La Playa – La Última Vez 

We slept in and it was wonderful.  Today was the perfect day of relaxation to remember the trip by.  We packed in the morning to save a lot of hassle and chaos, and made our way to Nova Icaria for one last fun yet relaxing day at the beach.  While there, I made some conclusions:  1) I think the majority of the beach’s nudists are over sixty. 2) There is no reason whatsoever for a woman over sixty to take off her top unless she is showering in the privacy of her bathroom. And 3) Speedos will never be cool.  Especially not on old men with their old topless wives.  I guess it’s just a fact of life that I’ll never fully understand.

 

When we got home we washed the sand off and got ready for dinner – but not before we got caught up in the game.  Watching Federer and Roddick duke it out in the Wimbledon Men’s Final was probably the single most intense workout I’ve done this month.  We were very lucky not to have received a complaint about the noise, because by the time the match’s final set went into its twenty-ninth game (a set can be over in six and usually never exceeds thirteen at maximum), we were screaming and jumping and kicking the table when it took a turn for the worse and Federer finally won.  There went Sampras’ title.  But Federer is hard to dislike, so we were able to enjoy one last dish of Paella and gelato without a second thought of the game, and I don’t think I will lose much sleep tonight.  Speaking of sleep, I need to get some of that.  Our taxi arrives at 7:30 AM sharp to pick us up, and how awful would that be to miss our flight home because we overslept?  I will write one last entry when I get home; something interesting might happen on the plane.

 

Thanks to all who took time out of their busy lives to read my blog – I hope you learned a little about Spain in the process.  Me voy a dormir - ¡Adios!

Independencia Americana

Today was a very eventful day, but I can’t go into much detail at 2 o’clock in the morning!  This morning we woke up later than expected, which was devastating because we have unfortunately saved much of Barcelona’s sightseeing for our last weekend here.  Of the many things we planned, the only success was souvenir shopping.  We had planned on going back to the beach as well, followed by a cable car tour of the city to see it for our last time from the aerial perspective.   With a bit of changes in our plan, we ended up having a night of surprises.

 

While souvenir shopping on La Rambla, Mother and I enjoyed paella, gelato, the warm sun, and some Wimbledon Women’s Tennis finals in a smoky Irish pub.  Amazingly enough, after visiting every store and artists on La Rambla, its surrounding streets and its back allies, we managed to purchase small presents for almost every loved one we have ever known (the hardest part of souvenir shopping is deciding who to narrow the gift receivers down to).  I even met the real Edward Scissorhands! And as a note to all who read this: If traveling to the beautiful and diverting Barcelona, do not eat/drink at American:soda.  Think of overpriced times ten and you get American:soda.

 

When we got home that evening, we did all of our Internet research on Barclona’s Montjuïc funicular and cable car; we had planned on seeing the city from a new perspective that night, but we were not so lucky.  We took the funicular all the way up, only to realize that we missed the last cable car by eleven minutes.  “You can still take that bus up to the castle,” the guard with whom we were not very happy with suggested.  We wanted to ride the cable cars! But the bus would have to do.  We made it to the castle and it was beautiful. However by the time we got there it was already sunset, as our bus had to ride up and down the mountain three times to avoid some traffic jam.  At least the sunset was beautiful!  We took pictures outside the walls of the thirteenth-century fortress, and we captured the essence of the ships ad sea, the moon and sun, the group of drunk guys laughing and dangling one friend from the top of the castle – what a beauty the night turned out to be!  When we had taken pictures to our hearts’ content, we walked up to enter the magnificent stone stronghold.  Except the old man at the entrada slammed the door in our face and told us it had closed at 9:00 PM.  I looked at the time on my phone, confused.  It was 8:56.  Just our luck. 

 

Despite our poor timing and unfortunate run-ins with grumpy guards, it was a very memorable experience and although we couldn’t get inside the castle, I think we enjoyed it even more than the drunk men who did.

 

On our way back home, we stopped at Plaça Catalunya so I could meet and say goodbye to my friends one last time – they were throwing a Fourth of July party at Caroline and Natalie’s apartment and they wanted the American to be there.  I called Clara to ask for her address, and after she told me she said, “Would you like me to come get you?” 

“Nah,” I replied.  “I know my way from here.

“Ok, if you’re sure.  You’d better get here quick because I made nachos and guacamole just for you! Oh and Morgan,” she added. 

“Yeah?”

“Watch your bod,” she almost laughed

 

Less than three minutes later I found out what she meant.  Originally, I was going to visit my friends alone while my mother dearest chilled in La Rambla.  Bad plan.  I don’t know who was more worried – Mom about letting me leave or me about leaving her there.  (But seriously – bringing my mom to a party!) La Rambla by day is overpopulated by tourists and street venders and performers.  La Rambla by night is the place for locals and street venders/performers of a different kind.  Don’t accept any alcohol or illegal drug substance from the men, don’t even look at the women in heels and short dresses because they don’t care if you’re a guy or a girl – and keep your purse in front of you.  When we had almost decided to call it a night and go home, I got a call on my phone from Edmund, Clara’s German friend from the movie last night. “Morgan?”

“Yes?”

“This is Edmund, from the cinema.”  He spoke in Spanish

“Oh, hey.  Hey I’m kind of in the middle of trying to find out where I am, could I call you back?”

“Yeah, I know.  Where are you?  I know you told Clara you could make it here on your own but I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Oh… thank you,” I replied hesitantly, deciding what to do with Mom.

“Oh there you are, Morgan!” Great.  Too late. 

 

I explained to my mom in a matter of four seconds that she would be coming to a Fourth of July party tonight, knowing that if Edmund was willing to leave a party to make sure somebody he hardly knew didn’t walk alone, he wasn’t going to leave my mom in the street. 

 

Strangely enough, it all worked out and it turned out to be very fun!  We were extremely happy to have a male walking with us down the dark allies to Caroline’s apartment.  My mom really liked him as well as the rest of my friends, and they really liked her! Although we said we could only stay for a while they insisted that we had a drink and try their attempts at American food (they had made macaroni salad, nachos and guacamole – even corn on the cob) and they were waiting for the American approval.  By the end of the night, I met more really nice people that weren’t from school, and my mom liked my friends so much that she invited them to come live with us if they ever came to Texas.  This worked out perfectly because Caroline had already wanted to come to Texas and Clara was planning on going to the Grand Canyon and would love to visit Texas afterwards.  I exchanged facebooks/email addresses with new friends, hugged and kissed the old ones goodbye, and we were on our way again, and without Edmund this time (despite his attempts to protect us womenfolk once more, we couldn’t take him away from the party again).  We half sprinted home and made eye contact with no one until we were safely on our street again.  It is very late now, and we have finally made it to bed.  Tomorrow is our last full day and we must get some rest now.  ¡Hasta mañana!

 

The Birds de Alfred Hitchcock 

It is 2:30 AM and I’ve just gotten home; please accept my apologies for any typos. 

 

Today was my last day at school.  It turned out to be a little more sentimental than I expected.  Each of the students in both of my classes waited after class to hug/kiss me goodbye, wish me good luck in my travels and studies, and of course – exchange facebook names and emails.  It took a month for me to realize that I needed to start taking pictures of things other than monuments and historical sights.  I brought my camera and we had a great time with that, as we hardly got any schoolwork done.  Luckily, professor Romero walked by at the right moment, and I quickly grabbed his attention to take a quick class photo of Jordi’s class.  The more I think about it, I’m really going to miss them, and at least a picture will help me have something to remember them by.  In conversation class with Romero, I said goodbye to the two German girls that were fun to be around (and listen to when they spoke English), although I hadn’t gotten to know them all that well.  Andreas would be in my next class, along with Johanna (Zahap and Rafael were not present), but since I was leaving early and so was Andreas, and Johanna didn’t want to stay by herself, we all played hooky a bit early and went to the café next-door in celebration of our one-month accomplishment.  Before I made my way home, I stopped by the reception and picked up my “Certificate of Completion”, and I was out the door. When I got home, Mommy and I watched Andy Rodick beat Andy Murray (much to England’s dismay) and after much jumping and screaming and general commotion, decided that this Wimbledon final is going to be the best America has seen in a while – with three Americans out of four players in the finals (men’s and women’s), I think the demographics will show a lot more than just tennis fans tuning in to the Tennis Channel this weekend.

 

At 8:30 I arrived at Plaza España, where I had planned to meet Clara and Caroline earlier today.  You see, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, a big-screen movie is projected onto the side of the castle that sits atop the mountain called Montjuïc, and tonight’s showing was to be Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.  Along with the beautiful Canadian, Caroline, was her sister, Maddie (who is fluent in not only French, like Caroline, but Japanese as well!) The half-Asian sisters are constantly stopped by people who demand to know their ethnicity.  There were about five other friends of theirs with them, all girls from Maddie’s class that I wasn’t that familiar with.  Along with Clara were two hulking German guys, Edmund and Lukas, who are staying in the same residence as Clara, and apparently have served nicely as bodyguards and tour guides since Clara first arrived.  They were very polite, as well as trilingual and very knowledgeable in various subjects. The whole way up to the top of the small mountain was a lesson in Law and Economics from Edmund and lessons in Medicine and the works of Alfred Hitchcock from Lukas.  How wonderful!  They found me “interesting” (and I decided to take that as a compliment because I wasn’t sure what to make of it), and they admired my desire to study abroad while in high school – The U.SA. can thank me later for going around the world making a good name for our people.

 

When we reached the top as the movie was starting, we spread out our picnic blanket (yes, we had a picnic!) in the field and laid out our various dishes of bocadillas, Spanish ham, cherries, melon, grapes, Pringles, wine for the other women, and pineapple juice for us young folk.  Although everyone but I was old enough to drink, they were considerate of my being in their company and purchased an alternative drink, which I thought was very thoughtful.  It was one of those nights that you only see in movies, and I couldn’t believe that today was he start of my last weekend in Barcelona.  We laughed until I worked out my abs enough to burn all the calories of that Spanish ham, and I am almost certain that I won’t ever look at swooping birds the same again.  One of the most amusing sights I’ve seen so far in Barcelona had to be tonight when we got up to fold our blankets, and the macho, six-five Edmund jumped higher than the moon when a bird dove in to have a look at our crumbs. That made the hassle of getting up and down a mountain very worth it.  We all said our “one-last goodbye’s” and Clara, Edmund, Lukas, and I headed a towards to Green Metro Line and headed home.  I got off at the Diagonal, where my wonderful mommy was waiting up for me to make sure I made it home safely.  It is very late now; in fact, now that I have showered and gotten ready for bed, it is past 4 o’clock!  Thank goodness its Viernes!

La Ciudad Vieja 

I felt a bad case of something similar to “Senioritis” today.  I woke up at the usual 7:30 AM, remembered that I had already passed me test, then rolled over and went back to sleep.  I missed first period.  I tried to act casual as I half-sprinted my way to school, hoping that I wouldn’t be so late as to miss part of second period.  I reached the café next to my school when Caroline, Clara, and a new Swedish woman who’s name I forget, walked out to greet me. “How was playing hooky?” Caroline joked, as we walked up the staircase of the school and I pretended like I’d simply been with them on break, on time like everyone else.  Class was great, my appreciation for it and my teachers growing as I realized I only had one more day there.  I said my goodbyes to Amir and Farva, since tomorrow they will be absent in order to pick up Amir’s parents from the airport.  After school, Mommy and I watched Wimbledon as Serena Williams beat some girl in a close match (one of the best I’ve ever seen her play).  She will play her sister, Venus, in the finals – I’m so excited!

 

So after that, Mom and I attempted to go souvenir shopping for friends and family, but that hardly worked out on account of us getting lost again, but this time in a slightly scarier part of town.  However, the scarier part of Barcelona is the equal to nicer parts of most cities, and I kind of liked its bohemian style, graffiti art, and doggy/kitty doors carved out of store windows.  But closing in upon a slightly more eerie street, we encountered what I would call the strangest store (if one could call it a store) that I have ever seen:  its sign read “Atelier de la Muerte Negra” – Catalán for “The Factory of the Black Death”.  In the window there was another sign that also read in Catalán, “Hi, we are not in the public face.  We do not sell.  We do not buy.  We do not want anything and we do not want to be bothered. We are not a bar. [More Catalán I couldn’t understand]  We wish you a good day.  Kindly, The Death.”  I might be wrong, but I think that’s irony. Apparently one was not meant to see into the workshop, due to the iron-barred fence and the red curtain drawn in the window with nothing on display but a Skeleton and with a sign that said “KEEP OUT”.  Behind the curtain, barely seen and sitting the dark, was a more realistic skeleton peeking through the crack.  What creep ran this freak show, I wondered.  I was taking pictures of the cow skull nailed to the top of the store front, right next to the Jesus crucifix, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted a jerk of motion in the window; two security cameras were pointed at me with red blinking lights going off – time to split!

 

We made it out alive before the Zombie Police came after us. We were exhausted from our efforts of navigation, so we stopped at a market to purchase some peaches and people-watched on the street as we savored them.  We stopped in an old-looking Catholic church, not fully realizing tat it was a church when we walked in (we came in through a mysterious side door), and just sat and reflected in the pews for a while, admiring it’s simple beauty.  On Sunday, we will return.  Afterwards, after walking about the city for two hours, we realized that we had landed ourselves right on the corner of our street, two minutes away from our apartment; we had walked in a giant circle…

 

When the time came for dinner, we decided that we would give one Thai restaurant one last chance before we gave up on it for the remainder of the trip.  You see, we really miss spicy food, and we have been trying to get Thai food since the first week of our arrival, but we can never seem to get there when it’s open.  Like every restaurant in BCN (the locals’ own nickname for their city), this one has very strange hours.  It opens at 8 AM every day and closes at 7 PM.  Only on Thursdays and Fridays do they stay open for dinner, but only after closing at 7 for an hour, and reopening at 8!  So we get there 45 minutes early, excited that it was to open soon, and despite our aching feet, we walk around the block until it opens.  It’s 8 o’clock and its metal gate is still down.  Thirty minutes pass before it opens (we were obviously desperate for Thai food) and at last, we are able to sit down and enjoy Pad Thai, Fried Rice, and the most sinful chocolate lava cake I have ever laid eyes (and taste buds) on.  How satisfying!  Our stomachs full, we headed back home, where we met a sweet American couple standing in the front entrance, wondering how to get to Plaça Revolución, located somewhere within our own neighborhood.  One would think that, being here a month, we would know where that is.  Nope.  We are some directionally challenged Americans, my mom and I, but we gave it our genuine efforts and rushed upstairs to research the plaza’s location online to help out our fellow Americans.

 

As for now, I must head off to bed.  Tomorrow is my last day of school, and I don’t want to miss half of it for sleeping in!

 

Muchos Descuentos! 

Well today was The Test.  I destroyed it, I think, so no worries there.  The only stumbling block was when the “Hablar” portion of the test came up, when Jordi decided that he wanted to ask me about genealogical studies. Well that’s odd.  I could have sworn that he was going to ask me what I did this past weekend.  Este fin de semana, fui a la playa… I had my rehearsed answers ready in my head.  But wait – going to the beach wasn’t going to suffice.  This was a little discouraging considering that I don’t know how to say anything about genealogy in Spanish, but nevertheless, I managed to pass with flying colors in the end.

 

Today was the day that all of the girls (and some guys), locals or tourists, have been looking forward too.  In between test sections today, Carlonine, Farrah, Clara, and I took every chance we got to exchange locations of our favorite stores; today was the beginning of Sale Week.  Yes, Sale Week, when you can get an 85-Euro dress for 9 Euros (precisely what I did today), and when there are lines of fifty people or more waiting outside Gucci, Chanel, Valentino, and various other designer brand stores that practically “give their merchandise away”.  Obviously, we could hardly wait to get out of school.  Today proved very productive for me personally.  Not only did I pass The Test, but I also got €210 worth of close for €49!  I love Sale Week! And all we get in the States is Tax-Free Weekend.