Barcelona is like that really poplular guy in high school that everyone loves and is always taking about. He is beautiful, lively, athletic and for the most part, is pretty nice to everyone. But he knows that he´ll never really have to try too hard because just being him is enough. You tell yourself you don´t care if he doesn´t pay you much notice, but nonetheless you want his affirmation. And if for some reason he just doesn´t like you, or worse, is indifferent towards you it is natural to feel a twinge of resentment because to him you are invisible. And so goes our relationship with the beautiful Barcelona. And perhaps that is the reason that we didn´t get on with Barcelona in the way everyone said we would. I wasn´t impressed with Barcelona´s indifference caused by its saturation in tourists, travelers and all the rest who want a part of the European city dubed "Mr. Popular". I just couldn´t break through its facade. Which is sad, in ways, because there is much underneath, I am sure.
It is always immensly difficult to leave a beautiful campsite, where days are directed by the light and body rythems fall into place naturally. We left all this for Barcelona and the city was a shock; any big city would have been at this point. City noises, city fashion, city smells and the added bonus that Spaniards apparently have a facicnation for setting off bomb-like noise makers on just about every corner. I was in a constant state of alert. For the first time on this trip Couchsurfing failed us in Barcelona. The hosts there are completely overwhelmed, inindated with requests from those wanting a part in the city. Their responses to our emails were, if there at all, negatives expressed with exhaustion. So we were suprised when we got a yes even if that was all that was in the message.
It may have been our fault or a result of bad communication all around but our host failed to pick up the phone when we arrived in Barcelona, leaving us momentarily stranded. We thought this might happen so we had a second plan which involved busing it out to a campsite nearly an hour outside the city; the camp was sandwiched between a highway and an unappetizing beach. Unappetizing after the perfection that was our campsite in Torre de la Mora. We explored the city by day, returning to our campsite before the last bus at 10pm. Much of the three days were spent in parks as it was, for the first time this trip, too hot during the middle of the day to do much walking.
Barcelona was the city of first for us in many ways. First all nighter spent between parks, the beach, in a bus station, and on the floor of Girona aiport before our early morning flight. First offer of hard drugs in a public place (we declined), first conversation with a pair of friends from Gambia, the first place to find a burrito in Europe, and the first real taste of lonliness while traveling. But the floor was surprising comfortable at the airport, well mas o menos.
-Jess
Alys´ take:
(We always read each other´s posts for accuracy and spell check, and lately I´ve wanted to add something!)
Something I think Jess and I both struggled with in Barcelona is feeling uncool for not adoring the city. I clearly remember walking through the narrow streets peeking in little shops and cafe, which are really very unique and fun to explore, and feeling totally embarrassed that I wasn´t enjoying it. How could I not enjoy this? Everybody said we would love Barcelona! People we admire and respect want to live there and visit every chance they get. So, I kept my distaste to myself. Finally, after a couple days of self-discovery (comes naturally when you travel because there is nothing pressing to think about) I realized that I am mature enough to admit that I don´t like Barcelona because it doesn´t like me. If it had paid more attention to me and gotten to know me, I´m sure I would love it. But, it ignored me and my feelings were, quite simply, hurt. I told Jess how I felt (in an outburst of frustration, I´m sure) and was surprised to find out she felt the EXACT SAME WAY! We spent our final day letting ourselves feel mad at the city. Now, looking back, there were things that were really cool about Barcelona. I loved the Picasso museum (another first - we never pay for that stuff usually), had a great time at an improtu African drum circle, and saw the coolest moon-rise on the beach. And, I had an excellent travel partner who kept my lonliness at a minimum and participated in the wallowing of emotions with me. Next time, I´ll go to Madrid instead.
-Alys
