The title may seem cliché upon first glance, but anyone who has ever been to Barcelona will understand exactly what I am talking about. However, it would be unjust to skip strait to Barcelona without first speaking of Zaragoza. We left bright and early on Thursday morning after a late night at our first Real Madrid game, a game in which they dominated, of course. Due to the fact that most of the large rivalry games are extremely pricey, this Wednesday game that we attended was not exactly a nail biter; Read Madrid beat Los Millonarios (a Columbian team) with a final score of 8-0. This also meant that the oh-so-handsome Cristiano Ronaldo was not playing that night….*sigh* I suppose that means I will just have to come back to Spain and watch that sexy man in action on the soccer field at a later time.
Back to Zaragoza: we did not have any guides for this
particular stop as we explored La Catedral de la Seo de Zaragoza, which was a
surprising freedom that we all gladly embraced.
This cathedral in particular was a bit more modernized with a bit of
Antonio Gaudi influence as opposed to most of the gothic style, pre-Renaissance
cathedrals we had toured on some of our other excursions. Many of the statues inside were made of
marble or other precious stones rather than carved from wood and the majority
were left unpainted. Outside the
cathedral we found plenty of fun areas to explore; a nearby fountain, some
statues, and some fun stores with interestingly translated names gave us plenty
to occupy ourselves with during our free time in this particular Spanish
city.
A few of us also had an interesting encounter with some
Spanish men. By now we are pretty
accustomed to the catcalls and “Hola, guapas” that we hear everywhere we
go. Firstly, because we are sexy and we
know it; secondly, because European men just tend to be a little more vocal
whenever they see anything they like.
These men, however, were a little more persistent. It began with the usual catcalling, asking if
we needed our picture taken, etc. It
then escalated to prolonged staring and blowing of kisses, repeated loud
whistling, desperate whistling from across the plaza as we walked away, and
ended in a pursuit where we were forced to take shelter temporarily in a hotel
to throw them off of our trail. It was
nothing too serious, but a funny tale nevertheless.
After another four hours of traveling, we arrived in the
beautiful city of Barcelona. Well, it
didn’t seem particularly beautiful in the rain, but the sight of palm trees and
the ocean on the horizon was enough to get us all pretty excited for what was
to come. After settling in at the hotel
very briefly, a small group of us immediately went out in search for a hot spot
to eat our late-night dinner. Although
we didn’t find the place we had originally set out to find, we stumbled upon an
extremely trendy and chic totillería by the name of Flash Flash. We were first drawn in by the clever
decorations, were floored by the prompt and flawless service of the well-dressed
waiters, and upon trying my tortilla I was absolutely smitten. Also just to clarify: when I say tortilla, I am not referring to the
plain flour or corn-based circle used as a staple in Mexican culture. I am in fact referring to a tortilla Española, which is rather
similar to an omelet in the United States, only a lot classier and with many
more exciting ingredients and variety.
The particular tortilla that I ordered was in fact a pastel de
tortillas, which consisted of three tortilla varieties (onion, tomato, and
potato) as well as pepper, artichoke, eggplant, and olives all topped with a
savory mayonnaise based sauce. I have
always loved traveling and food, but when you combine the two of them together
and allow yourself to be a little adventurous you can never go wrong. To make things even better, we stumbled upon
a crepería (crepe restaurant) about half an hour after finishing our light
dinner portions, ending our first night in Barcelona on a sweet and satisfying
note. 
Following our typical weekend overindulgence at our continental
breakfast, we boarded the bus with our guide for a ride-along tour of the
city. Our first stop was the Parque de
Güell, a park designed by Gaudi and full of many of his creations and ideas,
including what is rumored to be the largest bench in the world, several of the
houses of Gaudi, and the house that Gaudi himself dwelt in that was built by
one of his finest students. I had not
researched much into Gaudi or his previously in my life, but now I have fallen
in love with his unique style and amazing capacity to create. 
Shortly after this amazing visit to the park, we were guided through and received a thorough education of one of the crowning jewels of Barcelona and Spain as a whole: the Sagrada Familia. The symbolism involved in the construction of the Spanish cathedrals has absolutely nothing on the symbolism placed upon every material, every statue, and every stained glass window fragment that makes up the Sagrada Familia. I won’t go into too much detail since I know that only readers who get as amped up by symbolism as I do (aka other English majors with an immense appreciation of artistic value in all forms) would appreciate all that I have to share. My favorite new piece of knowledge that I gained by far was this; the Sagrada Familia is still under construction. This basilica was designed by Gaudi and construction began in the year of 1889 with the idea that it would take hundreds of years to complete. At the time many of Gaudi’s layouts and ideas were impossible to execute with the available amount of technology, but he trusted the following generations to make these dreams of his fully realized. The Sagrada Familia has artistic style, construction, and materials accumulated from 1889 and onward in a wonderful medley of artistic appreciation dedicated to God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. As our guide so eloquently informed us, if an artist now were petitioned to imitate art from the 19th or 20th century, they would not really be creating true art. According to the current schedule, the Sagrada Familia should be complete by the year 2030, although some say that it will never truly be finished.
Filled with a new appreciation for art and empowered by the profound
messages and hidden meanings unveiled to us in the Sagrada Familia, we set off
into the heart of the city to shop, explore, and experience the city of
Barcelona firsthand. We wove in and out
of stores and through Las Ramblas (the famous market district of Barcelona) to
start off our journey, putting our hunger for shopping on hold temporarily to
satisfy our ever-present hunger for new and exciting Spanish food. What better place to grab lunch than at the
most famous food market in Barcelona, La Boquería? I could have spent hours in there looking at
the various colorful and enticing displays of meat, fish, nuts, eggs,
sandwiches, and fruit, but with only once day in Barcelona we had a lot of
other things to see. I left La Boquería
with a fresh cup of coconut blackberry juice in my hand and a small chicken
empanada settling happily in my stomach.
Shortly thereafter we encountered a flea market at the mall located
near the port filled with various booths much more suited for our budgets than
the average European clothing store.
When a few of my friends wanted to try on some handmade, vintage-style
dresses, we made the public mall bathroom into a fitting room. One of the ladies who ran the dress booth not
only gave us plenty of dresses to try on, but also a full length mirror to
bring into said bathroom area. After our
fun little fashion show adventure with some unexpected guests trying to use
some of the public bathroom stalls (oh the nerve!), Evelyn and Kari made some
purchases that we all approved of unanimously.
We continued our walk in the direction of the Arco de Triunfo and
witnessed what seemed to be a large rollerblading competition unfold beneath
this famous arc. Rollerblading seems to
be a common display of talent over here in Europe among street performers,
possibly comparable to the popularity of breakdancing on street corners in the
United States.
Next came the Calle de Gracia, one of the widest and most
well-known streets of all of Barcelona.
This street is particularly known for it’s luxurious shopping, various
Gaudi houses, and extremely pricey real estate.
Needless to say, we did not make any
purchases while on this street, but it was fun to fantasize that one day we may
be rich enough to spend 300 euros on a pair of fabulous high heels. Once we decided we felt sufficiently poor and
out of our own leagues, we began our quest for dinner. After a long day of walking around Barcelona,
we were pretty famished and really craving some hefty portions of paella. Instead, we found ourselves at a slightly
more upscale restaurant by the name of Tomate.
The portions were smaller and the food more expensive, but oh baby was it worth it. I shared some patatas bravas with mi amiga
Mary and ordered my own rice dish with clams and saffron with what seemed to be
a hint of lime. I tried a small bite of
foie, which I found out later was duck liver; a weird texture to be sure, but
also very tasty. I felt extremely
European not only because I was wearing my new scarf and eating smaller
portions, but also because I managed to make that small portion last for almost
an hour as I chatted casually with my friends.
I cannot tell you how many times I have been told since arriving here
that Americans rush too much, especially with consuming their food. Once I had a bite of my exquisite rice dish,
I more fully understood why savoring every small morsel of food is often far
superior to just scarfing it down mindlessly.
We returned to our hotel after dinner, but we were not there
for long. The motto last night from that
point on went something like this; the night is young and we are in
Barcelona. So naturally, we changed into
our swimsuits and decided to walk down to the beach for a midnight
Mediterranean swim. On our way we
encountered the beach carnival, some sexy men, some not-so-sexy men, and a
random concert in an alley with feel good Spanish music and the full spectrum
of the adult population dancing the night away.
Once we finally arrived at the beach, the wind was blowing and the tide
was high, so our midnight swim turned out to be a lot more like a midnight dunk
in the waves. I had anticipated being
extremely cold after fully submerging myself in the Mediterranean Sea water,
but on the contrary I felt completely invigorated and was quickly dried off by
the strong coastal breeze. From there,
we split into two groups; those who wanted to take the metro home and those who
wanted to walk and take in more of the nightlife of Barcelona. I chose the second option, and my friend Kari
and I took full advantage of the night and walked through the Barrio Gótica
(literally gothic neighborhood) of Barcelona and made it back to our hotel
rooms with absolutely no regrets. That, mis amigos, is the story of how I fell in love with the city of Barcelona. I vow that I will one day return, hopefully with my parents, my Aunt Tammy, or my future hot Italian boyfriend along for the ride.
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