Leaving Madrid, I head for Barcelona. Barcelona was one of my 'must see' cities I had planned to see prior to leaving and what i saw didn't disappoint. Unfortunately, however I was unable to see all Barcelona had to offer due to injury.
The hostel I'm staying at is a Hostel One hostel, the same as the Hostel One I stayed at in Prague, I really like the hostel in Prague and this one has the same feel to it.
My first full day I venture into central Barcelona and take a walk down Las Rambla, an open market to stretches for about a kilometer. The place is very crowded and I keep a had on my wallet. Las Rambla ends near the waterfront and I find an aquarium, since I can't remember the last time I went to an aquarium I pay the hefty 20 euro entry and check it out. It was pretty good, maybe not 20 euros good, but decent. Afterwards, I see the historical museum but after it took me 20 minutes to find the entrance I couldn't be bothered going in anymore.
I head for the beaches to see what it's like, as I plan to spend a little bit of time eliminating my horrendous tan lines. When I arrived the guy at the hostel reception circled five beaches, he then pointed out two that were nude beaches. By the end of introduction to Barcelona 101 the map was so covered in circles and lines I couldn't remember which ones he pointed out. I played it safe and walked the beach that had the night clubs and casino in front if it.
That night several other backpackers and I hit the Barcelona night life, which is surprisingly good for a Tuesday night.
The next day, after getting out of bed at about lunch time I head to the beach. I only plan to stay a couple of hours to colour the white pasty chest and back something a little closer to what the rest of my body looks like now. I grab a book from the book exchange, as I didn't want to take my tablet, Hunger Games: Mockingjay, I haven't read the first one or seen the movie, but it's better that reading the Great Gatsby in German.
The beach itself is okay, the sand seems dirty, I've been told its because they import sand from Egypt, I'm not sure how true that is. I find a chair (that I end up paying six euro for, still not sure if that guy was legit or not, but he wouldn't go away) and setup. I don't think many women at Barcelona beaches realise their bikini's come with a top half, looks like I didn't have to bring a book after all.
Well, it turns out that Hunger Games is actually pretty good,. Nine chapters, coupled with the view means my two hour visit turned into four hours. For those of you who haven't seen the sun recently, and I know a few of you haven't, four hours in the sun on unprotected untanned skin fucks your shit up.
• 6 PM wednesday, by the time I got back I was red, really red. My chest, shoulders and thighs got it the worst. The parts already tanned weren't affected.
• 9 PM, I was on fire.
• 11:00 AM Thursday, I was still on fire, but my right shoulder had started to bubble. In an effort to not let it deter me I have a cold shower, put my clothes on very slowly and go to the contemporary art museum, slowly.
• 1:00 PM, I remember why I hate the majority of contemporary art.
• 3:00 PM, I get back to the hostel and realise my shirt has ruptured the worst of the blisters, I now look the victim of an acid attack.
• 4:30, I've cleaned away the loose skin from the blisters and now just look like a burn victim.
• 6:00 PM - 2 beers, I went to the local chemist and requested some after sun lotion and some bandages to stop my shoulder leaking all over my shirts. The girl speaks poor English so I give her a peak at the abomination that is my right shoulder, she get me what I want and suggests I go to the emergency room, I ignore her and take my supplies back to the hostel.
• 7:00 PM - 3 beers, I realise I have no idea how to bandage my shoulder using only my left hand.
• 9:00 PM - 5 beers, the bandage has come undone three times. Forth times a charm and it stays on for the rest of the night,
• 11:00 AM Friday, the burning has stopped, so has the leaking, it only hurts to do almost anything. I consider going to the Sarata Familia.
• 1:00 PM, I make it as far as the McDonalds at Plaza Catalunya, as I hadn't had breakfast yet. My thighs ache because the shorts rub up against them and my chest hurts because I store my camera under my shirt, I give up and go home, get more beers.
• 9:00 PM, the majority of the pain has subsided, except the thighs, I realise this is because I've been neglecting them when it comes to applying that after sun lotion.
• 6:00 AM Saturday, don't feel to bad, still hurts but it's tolerable. I have to fly to Ibiza today.
• 6:30 AM, I put on my nearly 15 kg back pack and immediately wished I hadn't. I realise I'd missed the top of my shoulders with the after sun lotion too.
• 7:00 AM, I had decided to take public transport to the airport, but after 20 minutes with the pack on my back I gave up and hailed a taxi.
• 7:01 AM, I pull off my pack to put it in the taxi, it slips down my right shoulder taking all the skin with it. I'm on fire again.
• 7:20 AM, at the airport, find another chemist and show her a pack of stick on bandages and ask if she has anything bigger. Her English isn't great either, so I introduce her to my shoulder. She come out with some big ass bandages and some cream.
• 7:40, both the cream and the bandages work wonders after spending 20 minutes applying both, it's a shame the cream is thick and green, otherwise I would have covered myself with it. Getting through security covered in green shit would have proved a challenge.
I'm I'm Ibiza now, and while I haven't see much it definitely looks interesting. I've decided to head back to Barcelona afterwards to do all the stuff I missed due to my pain and suffering, sort of a do-over I guess..
