I was so happy to be back in Barcelona...and back in a place where they speak Spanish. Being surrounded by a foreign language is exciting, but when you don't understand any of it, it becomes truly isolating. I'll stick to Spain.
Somehow, I managed to find my cousin, Jake, who was spending the holidays in Spain with his girlfriend, Angela. We haven't seen each other in years since he's been living in Delaware, but we coincided one single day in Barcelona and met up. Jake navigated with his huge tourist map and got us to everywhere we wanted to go that night. We even had a lovely Brisith man take this photo for us, after which he said "You all look great, truly!" The next day we all went on a mission to find Bagels and found the spot which had become a Pasta place. Disappointed, and in need of some kind of food, we split up. Bagels in the states
sometime?
We went to the old section of town (El casco antiguo) and needed a girls shot on the steps. Ignore the tourist shop now built into the beautiful old building.
We went up to Park Guell which is some of Gaudi's most beautiful work, if you ask me. When walking up to the park it gets so steep that they built escalators into the sidewalks. I was quite thankful for them, though Mike insisted on taking the stairs. He hauled past some kind of sports team sitting on the ground all sweaty, passing around potato chips. Here we found some mosaics on the ceiling and I made the mistake of telling everyone how last time I was there, everyone had their cameras on the floor and were leaning in over them. So. That's when this happened. Aside from the double chins, this makes for a cool picture.
Here's some more of the park and up at the very top you can see the world's longest bench. It's all covered in mosaics. We had previously asked Mike to pose in front of this same spot and THIS leg-out action was his pose of choice. So, naturally, we had to copy.
We went up an elevator to take the cable car across the water to get this awesome view of the city. While in line we argued about what the little car was actually called. In Spanish it's a 'teleférico'. I had myself convinced for a good ten minutes that there was an English word 'teleferic'. I then settled on cable car but to disputes from my friends. We settled it by looking up the translation of 'teleférico' which is, indeed, cable car. I came through after a momentary lapse of being able to think in English.
At the other side of the cable car ride, we got off and walked around on the big mountain. We made it quick as we watched the line and strategicaly planned our sprint back down to the car to beat the crowds. For some reason, Mike wanted a picture with me. I must make him look good, or something :).
Yes, I talk to cats. And kittens. And they were living under the stairs at the beach and I insisted on spending ten minutes playing with them. Actually, I didn't insist, I just did it and ignored the reactions of my friends. Amy thinks that they didn't speak English, but really that wasn't an issue. There is no such thing as a language border between cute cats and me.
For all my true friends out there, you know exactly why I took this picture. I walked by this store 15 times before I saw it. And then it was blatantly clear. Hilary Duff. On the shop sign on the street where our apartment was. Coincidence? Please.
Rooftop of a Gaudi building (Casa Mila, La Pedrera). We are quite obviously licking the soft serve vanilla icecream. All it needed were some rainbow sprinkles.
Finally! The real reason I flew all the way to Barcelona: to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 in English. Okay, so it's not the only reason I went but it ranked pretty high up there. I felt like I was back in the United States (for the very first time since I've been here) for a solid 2 1/2 hours. Dear Ron Weasley, I wish you were not fictional, but I will settle for your slightly less exciting counterpart Rupert Grint. I can be in England in a heartbeat. Also, I hear you've purchased an ice cream truck, and if that doesn't make you wildly attractive, I don't know what does.
Barcelona was very good to us. Except this one boy working at Subway...Mike made more order for him so I started in Spanish and the guy immediately started laughing under his breath. I ignored for a minute til I said "What? You'd rather speak English? Why are you laughing at me?" To which he just shook his head and continued in Spanish. But he kept laughing and I wasn't going to let him get away with it. "You obviously understand me, no? Then what's the problem?" He answered: "Laughing is a good thing, it means you're enjoying your job more." When we got up to pay I said something like "That's it, I'm ready." And he said to the cashier "A discount for her", to which I quipped "Why? Because you owe me for laughing?" giving attitude=discounts. If only that rule worked in the states...
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