Still with Barcelona

In my adventuring, I stumbled upon Casa Battlo and the Block of Discord. Having always been mesmerized by Antoni Gaudi in particular, and the modernisme movement in general, I stood on the side of the street slack-jawed, and smiling. I resolved then to take a tour of Sagrada Familia no matter what the cost (I had heard it was very expensive).

When I arrived at my scheduled time at Sagrada Familia, I was so excited and eager to get in.  I don't think I will ever forget the feeling of walking into this place for the rest of my life. I was at once elated, overwhelmed, overjoyed, and moved to welling eyes.  The beauty, artistry and vision are absolutely breathtaking. I wanted to spend all day sitting in silence watching the light move around the room, from stained glass paneled windows up through the skeletal and spinal-looking sky lights.  Light even comes down through the supporting, alternating spiraled columns through stained glass orbs of varying symbolic creatures. The crucifix was dangling precariously above the altar, looking every bit as gothic and horrific as the story of the crucifixion.

I found myself turning circles looking up, walking laps around the inside of the church, taking note of the old versus the new construction.  Hand chiseled-stones equally supporting and beautiful as their laser-cut counterparts. Carved stone stairwells, with very cave-like enclaves and bony railing. The whole interior is very boney, spidery, biological and vertebral. As the light came through some columns, the glass orbs looked almost as though they were eyes looking down at you, complete with eyelashes. Every detail was intentional and symbolic.  Twelve towers for the apostles, one tower spire topped with a cross for the Virgin Mary, and the highest tower leaving room for souls to reach heaven. Both confessionals were majestically situated for what I imagine to be maximum guilt production.

Ahhh, the whole thing was absolutely worth every penny, and I could have easily done it again the very next day.  Even as I boarded the metro to leave, the Moonlight Sonata was eerily pouring in through the sound system.
Later that day I trekked up to Park Guell to see the Gaudi House museum. I was shocked to see the abundance of anti-tourism graffiti in this neighborhood. People were yelling angry-sounding things at us as we lined up to enter, and one man went so far as to throw a shoe out the window..... ok, not quite what I expected, but I'm already here, so......
Park Guell is HUGE. Also, I think it's a little bit of a tourist trap in that buying tickets ahead of time guarantees entry, but only to SOME parts of Park Guell, which wasn't very clear when I was trying to purchase tickets online. I never did see the marvelous mosaic lizard that is the first to show up on a search for Park Guell, I did however weasel into a fantastic high-mountain view of Barcelona clear to the sea.
The Gaudi house museum is either very dedicated to it's preservation, or is desperately building hype, because a minimal number of visitors are allowed in at a time, and you get a half hour to take it all in. No, I am not kidding. That being said, I was expecting some sort of grandeur similar to my Sagrada experience and was sorely let down.
Yes, the house is cool, and yes, Antoni Gaudi was quite eccentric, but it did not move me nearly as much as I had hoped or expected.  I mostly walked through the house grateful for it's air conditioning, taking note of the beautiful flooring, and then being creeped out by his peep-hole.

The rest of the house was, for me, unremarkable. He made furniture, and it's what I expected, roundy-swirley wooden pieces of peculiar scale and proportion.  Other than that, it was clear that he became extremely religious and dedicated late in life, none of which was news to me.....
Stay tuned, more adventure reporting to follow!

Barcelona Begins

My arrival to Barcelona was clouded with exhaustion, hunger, and skepticism. Prior to leaving for Copenhagen, I had already booked an AirBNB reservation for an apartment near La Rambla, however, on the evening before my arrival, I received an email from my host indicating a different address.  Essentially, the apartment I thought I had rented wasn't where it was advertised, and this new location was less then savory for a single traveling female. I stayed up hours the night before leaving Denmark, frantically trying to locate another option suitable to my needs. I found another rental, booked it, and had been waiting for check-in information. 
Fast forward to my flight's arrival, which was in the evening, and I still had no check-in information from my (now 2nd) host. I learned very quickly that the airport in Barcelona has spotty wifi at very best.  I found the nearest familiar face to phone my host, only to realize I had again been duped* by AirBNB in Barcelona.  

I remembered reading something about a swanky new hostel chain, Generator Hostels, and recalled seeing an advertisement for a Barcelona location.  This is where I would end up trying desperately to rest. I emphasize trying, because it was tantamount to sleeping inside a nightclub filled with Spring Breakers. Never have I felt like such an old, tired soul. This was also the first night I was truly grateful for packing a few KIND bars for emergency meal situations like this one.  First night in Barcelona recap: Barcelona 3, me: 0.  Ha-rumph. 

My second day I was feeling more refreshed and able. I woke up and searched for good accommodations near El Gotic suitable for a single traveling female.  Oddly enough, a blog post brought up exactly that, and I ended up staying the rest of my time in Barcelona at the fantastic guesthouse, Barcelona Fashion House (BCN Fashion House).  When I walked into the door, Claudia greeted me so sincerely, and the accommodations were so clean, peaceful and soothing, I felt like I had walked straight into heaven. This was where I was meant to stay, complete with a garden terrace, mandala artwork, and network access referencing Ganesha.  YES.

After settling in, I spent the next few days riding the metro to a new stop, walking around, intentionally getting lost, and hopping back on the metro.  I saw regions of Barcelona immaculately groomed, with friendly faces, and regions filled with "Touristas go home!" graffiti.  One day in particular, I sought out a music festival expecting to spend my day lounging, eating, and enjoying a musical scene. HA. Funny, silly little new traveler.  My arrival to the festival appeared to be about 4 hours too early, and the neighboring streets were very clearly soaked in the prior evening's urine and celebrations. After wandering around getting lost and feeling quite out of place, I hopped back on the metro resolved instead to see the beach. 

The beaches of Barcelona in July are quite the spectacle.  I'm pretty sure every partying resident of the Generator hostel was down there dehydrating themselves in the Mediterranean sun. It was simultaneously overwhelming and fantastic. I also promptly turned around, laughing to myself and realizing I prefer more seclusion and serenity to my beach time. I was getting hungry, so I started wandering the small streets of Barceloneta for food.  I ended up finding L'Ostria Taverna Gastronomica where I ate one of the most delicious salads I think I have ever had.  It was a bowl of arugula with burrata wrapped in a purse of freshly pulled mozzarella, pimentons, olives, olive oil, some small drizzle of angels tears, and topped with giant flakes of sea salt. I tell you, I may have been staving, but that salad was dream-worthy. 

I also ordered mussels, a potato puffball they called La Bomba, and a cava sangria.  Mid meal, my server and I attempted the hybrid-language conversation that was becoming normal, justin time for me to realize he was asking if I smoked marijuana and inviting me to his "cafe."  Not quite knowing what the "right" answer was, or if this was even what he meant, I just kept smiling and nodding like a dummy. Well, not quite like a dummy, since the only harm that was done was an exchange of business cards and smiles.  Stuffed, a little confused, and watching the sunset over the Mediterranean, I began my walk/metro ride back to BCN Fashion House.

Copenhagen

My time in Denmark should have been around 4 days, but thanks to either Norwegian Air or Malaysian Air, my initial flight was delayed 29 hours which also led to a subsequent delay in Stockholm.  Let me start off by saying Copenhagen is CRAZY adorable.... like, Its a Small World at Disneyland adorable.  According to your local artist/wine drinker, Rolf, Copenhagen has very strict guidelines about what can and cannot be done with real estate there which has resulted in a city beautifully trapped in time.My first day in Copenhagen was spent drooling on my sister's couch as I face-planted in a way only 3 straight days of traveling can cause. Later that night after I wiped my sleep-ridden face clean and pulled myself together. My sister and her comrades from the Copenhagen Institute of Interaction Design gathered at her apartment for a small house-party and welcome dinner.  The food, which I have no memory of preparing, but have been told I assisted, was delicious, and the company was even better.  We all gathered with about 4 too many bottles of wine to split and had a wonderful evening filled with conversation, laughs, and a strange Danish game of pool involving a red ball, two cue balls, and 4 wooden miniature bowling pins.  I'm couldn't tell you how to play, but I can tell you that the bartender at Cafe Viking is none too friendly... not rude, but definitely not warm. She seems like the kind of lady who has absolutely had it with throwing drunken vikings out.
My second day I walked around Nørrebro and ended up renting a bike for about 75DKK to explore Copenhagen and meet my sister at the Institute. That did not go as planned.... Or did it? What should have  been a 20-30 minute ride turned into over a three hour expedition throughout the Danish countryside and Copenhagen outskirts.  I can unequivocally tell you that the Danes speak marvelous English, and are very friendly.  I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.  Perhaps I stereotype cold climates with cold people... either way, the people of Copenhagen were positively surprising in this aspect. Once I finally found my way to the Institute and met up with my sister, we participated in an artist's lecture  and presentation wherein we were paired off into groups according to eye color (yes, I'm serious), blind-folded (again with the serious), and led around the city for the sole purpose of enhancing our auditory awareness as to the symphony of the City.  It was a remarkable experience, if not only for the 100% survival rate. Most of those participating are not native to Denmark, and were responsible for the blind-folded lives of their random partner.  It's a little amazing that everyone enjoyed it without injury, death, or absolute disorientation.
After we finished there, my sister and I enjoyed typical tourist-fare at NyhavenC where we ended up meeting the previously mentioned, Rolf. She introduced me to a variety of ways herring is served along with schnapps to go with our fish. Between Rolf's company, the schnapps, and the live local band playing along the canal, our evening was only getting better.My sister decided to take me on another (small) bike adventure after we ate, and we cycled over to Islands Brygge to take a dip in Øresund.  I think this means I have officially swam in the Baltic and North Seas. This could be a stretch, but because I am not very cold tolerant, I'm taking the liberty. Then we biked home, as I had to catch my flight to Barçelona the following day....

Delayed....

I was all ready to head out on the big adventure yesterday, driving to the airport with my mother and father, only to be told we were delayed by 28 hours.  Yes, you read that right.  Delayed more than an entire day.  So I waited around.....

Which really means I called my family and we decided to have an airport beer while waiting for official word.  Fast-forward to what is clearly compensation and lodging, and you have the three of us enjoying cocktails at a rooftop bar in San Francisco.  After a couple rounds, we decided to venture out for dinner and caught ourselves a cab.  Our cab driver proceeded to open up a conversation about politics, which led to the following actual quote: "you know... that president, 'Bama is full of black magic.  You never hear white magic or yellow magic.... Me, I'm yellow.  You, you're white! But no.  No yellow or white magic. Black magic. That's what's wrong today, a president of black magic. No one says yellow magic."
Hop out of that interesting ride, and head to dinner at Sotto Mare.  We walk in the door, they are playing loud party music, and my mother instantly begins to sing - loudly.  The staff of women encourage her, and begin to wail along with her, and now myself.  Tourists are taking photos, videos, clapping and joining us.  My father is standing off to the side of the host's stand, and I'm not sure yet if he's hiding or enjoying the spectacle.  The host informs us that there is absolutely no way we can eat tonight, as they are completely booked up.  The singing staff and I plead otherwise, essentially arguing that we count as family now.  He reluctantly agrees, and tells us to come back in 45 minutes.  Easy enough, this place was a blast and smelled divine.
Back to my trusty Yelp app, where we decide to head to Cinecitta for a cocktail and appetizer.  This little hole in the wall served up a delicious fried eggplant and arugula appetizer.  The portion was very large for the 3 of us, but we had 45 minutes to kill and as you'll see, it was for the best.
We walk back to Sotto Mare where the same staff member greets us each with a glass of red wine.  If that isn't family treatment, I don't know what is.  She asks us to put on whatever we want to get my mother singing again, so we cue up Amy Gilliom and get to crooning.  The music gets louder, the wine keeps being refilled, and before you know it, the staff is dancing up and down the aisles between tables, singing and dancing along with us.  After we are seated, the music just keeps getting louder until the host takes a maraca and starts dancing down the aisle, smacking the lights with it to the beat.  It was an unbelievably good time, and the food was delicious!

I guess you could say I made the most of my flight delay? So now, at what is exactly 24 hours after I was supposed to have departed, I am blogging from the airport, and my connecting flight is also delayed.  While this is annoying, it also means a free overnight stay in Stockholm.... Let's see if I can't outdo myself tomorrow. Cheers!

Obvious Travel Tip No. 1

So…. this may seem obvious to you, but was a freaky little a-ha moment for me.  Let me back up…. so, this week I leave for The Big Trip, and have been anxiously packing, unpacking, repacking, testing, assessing, and generally over-thinking this whole thing.  All of which has been very amusing for my family.  In the midst of this overly analytical behavior, I decided I should try out my sleep mask before I actually need it.  I have never used a sleep mask although I've dreamt longingly of Audrey Hepburn's in Breakfast at Tiffany's.  

I thought overall the night went smoothly, at least until I awoke. I removed the mask, and was a bit startled to realized my vision was completely blurred.  No worries, it should clear up with eyedrops, right? WRONG.  Hmmm, maybe I should try my glasses, right? WRONG.  So…. trying not to panic I proceed to hold my iPad inches from my eyes while attempting to Google "sleep mask blurry vision."  

At this point I realized how different my life, and many a human experience has changed with accessibility to the internet.  You know you've done something crazy if you search for something like this and NOTHING comes up.  Can you imagine? The horror! You are the only numnut who's done something this crazy.  

Fortunately this was not the case.  In fact, the search results were crawling with similar experiences, and one exasperated ophthalmologist after another reminding everyone to calm down.  That our masks were simply on too tight and had misshapen our eyes with pressure over time.  Things would return to normal.  Now that ladies and gentlemen, is a GOOD day Googling medical symptoms! 

Also, a friendly word of caution - don't make your sleep masks too tight!  Also, don't poke too much fun at the over anxious packers - had I not tried this out now, I could have been wandering the Copenhagen airport for who knows how long.  Think about it… there's something to be said for thinking things through….