Barcelona

Last night, after twelve hours of traveling, a cab, a plane, a bus, a train, a bus and two more trains, I found myself looking out the window, watching the sunset, being exhausted and starving and covered in a thin layer of the filth you only find in airports and train stations. But above all else, I was happy.

I'm desperately out of money, I'm tired of all my clothes, and I could really use a normal sized cup of coffee. However, I spent approximately 36 hours in Barcelona and again, like every weekend, it made it all worth it.

We arrived at 1am on Friday night and initially I was nervous to walk to my hostel. I quickly realized that 1am for people in Barcelona is like 2pm anywhere else. People were walking to bars, doing their grocery shopping, hanging out in parks and enjoying a nice meal outside. I felt the overwhelming urge to just run up to everyone and ask them if they knew what time it was. We safely walked to our hostel and spent a few hours walking along the beach crashing in our unfortunately gross hostel beds.

That day, we woke up and walked around a little bit before eventually being pulled back to the sand. Winter in Europe has featured a lot of grey rain, so it was pretty tempting to take advantage of this beautiful day on the sea. We soon ventured out again to meet up with a girl who lived in Barcelona and was an exchange student at my roommate Maddie's house in high school. She showed us around a little bit and we all got lunch. After seeing the Gaudi houses and the Sagrada Familia, we headed back to the beach one more time to enjoy a "siesta".

Unfortunately, Parc Guell requires reservations after some tourist supposedly cut the head off the salamander and took it home in his suitcase, and by the time we figured this out, they were all booked. I was a little disappointed by how expensive all the tourist sites were, and we didn't get to see many.

After our siesta, we met up with other students Maddie met in the exchange program. They showed us around all the old neighborhoods and took us to get drinks. We sat outside on a patio and drank cheap sangria and discussed their thoughts on America and our thoughts on Europe. It was really insightful to hear what they found interesting about America. My favorite thing about traveling is when you end up having time to sit down and talk with locals or with travelers from other countries. I feel like I am getting the most authentic experience through people. You can see the sights and read the books, but people tell you the most.

In Barcelona, people don't go out to clubs until almost 2am. At 11pm, we were all yawning and struggling to stay awake. But we powered through and made it to the club. We walked home along the beach around 6am and immediately packed and headed to the airport. "Tired" didn't even begin to describe how I felt on Sunday.

I desperately wish I could have had more time in this beautiful city, but I feel that way every time I go somewhere. The only way I console myself is by promising that I'll come back, and soon. You would really think that the endless train rides, headache ensuing ticket purchasing, and schedule making would grow old. And it sort of does, but it's so incredibly overshadowed by the good parts. When you spend the only remaining four euro you had for lunch on a bus ticket that turns out to be for a bus that doesn't even run on Sundays and you stand on the bus stop and cry a little, you just think of the time about 24 hours ago when you were listening to the gentle lap of the Mediterranean against the sand with some of the finest humans this planet has to offer.

I'm always tired, I'm always hungry, and I'm always ready for more. The late trains and the cancelled flights and the shocking 40 euro taxis don't scare me anymore. Because as disgusting as a hostel is, as long as a bus ride is, as shredded as my converse become, it's all worth it.

This weekend I'm taking some time to appreciate the country I'm living in. It took until April but I'm going to get acquainted with the Luxembourg countryside and get some sleep, so that when I'm jetting off to London the following weekend, I remember all the things I just wrote about.