Spicysaltybittersweetness...: Barcelona

I had booked an apartment on Passeig de San Joan, near Gracia, and it took us 2 trains to get there. From the airport we hopped on the train to Sants station, the main train station in Barcelona, then the Metro L5 Blue line towards Vall D'Hebrón until Verdaguer, which was the 4th stop. We get off and walk to the corner of Provença and Passeig de San Joan but can't seem to find the apartment building. At night, everything looks the same, especially in a strange city. We ended up calling Ines, one of our hosts. She came out and collected us. Ines and her boyfriend, Guillerme rent out rooms in their flat. On airbnb.com, the apartment was listed as being on the 4th floor. We climbed up 107 steps with our 20 kilogram backpacks before we made it up to the flat.

Exhausted, sweaty, and gross from the 12 hour flight and 2.35 hours layover in Dusseldörf, we manage to muster up enough energy to walk downstairs and look for something to eat. (Dusseldörf airport is one of the coolest aiports I've ever seen, by the way.) We managed to find a restaurant that was open and gobbled up paella, pan catalan, and croquettes. The waiter told me they were "croquetes" not croquettes.

We spent July 11 through 18th in Barcelona, and got to know the city pretty well even though we slept a shitton, like hibernating bears!

We must've slept forever, I know for a fact that we wasted at least 2.5 days to sleeping while we were in Barcelona. It took us a while, but we somehow managed to get around the city, mostly on foot, sometimes by taxi or metro. We eventually wisened up and rode the metro more often because taxis are pretty costly, as are meals.I've ever seen. There wasn't much in the way of Asian cuisine, just crappy chinese food. I squealed like a little girl in a candy shop the day I saw an udon shop. I remember eating a lot of bocadillos (sandwiches), and we did have really yummy Thai food at a place called Thai Gracia.

Our second night in Barcelona, after wandering around in Las Ramblas, we found ourselves in front of a bar called Kulas. There was a young, really tan Asian lookin boy in a Hawaiian print shirt that was unbuttoning. What the drew our attention was the neon green headband he was wearing, as well as a matching neon green fanny pack. Looked like someone worked out all the time... We started chatting, and out came a thick southern Californian accent. Alex was born and raised in Orange County, California and had moved to Barcelona for school or something like that. He said his father was helping him out financially and whatnot but he was working part tome as a greeter at Kulas.

We asked him where we should go dancing, and he mentioned City Hall. It was a Thursday night, 'Club 4'. Mondays were 'Fuck & Rock', Tuesdays were 'Wild Tuesday', Wednesdays were 'Pigs and Diamonds', Fridays were 'Exa Club', Saturdays were 'Pure City Nites', and Sundays were 'The Black Room.' I had time to read the marquee over and over because we were in line for quite a while, and we had gotten there around midnight when the club wasn't even packed yet! Everyone was dressed pretty casual, and we were in flip flops haha.

We finally made it to the ticket window, cover was €15, about $20. It wasn't super packed when we got to the dance floor, and there was still plenty of room to dance. Apparently Molly is very popular in Barcelona because we found some almost immediately. It looked different from the MDMA in California, it was in chunks versus the usual pulverized crystals found in Los Angeles. I found it strange that it's customary to just let the bitter crystals dissolve in your mouth?! I only ate a little bit, and boy was it gnarly tasting! A short while later, I was rolling balls! DJ Dubfire was spinning and then the room filled up rapidly. I heard DJ Dubfire is from Seattle. Amazing DJ...

We danced on and off and wandered to the chill out room downstairs, which was more lounge-y with more toned down beats and Kiani started chatting with a boy. I went to the restroom and came back and sat down next to a boy in a plaid shirt and we started chatting. Turns out Kiani's boy, Alex, was friends with Jamie, the boy i was talking to. Jamie had a really thick Scottish accent, and I had a hard time deciphering what he was saying.

Between the thumping music and me being fucked up, I could barely make out a word of what he was saying. Speaking of making out, I guess he and I made out excessively haha. We all went outside to smoke at some point and the bouncer said we couldn't re-enter, that the club was shutting down anyway...we wandered the streets together. Alex said there was an afterhours somewhere, that a bus would take us to the undisclosed location. We escaped and finally settled on sitting down in a Plaza, I think it was called Plaza de Catalunya, and made friends with a few kiddos who were sitting there before us.

The sun started poking it's head, and Kiani, Jamie, Alex, and I all made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, only there weren't any! We finally came across a small cafe and I asked the owner,"Puedo usar el baño?" He responded, "Si." Alex went to a stall, and Kiani went into the next one. Alex went and waited outside for us. I sat on the bowl, and was mid-trickle, when Kiani said, "Amy! I can't open the door!" I was coming down off the E, and my head was a bit fuzzy, and it was as hot as an oven in that bathroom! We banged on the door and heard 3 men trying to bust the lock.

I think we were in there for a good 30 minutes and even took funny pics...the door finally opened after much proddig and prying, and the boys were so fucked up they barely noticed we were gone. We walked a bit further with Alex and Jamie, and said we should go to bed, so they hopped in their cab and we hopped in another back to our flat.

The second time we got locked into a small room was at an atm right by our flat. It was around 9:30 pm and we were on our way to dinner, but Kiani needed to get some cash. La Caixa was the name of the bank, and the atms looked like little glass rooms. I was smoking a cig right before we walked up to the atm and had only taken a few drags, and left it on a ledge nearby because Kiani couldn't get her card to go in the machine. I went inside to help her insert her card and went back to open the door to smoke the rest of my cig. The door wouldn't open! We were locked in again!

An older lady walked by and we banged on the glass. She stopped and fiddled with the door, to no avail. A young mulatto lookin guy walked by and tried to help us too. Nothing worked. We finally called '112', Spain's equivalent of '911'. The man on the other end asked for our location and said help was on it's way. 6 Catalan firemen showed up, along with 2 police officers. Yum! The stupid glass door had a self-locking mechanism and they guided us through on how to open it. about 30 seconds later, we were free.

The firemen said people lock themselves into that ATM all the time and not to feel bad. The cutest fireman asked us to write our names down on a piece of paper and asked where we were from. We thanked them profusely and hoped thu would add us on facebook.

The apartment we were renting near Gracia was kind of like a grown up version of a hostel. Guillermo and Ines rent out 2 bedrooms in their flat and the second round of flatmates are a gay couple from New York. Shane is a pharmacology student and is backpacking Spain for the summer. I don't really recall the boyfriend's name, he was really quiet and didn't seem to have much of a personality. Shane heard that Kiani and I were headed to Figueres, to the Salvador Dali museum and decided he wanted to come with, but his boyfriend stayed at the flat.

We got to Sants Station and saw that the bus to Figueres was sold out. The price for a one way bus ride to Girona, was €20; Girona is about 30 minutes from Figueres so we'd have to transfer to another bus and whatnot. Our other option was to rent a car. We walked across the street to Hertz and an economy rental was €88, split 3 ways was cheaper than the round trip bus fare. Well that was a no brainer!

The drive from Barcelona to Figueres is roughly 150 kilometers. Hertz had given us a dark green Mini Cooper, and it drove like a dream. Needless to say, we arrived in Figueres in no time at all.
Figueres is a teeny town, and the main attraction is the Dali museum. There was a long line of people that waved around 2 buildings and through the courtyard to enter the museum. I could've spent the rest of my life on the museum. Kiani and Shane were both done admiring the art before I was, and I met them outside. We stopped for snacks at a cafe by the museum, and drove on to Cadaques, which was about 39 kilometers from Figueres.

Shane navigated the whole time, thank God, because the roads were confusing as fuck, with millions of roundabouts. The roads started narrowing and spiraling as we approached our destination. We did a pitstop at a tiny stretch of beach, El Port De La Selva, where the locals are bathing in the ocean. We arrive in Cadaques and the streets are swarming with people on foot, motorcycles, or bicycles. The road to the residential area is basically a teeny tiny one way lane and i'm wondering where the heck to park the car! We circle for a bit, up and down the rolling hills, and spot another Mini Cooper backing up. It had been parked on a curb, on an incline. As soon as it's pulled away, I quickly pull in. If everyone else is making their own parking spot, so can I!

Cadaques is breathtaking, with sparkling, deep sapphire blue water lined with white houses. The white houses all have blue shutters. Wow.

I later found out that Salvador Dali spent time in Cadaques, as a child, and then later had a vacation home in Port Lligat.