Taking a night train into Barcelona helped save some money. Which was good, because the train itself was 138 Euros. Damn, that one hurt.
Rain was soaking Paris as I waited in the station and rode out into the night. It was a perfect time to be traveling, as the evening would have been a waste sitting in a room watching rain drops fly by. I was hesitant to say goodbye to that great city, but I would see her again. And excitement filled me with the thoughts of seeing Jeremy and Bridget in Barcelona.
On the train - 6 beds in a coach. A young Frenchman, a Frenchwoman and her daughter were sharing my coach with me. The sleep wasn't bad, but the women had brought cats with them. Cats. And they meowed like there was no tomorrow. A full night's rest I did not get. But once I was in Barcelona, the life and passion of the city infiltrated me and I was immediately ready to take it on.
I found my way to the meeting spot for the hostel I had booked the night before. With about an hour to waste until I could check in, I found a Dunkin' Donuts. Thank God for American companies in foreign countries. I hadn't eaten all day and it was already pushing 4 p.m. so those 2 donuts were about the best thing my mouth had ever tasted.
Finally the check-in person from the hostel got there and rounded about 6-8 of us up to head to our rooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone swipe my small bag off of the concrete sidewalk. The bag with my passport in it. And my credit cards. Shit.
But when I looked up to catch a glimpse of the prick who was stealing my stuff - it was Jeremy. He and Bridget had been out shopping, knowing I would be where I was because they had checked into the same hostel just a day ago. A sigh of relief came out and I hugged the 2 of them. Happy to see some familiar faces and converse in English, we immediately made plans for the night.
After settling in my place and showering, I was off to meet the 2 of them and kick off the evening. Well, it took all of 2 seconds after I walked thru the door of their room to be stopped in my tracks. One of their roommates - a girl from America - stunned me. Average height, dark hair and mysterious eyes. Great body. Almost a 7/8ths Jennifer Garner. Everybody was pregaming for the upcoming evening, including her. However, I am notoriously shy around girls and just couldn't muster up any courage to talk to her before she and her 2 friends were off. I kicked myself.
Then I drank some more.
Take all the stories you've ever heard about clubs in Europe. Put them together. That's where we spent our night. The place literally backed up to the sandy beach of Barcelona. Long, flowing curtains. Areas of flat, bed-like cushions. Hypnotic techno-beats. Crazy lighting. Amazing women.
I loved it.
The following day brought sight-seeing and shopping. La Sagrada Familia. Park Guell. Zara. H&M.
Barcelona is a thriving city that never sleeps. Las Ramblas is like a human being's jugular - cutting right thru the center of the thing, carrying that which is vital to the rest of the city. Street performers. Animals for sale. Souvenirs. Food. Everything.
Another night had gone by. A nice dinner with Jeremy and Bridget. I was a 3rd wheel. Tomorrow, they would be on their way to San Sebastian. And me? I had not a clue. Originally the plan was to skip across the French Riviera and find my lost love - Italy. But they were going to be in Granada, where Jeremy studied for a semester in college, in a few days. Torn, I made a decision. A decision that would soon prove to be quite instrumental in the way the rest of my travels would play out.
Instead of going to Marseilles and Nice and St. Tropez - I was going to Valencia? Valencia had never entered my mind until that day. But it was about half-way between Barcelona and Granada. Along the Mediterranean coast. It seemed like a good stopping point for a day or two.
Little did I know.
Rain was soaking Paris as I waited in the station and rode out into the night. It was a perfect time to be traveling, as the evening would have been a waste sitting in a room watching rain drops fly by. I was hesitant to say goodbye to that great city, but I would see her again. And excitement filled me with the thoughts of seeing Jeremy and Bridget in Barcelona.
On the train - 6 beds in a coach. A young Frenchman, a Frenchwoman and her daughter were sharing my coach with me. The sleep wasn't bad, but the women had brought cats with them. Cats. And they meowed like there was no tomorrow. A full night's rest I did not get. But once I was in Barcelona, the life and passion of the city infiltrated me and I was immediately ready to take it on.
I found my way to the meeting spot for the hostel I had booked the night before. With about an hour to waste until I could check in, I found a Dunkin' Donuts. Thank God for American companies in foreign countries. I hadn't eaten all day and it was already pushing 4 p.m. so those 2 donuts were about the best thing my mouth had ever tasted.
Finally the check-in person from the hostel got there and rounded about 6-8 of us up to head to our rooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone swipe my small bag off of the concrete sidewalk. The bag with my passport in it. And my credit cards. Shit.
But when I looked up to catch a glimpse of the prick who was stealing my stuff - it was Jeremy. He and Bridget had been out shopping, knowing I would be where I was because they had checked into the same hostel just a day ago. A sigh of relief came out and I hugged the 2 of them. Happy to see some familiar faces and converse in English, we immediately made plans for the night.
After settling in my place and showering, I was off to meet the 2 of them and kick off the evening. Well, it took all of 2 seconds after I walked thru the door of their room to be stopped in my tracks. One of their roommates - a girl from America - stunned me. Average height, dark hair and mysterious eyes. Great body. Almost a 7/8ths Jennifer Garner. Everybody was pregaming for the upcoming evening, including her. However, I am notoriously shy around girls and just couldn't muster up any courage to talk to her before she and her 2 friends were off. I kicked myself.
Then I drank some more.
Take all the stories you've ever heard about clubs in Europe. Put them together. That's where we spent our night. The place literally backed up to the sandy beach of Barcelona. Long, flowing curtains. Areas of flat, bed-like cushions. Hypnotic techno-beats. Crazy lighting. Amazing women.
I loved it.
The following day brought sight-seeing and shopping. La Sagrada Familia. Park Guell. Zara. H&M.
Barcelona is a thriving city that never sleeps. Las Ramblas is like a human being's jugular - cutting right thru the center of the thing, carrying that which is vital to the rest of the city. Street performers. Animals for sale. Souvenirs. Food. Everything.
Another night had gone by. A nice dinner with Jeremy and Bridget. I was a 3rd wheel. Tomorrow, they would be on their way to San Sebastian. And me? I had not a clue. Originally the plan was to skip across the French Riviera and find my lost love - Italy. But they were going to be in Granada, where Jeremy studied for a semester in college, in a few days. Torn, I made a decision. A decision that would soon prove to be quite instrumental in the way the rest of my travels would play out.
Instead of going to Marseilles and Nice and St. Tropez - I was going to Valencia? Valencia had never entered my mind until that day. But it was about half-way between Barcelona and Granada. Along the Mediterranean coast. It seemed like a good stopping point for a day or two.
Little did I know.
1 comment:
hello? what happened next? been waiting for the sequel....
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