Lindsey in Lyon: Barcelona

This past winter break Allegra and I took a trip to Barcelona for the first week of vacation.

This is us on top of a Gaudi house with a glorious view of Barcelona and the Sagrada Familia behind us.

We arrived and found our hostel without problem and proceeded to go to a very tourist-y restaurant (no choice, really, because they spoke English there) and had delicious paella, a rice dish that made with vegetables or steak or seafood. As much as I love French cuisine, Spain's options were a bit more flavorful, which was nice for a change.
Our hostel was perfectly stereotypical. Each room slept around 20 people. They had a big lobby that all of the residents hung out in. It was only 9 euros and included breakfast and dinner. Allegra and I took part in the Spanish tradition of "siesta" (nap time) because we were tired from our long journey. After, we went down to the lobby and saw a guy wearing a blazers shirt. Of course we started talking to them and discovered that they were three brothers from Corvalis. It turned out that they even knew some of Allegra's friends. Random world that we live in. I wish we could have stayed there the whole time, but we had an apartment reserved for when Allegra's friend and her friend's arrived.

The square where our hostel was located.

We had some trouble meeting up with Sarah (Allegra's friend from home) because neither of us have a Spanish phone. Finally we called her from a pay phone. We met up with her at the train station and commenced to try and find the apartment. In the message Sarah had, neither a phone number nor address were listed. umm...? I was sure we had been duped and that the apartment didn't exist. We found an internet cafe, though, and Sarah found the website for the apatment and we found the telephone number and called the lady in charge. Whew! It was a relief to finally be with someone who could communicate in Spanish. The apartment was adorable, the only problem was that if you turned on the heat at the same time as anything else (say, the stove or microwave) the power would turn off. That got a little old.
That night, Sarah's two friends from Sevilla arrived, Amy and Sofie. They were such fun girls! We had a lot of fun discovering all of the beauty of Barcelona.

Every night we'd all squish onto the couch to watch movies and eat popcorn or Spanish cookies.

All of the Gaudi houses were breathtaking. And the Sagrada Familia! It's not even finished, but it was Gaudi's greatest and final project. I checked out the audio guide and it was fascinating. The church is inspired by nature and every tiny detail has meaning. Gaudi wanted the Sagrada Familia to be "the church of harmonious light" and in my opinion he was more than successful.

Pictures do not suffice.

Gaudi House. Doesn't it seem like you're under water?

At every restaurant in barcelona, they have these fancy fresh OJ making machines. Oh my, sooo good. Also, the hot chocolate is sinfully thick. It's even better when you buy churros to dip into it. Heaven.
Spain's eating schedule is totally bizarre, they eat breakfast at the normal hour, but lunch not til 2 or 3 and dinner not til 10 or 11. I was expecting Spain to be more like France (no idea why, silly me) but the fashion is different and the people are much more mediterannean looking, and not as skinny.
I'm glad I got to go but was completely content to return to France and be able to express myself again. I don't think I've experienced anything stranger than being in a country where you don't speak the language. It's an interesting sensation, one that I'm not convinced I like.
We had a bit of an adventure getting back to Lyon. From the train station in barcelona, you can take a 3 euro train to the airport. Super simple, right? Ha. At the platform we waited and eventually the train came so we got on. As the doors were closing, we looked out the window and saw a lot of people still waiting. We looked at each other in panic and tapped the guy sitting in front of us on the shoulder. Neither of us speak Spanish so all we could do was point and say "aeroport?" he shook his head no and with gestures explained to us that the next stop was about 20 minutes away. ZUT ALORS. When the ticket checker arrived, I told him we had taken the wrong train and he proceeded to explain something to me in rapid fire Spanish. Did I not make it clear that I do not speak a work of your language, senor? The next stop ended up being not 20, but 40 minutes away. ARGH. We were sure that we'd miss our flight. We got to the next station and luckily the lady at the welcome desk spoke English. She told us we could take a train back but that it would take 1.5 hours. Or we could take a taxi and arrive at the airport in 35 minutes, but it would cost 100 euros. We went with the taxi as 50 euros each is cheaper than new plane tickets. BUT UGH. We were both so tired and disapointed and just wanted to be home. We still almost didn't make it, but luckily our flight was a little bit late. WHEW. I didn't even care about the fifty euros any more, I was just glad to be headed back to France.