all, it’s still Spain. I need to preface my disappointment by saying that I was already having a sort of rough time that morning: some girls at the hostel thought it was ok to talk in loud voices in the room at 8:30 am, meaning I got 4 hours of sleep. Also it was absolutely freezing, and my University of Granada sweatshirt (that I bought a week ago) was stolen at the bar the night before. So this burrito was meant to lift my mood, but sadly the minute I saw the woman layer the tortilla with mixed greens and then add brie cheese and sushi rice, I felt my eight euros go down the drain. It didn’t even come with beans, and when I realize that she didn’t add guacamole, I honestly almost cried. Luckily she sensed my imminent freak-out and gave me a side cup of the stuff, smiling empathetically when I said I was from California and was going a bit crazy without my Mexican food.

Ok, enough about odd cuisine obsessions (although can I stress one more time that it shouldn’t be so hard for these people to get down simple recipes????). On to what really counts, the city itself. I met up with my friend Hanna, who I’ve basically known all my life. Her sister Kaila was my best friend since I was six, and Hanna has lived in Barcelona for the past year and a half. We had coffee at the most adorable café (very reminiscent of Paris) and then she showed me all around Barrio Gótico, the old Gothic part of the city. This is when I really fell in love. Small alleyways, beautiful buildings, amazing Cathedrals, and so much life in the streets! It was like Paris but even more charming. We also walked along the beach—this city has everything! That night we cooked chili in the most amazing apartment Hanna shares with her boyfriend. I’m too jealous of her life, so I’ve decided I need to move to Barcelona after I graduate and try to replicate it. Anyway, it was great to hang out with them and be reminded of so many fun memories from growing up with her and Kaila.

On Sunday Tess and I took a free walking tour, although the frigid temperature even managed to turn the hot tour guide and his New Zealand accent into a painful experience. We then went to the Picasso Museum (where I realized that I don’t really like Picasso all that much) and had some Basque-style tapas for dinner. Granada spoils with me with free tapas, so paying two euros for a tiny little bite without a drink felt criminal. 

On Monday I devoted my day to Antoni Gaudi. I visited Park Güell, full of amazing architecture by the eccentric artist and very reminiscent of scenes from Alice in Wonderland. That man seems like he was on one long absinth trip (which apparently he was at times, according to our tour guide), but it definitely paid off, since his work is stunning. Then I met up with Hanna for lunch, and she brought me to her favorite sandwich place in the city. Yep, I’m going to move back to Barcelona just to have those bocadillos every day. After lunch I saw Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, his huge and unfinished cathedral. It was pretty impressive to say the least! The projected date of completion is between 2030 and 2080, so the construction team is certainly leaving themselves some room to work with.

Park Güell

Beautiful stained glass in La Sagrada Familia

My return flight was also notable, not so much for the endless promotion of products as for the very typical Spanish moments. A man on the flight refused to give up his seat (apparently it couldn’t be occupied for safety reasons or something), so we couldn’t pull out of the gate until he either complied or the police came (they were actually called). This means we were delayed (I’m sure the creators of the Ryanair slogan were repenting their choice of words), and so everyone in the plane started getting riled up. I’ve never seen such a thing! A chorus of Spaniards were chanting, “Vámanos!” and “Venga ya, vamos 35 minutos de retraso!” (We’re already 35 minutes late!). People were joking to their neighbors, “Qué coño!” and all sorts of curse words, but being social creatures, it seemed like they were enjoying every minute of it. I was sitting in between two men from Malaga, and I was completely cracking up at the absurdity of hearing two very friendly grown men dressed in business suits  dropping “coño” (the equivalent of fuck, although apparently less weighted or more accepted) every other word. People were even chanting for the flight attendants to kick the disruptive man off the flight. When the man finally moved seats, he was basically ostracized by the entire cabin community, although the other passengers seemed to have formed a unique bond between one another, and I’m sure that at least a few will meet up to share drinks and recount the experience after. Oh, Spain.

All in all I loved Barcelona, air travel and arctic temperatures and pretentious burritos aside. One of my favorite parts about this little trip was the fact that I was still in Spain, so I could communicate easily with everyone I encountered. Some of the best times I had were random conversations with people I met around the city—in a bakery, a taxi, a boutique, and even talking to friends like Hanna and her boyfriend in Spanish. Traveling within Spain is the perfect way to see new places while still practicing what I came here to learn. I hope to go back soon, maybe when my parents visit or maybe to move there permanently!