Barcelona

When I packed for Barcelona I was anticipating a nice three-day weekend away with the girls. It was going to be perfect, just a long weekend away and my first visit to Spain. I was actually even a little disappointed I would only be in Spain for three days, as though I was really depriving myself of the full Spanish experience.

Our flight times worked out that we would have three full days in the land of sun before getting home before noon on Sunday. I left at 2 AM Thursday morning (basically the middle of the night on Wednesday) and we arrived in Barcelona to a shining sun, a sketchy hospital, but high hopes for a great weekend. Then we got the message from Sarah, who was supposed to meet us later that day. Her flight (which was to leave only hours after ours) was cancelled due to something really weird. I don’t think we even understood what the cancellation was. Only later were we to learn that our lives would soon be ruled by Icelandic volcanic ash.

But we weren’t even going to start thinking about that until Friday night, so we still had a few days to become exposed to this Spanish city that would soon capture all of our hearts. Barcelona is such a vibrant city. Vibrant was the word that echoed in my head as I became acquainted with the small streets, the open markets, the beaches, and the hippie taste that permeates every aspect of the city. Even the colors just popped, from the glow of a bright orange sun to the fresh apples and bananas and pomegranates that bordered every store window to the golden sand to the Gaudi architecture. I was blown away by the free spirit of the people, as they just meandered through the town and you could tell time meant little. Even the idea of a siesta illustrates their lifestyle, and one that we would soon adopt. I ate fresh fruit, listened to live music, was drawn in by street performers, enjoyed sangria on the sandy beaches, and had the time of my life with seven beautiful women who I will always associate with my trip to Spain.


The first few days in Spain we decided it would be a good idea to indulge. Why not? It was one of our last weekends traveling and it was just us girls. So Friday night we partook in our self-proclaimed Booze Cruise. We signed up for an hour and half ride along the Barcelona coast, bought a few boxes (classy, right?) of sangria, got nice and dressed up and boarded our ferry. We were pleased to see we were not alone. We were amongst a 10th grade Spanish field trip to Barcelona. Hello, good times. We proceeded to indulge in our sangria and made great friends with the sixteen year olds, only one of whom spoke enough English to communicate. Apparently Kiyo’s and Taylor’s Spanish is very different than Catalan Spanish. And, apparently the drinking age in Spain is 18 not 16 so these kids should not have been allowed to drink our sangria. Overall, I don’t think I have laughed so hard in a long time. Amazing memories.

Then, to further our indulgence of a great weekend, we decided to take my friend’s advice and go on a bike tour of the city through Flat Tire Bike Tours. After a little bit of a rough time finding the meeting place, we took off on a great way to see Barcelon. They say riding a bike comes back to you really quickly. They (whoever they are) were right. I don’t think I’ve been on a bike in years, and it was so much fun. I think we all channeled our inner five-year-old selves and enjoyed biking up the hills and gliding down. Though, we did have to bike on busy car roads and through throngs of crowds. That was a little more of a challenge. However, through the tour we got to see all the sights of Barcelona! One of our favorites was the Parc de la Ciutadella and the Cascada Fountain, where we took a nice little photo shoot.
The tour included the Gaudi church, the Arc de Triomf, the pier, and the Olympic village. We also got to spend some time at the beach drinking sangria and enjoying the sunset. Also, during our tour we had a mishap when one family (who apparently had never learned to ride bikes) had the dad knock his daughter off. After a screaming fit from the 13 year old girl, the family decided to take her to the hospital. Later, our guides told us nothing was wrong with her except a “spoilt childhood.” After the tour our guides were kind enough to take us to the local bar, where we enjoyed an evening with the Barcelona locals. I know we’ll never forget Buddah or Pete, our gracious guides. So many laughs.

After a weekend of exciting things and beautiful weather, we heard that our flight on Sunday was cancelled. Thus began a frantic search for forms of transportation. Days later we had:

1. Called our dean, who suggested we get a bus to come get us for 400 euro a person. No thanks.
2. Had our flight rescheduled to Monday.
3. Had our Monday flight rescheduled to Wednesday.
4. Had our Wednesday flight rescheduled to never.
5. Attempted to get train tickets, that were sold out.
6. Told there were no rental cars in Barcelona left.
7. There were no rental cars in Spain that we could take over the border.
8. There were no flights anywhere.
9. Attempted to bribe other MUDEC students to come pick us up.
10. Decided to rent segways and ride them to Luxembourg.
11. Realized segways would die before they got to France.
12. Discussed going back to the bike tour place to see if they would drive us home.
13. Finally bought a 14 hour bus ride ticket to Paris.
14. Tried to buy train tickets from Paris to Luxembourg.
15. Some of us bought flights for Friday.
16. Found out our flight on Thursday was a go ahead.
17. Got home from Barcelona over a week after we had left.
18. Wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.


During this time of rapid search for ways of getting home, we decided to embrace our time in Barcelona. We enjoyed too much shopping on Las Ramblas, fresh fruit from the main market, too much sun bathing and sangria, a trip to the beautiful Park Guell (where we saw street vendors run from the cops), and a day trip to a small beach town called Stiges.

Overall, although we ended up being stuck in Barcelona and seeing our bank accounts rapidly decreasing and our teachers’ emails getting less sympathetic after a week of missing class, I have to say it was one of the funniest and best things that has happened to me. Hey, you’re only young once, and, hopefully, only stuck in Barcelona once.