Barcelona: It's not you, it's me

I loved Barcelona. I tried paella and cava for the first time, which is stronger than you would think or maybe I'm just a "very cheap date," like Sarah said.

The palm trees reminded me of LA.



I saw what I had to see. As expected, Gaudi blew me away.

I also had an awesome partner in crime tour guide who thought it would be a good idea to search for a movie theater in the middle of nowhere just so we could watch "New Moon" in English. After an hour of wandering around and asking for directions, we found it and laughed throughout the entire thing, earning the silent wrath of everyone around us. (Glittery vampires are funny. So is crap acting. End of story.)

The rooftop of Casa Batlló, my favorite Gaudi building.

Looking out to Passeig de Gràcia during the audio tour.

I haven't finished uploading all my pictures yet but here are a few.

I bet you if I had a Mini, I would never miss a flight.

I spent my last few hours in Barcelona at this place. It's in Barri Gòtic, the city's Gothic quarter (think dark, narrow and winding streets). Order the chai tea with Baileys. You'll thank me later.

We all need happy pills, every now and then.

I bought this Banksy tote bag in a store near Park Güell. CINCO EUROS, PEOPLE. I love me some cheap Banksy. I used it to carry all the stuff that didn't fit in my bag.

....

So Barcelona was great and I had a lot of fun BUT...

There's always a but.

I've spent the last couple of days formulating an opinion about Barcelona and I've come to the conclusion that it is a beautiful cosmopolitan city I could never live in.

Queeeeeee, you say? Estas loca! Maybe. But venturing up north was really eye-opening, in many ways. It made me realize just how traditional Madrid really is. I like traditional.

You know what else I like? I like it when waiters at restaurants reply to me in Spanish when I order in Spanish. (I'm looking at you, waiter at Les Quinze Nits who replied in English to my Spanish, repeatedly. SERIOUSLY? IS MY SPANISH NOT SPANISH ENOUGH FOR YOU? OR IS IT BECAUSE I DON'T SPEAK CATALAN? AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE KITCHEN CLOSES IN FIVE MINUTES SO WE HAVE TO ORDER NOW?)

Ahem, moving on.

There were moments when riding the metro that I felt like I had stepped into a dark, post-apocalyptic world. It didn't feel like I was in Spain.

As much as I loved it, I kept glancing at my watch on Sunday night. I was aching to get back to Madrid. When I was roused by the pilot who said we would be landing in 10 minutes, I was so happy. I was going home, to the non-scary metro!



The following day, I was waiting for the train home when a woman approached me. I took out my ear buds. She was lost and needed to get to Diego de Leon (Line 6). I told her how to get there from Line 1. As she walked away, I wondered why -- out of all the other people standing on the platform, not listening to music -- she asked me for directions.



I think it's starting to happen. I'm being mistaken for a Madrileña.

You had to be there

In a dark room in Vilafranca del Penedès. It is 1 a.m.

Stephanie: I'm cold.
Raisa: [Mumbles, shuffles out of bed and turns on the lights]

A minute passes.

Raisa appears at the foot of Stephanie's bed, struggling to unfold a thick Jacquard- woven fabric.

Stephanie: [squinting] That's a...curtain.

[There is a pause]

Raisa: [Blinks a couple of times]

[Uproarious laughter]

END SCENE.

Planes, trains and Gaudi

I missed my flight to Barcelona yesterday. It wasn't anyone's fault, really. I was on time but the metro ran late that morning. As it turns out, five minutes can make a huge difference. I arrived at the gate as the plane was pulling away.

It happens.

Out of the handful of people who also missed the 7 a.m. flight, I was the only one who didn't get hysterical or raise her voice. I think I just sighed, freaked out for a second and then asked, "When's the next flight?"

Being calm and polite worked wonders on the Vueling employees. They asked me where I was from ("your last name is SO Spanish!") and gave me tips on how to get to the airport for a morning flight (take a taxi). One of them even wrote my boarding pass, by hand.

While I waited for my flight, I took some pictures of Terminal 4 at Barajas.





As soon as I got there (30-minute flight!), Raya took me to the 9th floor of El Corte Ingles for lunch and the breathtaking panoramic view of the city.




Even with most of the morning lost, I saw Sagrada Familia, Casa Milà, Plaza Catalunya, Plaza España (all the pretty fountains!) and Casa Batlló.

Riding the lift was the best part.



Today? Park Güell and Las Ramblas.

De viaje: Barcelona

I'm spending the weekend in Barcelona. I haven't left Madrid since I got here so it will be nice to be a tourist again. I'm really looking forward to Gaudi, Las Ramblas, paella and the Mediterranean. I don't care how cold it is, I'm going in for a swim.

I'm also excited to see Raya! One of my oldest friends (4th grade, people!), she's the happiest, most sane person I know who gives me giggle fits. The kind where I can't breathe and someone better hold me or else I'M GOING DOWN.

I have 72 hours to see as much as I can. There won't be much sleeping but that's what caffeine is for, right?

p.s. It's going to be hard to walk around the city without at least humming this tune.

(photo via Movie of the Week)

Shut up, Stephanie

Moving to Madrid will probably be the most awesome thing to happen to me and yet, I've started to freak out. I'm fine and completely excited one minute, even watching "On The Road Again" and the next, I'm making lists, crunching numbers and contemplating the magnitude of what it means to move to another country.

And that's when I consider calling it off.

But then a voice inside my head says, "YOU'D BE INSANE IF YOU DID, MISSY." Sometimes, this voice has a southern twang to it. Other times, it sounds like Anthony Bourdain, with slightly more colorful language (Yes, there are voices implicated. You should be just as concerned as I am). So I've started reminding myself of all the great things that await in Spain, because there are many.

Here are a few:

1. Siestas. OF COURSE THIS IS AT THE TOP OF THE LIST. It's no secret that I love to sleep. But college (not to mention working two jobs and juggling a few internships in between) turned sleep into a rare luxury. Sometimes, I power napped in my car before class. Sad, isn't it? (I should add here that I graduated with honors, so the eye bags were worth it). But you see, in Spain, everything comes to a screeching halt for nap time. It's kind of a big deal. Businesses close because they WANT you to catch up on your beauty sleep. I don't want to let Spain down, so nap I will!

2. I can has paella? I'm really curious to try it. All I know is that it's a mixed rice dish that may or may not contain snails. I'll give the snails a try just as long as there aren't any traces of the Devil's food ONIONS.

3. Sangria. This needs no explanation.

4. Personal growth. Yeah, I know it sounds very self-helpish, but I need to be more self-reliant and independent. To me this means paying my own rent, catching trains, getting lost, homesickness, buying toothpaste, leaving the nest for one of my own and falling flat on my face. A good kick in the pants, just what every recent college graduate needs. It's all good.

5. Museums. Spain has quite a few of them, the most famous being The Prado, which has some Velázquezes, Goyas and Bosches. Also, admission is free if you're a student under the age of 25. And not too far from The Prado is the Museo Nacional de Arte Reina Sofia, which has Picasso's "Guernica." The art history geek in me will be very happy, methinks.

6. New amigos! When I land in Spain, I won't know a single person there. There will be no past history looming over my head, I won't be so and so's daughter, sister or friend. It will be just me and my suitcases. Nice to meet you too.

7. Barcelona. Besides the beaches, I'm really excited to learn more about Gaudi.

Casa Milà

8. Real Madrid games. Spanish soccer hooligans! Ronaldo! GOAAAAAAAL!

9. Visiting Malaga, where my great-grandfather was born. I probably have family still living there. But if I sought them out, it would be weird to show up on their doorstep, right? ("HOLA! I COME FROM AMERICA!") I just like the idea of coming full circle somehow.

But what am I looking forward to the most?

10. Parque del Buen Retiro ("The Good Retreat")

If I'm not working, I will surely be found here, taking a nap, reading, kite-flying, people-watching, painting, writing, daydreaming and exploring the less frequented parts of the park.

This will be my happy place.



The Spanish royals used to go to the park for Christmas and Easter during the 16th century. Later, King Philip III decided to build the Royal Gardens there.

And as if the park wasn't beautiful enough, there's also a Crystal Palace.


I half expect to bump into a unicorn.