Barcelona Pics

Andorra Pics

Euro Trip: Leg 1 - Andorra & Barcelona

So it begins.

Day 1.

Mack and I wake up early, eager to start our journey on a good foot, mainly meaning not missing our flight to Barcelona. After a few quick fact checks to plan our real goal of reaching Andorra and reading the Wikipedia entry for Andorra (population: 80.000, tourists a year: 10 million) we head to the airport, and without a hitch, we are off to Barcelona.

As I have found, Ryan Air is really pretty dependable if all you need is a flight, and it has continued to be great. We touch down in Barcelona on time and head to the info desk for Andorra bus information. We decipher the schedule, bum around the airport for awhile, and board our bus to Andorra, tiny country number one of the trip.

About three hours, a car crash (all I know is that we collided with a white car, I am not sure whose fault it actually was) and a beautiful ride through the Pyrenees later, we arrive in Andorra la Vella, capital city of Andorra.

My first impression of the city? Well, it was basically a large ski resort town, with a lot of shopping. And I mean A LOT of shopping. Reason? Well, Andorra is a tax haven, meaning it doesn’t have sales tax and has a very low income tax. Good thing too, because of my customs fiasco (I will explain later), I need to shop. Winter clothes will come in handy once we get to Switzerland, I suppose. I needed a new camera, too. Thank you Tarifa, your sandy beaches are like sirens, beautiful, tempting, and deadly, to cameras at least.

So we walk through the city to actually the neighboring city of Les Escalades, locate our hotel and drop off our stuff. After a stop at a small market, we eat dinner in our room and hit the town to explore! Well, if you can call walking around staring into all the closed shops exploring, then we explored. Really, Andorra? You are worse than Spain! You close shop at 8! Fine, we will meet again tomorrow, small country.

Day 2.

Mack and I set out from the room early to take advantage of our precious time in Andorra, only to find that stores are still closed! Come on! Really? You wait until 10 to open again? And some of the stores even take siesta? How does anything get done in this country?

Well, Mack and I explore the city a little more by walking down to the old part. Honestly, if you are looking for history, skip Andorra. It turned out to be great for cheap cameras and clothes (when the stores eventually opened), but the only old building was a church, and it wasn’t too spectacular.

As I just mentioned, I buy my camera and we catch a bus to Ordino, an even smaller city in Andorra, located further up in the mountains. Ordino afforded us some spectacular views of the mountains and was really quite quaint. But after exploring on foot and hiking up a path that essentially led us to nothing but some melting snow and mud, we decide that Andorra has shown us everything it has to offer. Mack and I walk to another city, La Massana, catch a bus to Andorra la Vella, and head to Barcelona.

Notable Achievements in Andorra:

1. We walked between two cities, verifying the viability of walking across the country.

2. I bought a camera so I can document everything that is to come.

Notable Failures in Andorra:

1. They did not stamp our passport.

2. We did not get to play in the snow. The capital is in the valley, where it rained, but did not snow.

We get into Barcelona after dark and have to navigate the metro. Good thing we kind of planned most of this out. We get on our metro train toward the hostel, walk through a very cultural (read: Indian, really? In Barcelona?) and a somewhat seedy neighborhood to get to Barcelona Mar. A stop at Dia and a pasta dinner later and we are out exploring Barcelona a little before we hit the sack. Travelling really takes it out of you.

Day 3.

On our way out of our room at the hostel we are shushed by our fellow roommates. Seriously? We didn’t talk, we didn’t turn on the lights, we just made the necessary rustling of belongings finding our clothes and such in the dark. If I remember correctly, you came in at like 2 am last night, turned on the lights and talked amongst people in your group while I tried to sleep through it. Don’t be rude, asshole.

Anyways, we walk down Las Ramblas to the pillar/column/statue commemorating Columbus. Here in Spain they love the guy. Seville, Madrid, Barcelona; this guy is everywhere. As an American, I am a fan of him too, and can’t complain. He has good reason to be popular, discovering a world that was already inhabited (but by savages!) and I wouldn’t be American if not for his ballsiness of risking sailing off the edge of the flat world!

After marveling at Mr. C, we headed to the dock to check out the sea. It was nice, but to be honest, the beach in Barcelona isn’t anything special. Santander actually has a nicer beach. And, theirs is fake! Yep! Fake. Along with the palm trees that they shipped in from Hawaii, the beach was made for the 1992 Olympics by bringing in sand from Egypt. They have to dredge more sand up to the beach each year because, being fake, it isn’t supposed to be there and the sea devours the sand. We learned this fun tidbit on our tour of the city, which is what we headed to next! (segway!)

The tour took us all through the Gothic part of the city. We saw the cathedral, old haunts of Picasso (apparently hookers didn’t like his first cubism paintings of them and chased him down the street, naked and very angry), the George Orwell Plaza (under video surveillance, Big Brother is watching) and other interesting sites throughout the barrio, including Space Invaders!

It being Christmas Eve we treated ourselves to some great Indian food and went to Midnight mass at the cathedral, but which I mean, we attempted to go to Midnight mass, were apparently late for the 10.00 mass and sat through about 40 minutes of Catalan before heading back to the hostel and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, and Bon Nadal.

Day 4. Christmas.

Where better to spend your Christmas than the Sagrada Familia? Okay, yea, the Vatican is okay I guess, but still. We slept in, walked along this one street with a few Gaudi structures and made it to the defining monument of Barcelona, Gaudi’s opus magnum of modernist architecture. With spires shooting into the air like drip sand castles and ornate sculptures depicting scenes from the bible, this church is definitely impressive from the outside. But that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. The building on the inside was gorgeous, with columns that looked like trees springing up, creating a canopy above. And the stained glass was super colorful and bright, making the entire building flooded with red and green and blue and orange etc light. Finally, we went up to stand between the spires on the top of the building. The view of Barcelona was beautiful. You could see for miles (or perhaps kilometers) all around.

Hours later we headed off to Parc Guell. The day turned out to be pretty Gaudi exlcusive. Parc Guell is a park that was designed by Gaudi to be a planned residential community I am pretty sure, and it lost funding so it was left as is, with a few Guadi buildings surrounded by really interesting arches and paths that make you almost feel like you are in some type of bizarre ruins.

Hungry, we head back to the hostel before going to the Picasso Museum. Mack will probably tell you, this was the worst decision of our trip, at least for her. As I got my fill of sandwiches, Mack sat on the couch in the common room, calling friends and family from home, wishing them a Merry Christmas.

Well, apparently Christmas is not as sacred as we thought, because a man comes in while I am away and asks Mack to translate some Spanish written on a piece of paper for him. We are all accustomed to strange occurrences in hostels by now, so she kindly acquiesced, leading to her ultimate downfall. The man held the paper over her lap as she tried to translate a gibberish word and as he slyly pocketed the iPhone that she had right next to her. Come on! It’s Christmas!

Clearly shaken, Mack had a minor freak out, but we managed to overcome the crisis and decide our best option was to report the theft to the police.

Great! Trip to the police station on Christmas! What could top this? Okay, yes, still the Vatican. Probably most things in this case, actually. As we stand in line to report our tourist mistake, we listen to the sob stories of countless other tourists recounting how they lost their wallet, their backpack, their camera. I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking they needed an AAesque stand where everyone could go up to and announce their mistakes, “I am a tourist and I lost my iPhone.”

Needless to say, we missed the Picasso Museum, but we did have one thing to look forward to! Shu Jian invited Mack and me to dine with him and his family later that night. Good thing! We were getting tired of the same old same old pasta.

Dinner, as those of you who know Shu Jian could expect, was enchanting. His family was lovely, the restaurant he chose was nice, and who doesn’t need a little semblance of family on Christmas?

Day 5.

Mack and I split up for the first time, to do our own things. I make the hike up Montjuic to see the castle and the Olympic buildings while Mack goes to see the history museum. After spending three weeks together, you can tell how perfect this is. I see buildings to wonder at, Mack sees historical ruins.

Again, the views from Montjuic were fantastic. I have found throughout my travels that I am a sucker for views. I have no qualms in paying 10 Euros to go up your church spire if you promise I will be able to see the entire city from the best vantage point around.

So I walked around the castle and the Olympic area for a few hours until Mack and I met up to go to the Picasso Museum. We walk all the way to the Picasso Museum and find out that IT IS CLOSED! Christmas break is a really great time to travel, except everything closes! Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, how many days off do you need! I understand that I have off, but that is exactly why you need to be open! I can’t come any other time.

Oh well, we went to the beach and walked along the coast a bit instead. We stopped by to watch some surfers take on the winter waves, too.

Eventually we head back to the hostel and eat dinner. This was our last night in Barcelona, and as I have said in earlier posts, Mack and I were looking to go out. It is here I will refer you to the quick stories about the trip I posted first.

Day 6.

Wow, two countries down and we are already on our way to Switzerland? What? I am going to miss your sunny and 55 degree weather Barcelona.

Notable Achievements in Barcelona

1. We took in Gaudi for Christmas.

2. Enjoyed some delicious Indian food.

3. Went out with a fun group of people from all over the world, and got to hear about a guy slapping a hooker.

Notable Failures in Barcelona

1. Lost an iPhone. Goodbye easy access to the internet, hello inside of Barcelona police station.

2. Missed an opportunity to see Picasso’s earlier works.

3. Showed up 40 minutes late to dinner with Shu Jian. SORRY!

Some quick stories

So, as I watch Inglourious Basterds, or rather, Bastardos Sin Gloria or Bastardos Malditos, I figure I can also start writing about my trip. I think though, before detailing everywhere I went, like I usually do in a boring manner, I thought I could take my first blog entry about the trip to explain a few of the more exciting stories that happened throughout the trip. So, without further ado.

Barcelona – He Punched a Hooker

Our last night in Barcelona, Mack and I were yearning to go out. After all, in Barcelona, there is always a party, regardless of the day of the week. We had dinner at a table in the hostel were a group from WISCONSIN!!!! was sitting. After bonding over our home state, they invited us to come out with them, they were just going out to dinner and would come back to get ready and meet up with us. Sounds great! See you in a bit.

After they left I went to siesta. Let’s be honest, it was a nap. After dinner at 9pm it is no longer a siesta. It is a nap. Well, as I napped Mack bonded with some Moroccans. They invited Mack (and consequentially me too) to go out with them. Well, I guess since they are here, why wait for the fellow Wisconsinites? We can make some cultural connections. They go to get ready.

I come out to the common room of the hostel and sit down with a guy from Utah, a Brazilian, a Swede, and some Chinese girls studying in Sweden. Luckily, English is always the go to language. We chatted and hung out for a while. The guys were getting ready to go out and said I should come along. First of all, I love that pregaming is international. And, yes, of course I want to go out with you guys.

Well, that was easy, we now had 3 options of exploring Barcelona.

One thing leads to another and Mack got pregnant.

That was a lie.

So I tell Mack we were invited to go out with this group. Mack says let’s wait for the other group. We end up with 3(?) guys from Morocco, 2 girls from Madrid, the Swede (already drunk), the Brazilian (even drunker), and the guy from Utah. And we are off.

To where? Who knows where we are going? Nobody. Great.

Luckily, in big cities like Barcelona, there is always somebody trying to lure you to their bar with the promise of free entrance or a free shot or a free drink etc. A guy tells us we can go to some club, Pandamonium? Sweaty Dancy Club? Who knows. We decline, and head to an Irish pub. Fun fact, apparently Spain doesn’t understand what Irish pub means. Is it in English? Okay, awesome put it up. Ah well, at least that meant they were playing American football, the Packers no less, and serving Coronas? Okay, sure. A Corona in an Irish pub watching American football in Barcelona it is. Shots of tequila? Even better. (Don’t worry mom, I was responsible, only one beer and one shot for me.)

Okay, well we are done here, where too? Oh wait, first, let us take several pictures. Good. Okay, I think the pub staff is sufficiently annoyed with us. Pay and leave. Good. Let’s go. Oh wait, where is the guy from Utah? He knew where we were heading. Whatever.

On our way to the next place we run into… the guy from Utah! Everyone celebrates in the street. Nearby bars hear us, think we are drunker and rowdier than we are. They deny us. Good thing this chap offering us free shots to come to his bar doesn’t care, okay, everybody calm down.

Well, of course we don’t turn down the free shots. I sit down with the Madrid girls and Mack. The others go play spin the bottle with a group of Asians and French? Okay, as most people in CCC can tell you, that game just gets weird. Come on, we are old enough that bottles are not needed. The Brazilian comes over and starts running his hands through one of the Spanish girl’s hair while the Swede kind of just wanders about, looking depressed. Hmm.

Everybody done with their drinks? Good, let’s move on. Good idea, Swede, you take the drunk Brazilian home. He doesn’t look good and is stumbling. Cheers, see you tomorrow. Let’s meet up for breakfast.

Halfway to the club, the Spanish girls and I head back. I’d rather not go to a club, smell like smoke and sweat? No thanks, these clothes have to last me at least two more weeks. My body odor will do enough to make me unapproachable. Adios, hasta mañana.

The Spanish girls make our way back to the hostel. We pass a woman on the street, she looks upset, and also slutty. Something is obviously going on. Whatever, not our business. Upon making it back to Las Ramblas, we see the Swede and the Brazilian. What? We left you guys like half an hour ago. You should be back by now. The Swede sees us and runs up saying, “A hooker stole his wallet. I told him to go back and said the hooker probably stole it. We went back and then I slapped the hooker.”

Wait. Hold on. What? You slapped a hooker?

He dashes across the street, the Brazilian following him. We see the hooker we had just passed and the boys run up to her. Cops follow. Okay, not our place. Let’s just stay and watch, maybe we can find out what really happened. Oh, okay, they are getting taken to the cop station? Let’s just go back to the hostel and wait.

Never mind, it is 2am, I am not waiting anymore, I am going to sleep. I can wait until tomorrow.

I wake up, clean up and go to breakfast. The Madrid girls and I try to guess what really happened. We finally see the Swede. He confirms, someone indeed slapped or punched or kicked the hooker who they think stole the wallet. Well then, adios, off to Switzerland.

Geneva, Switzerland – Boarder Hopping

Mack asks, “So how are we getting to the hotel in Geneva?” Well, it is only a few kilometers from the airport, like less than three miles, I am sure we can catch some form of public transportation or a cheap cab ride there. Mack hesitantly agrees, that we should be fine.

We arrive in at the airport in Geneva. We go to the information desk for France. Our hotel is actually just across the border. She says, a bus runs kind of close to our town, but we would still have to walk. It’s better to just take a cab, it is night anyways. Fine, one cheap cab should be fine, we think.

Thirty five euros later, we disagree. We could have walked a few miles in the dark. Okay, let’s just drop off our stuff and walk to a restaurant, I am starving. Wait, you said the next town is a 15 minute walk away. Okay that is manageable. Oh? Everything closed half an hour ago? But it is only 7:30. Well, let’s just test it out.

No dice. She did not lie, everything is closed, we are wandering around in god knows where middle of nowhere France with no food. It is the middle of winter, it is night, I am cold. Let us just eat a big breakfast tomorrow.

Good, at least the stores open at a decent time. Breakfast was great. Okay, so now how do we get to Geneva? Okay, the lady at the desk says, we have to walk to the next town in Switzerland and catch a tram from there. Maybe a 20 minute walk.

Well, maybe a 20 minute walk when you know where you are going and it isn’t snowing. Well, at least it is beautiful. Do you think they will stamp our passports when we cross the border?

We get to Geneva. Where the hell was that border? Come on! I want a stamp from Switzerland. I walk across international borders and nobody even notices.

Paris – And he just stared at me

Being New Years Eve, we deemed it a good night to go out and enjoy some bubbly by the Eiffel Tower with the rest of the Parisians. A Brazilian notices us while getting to leave the hostel and says, “I want to go.”

“I am sorry? What?”

“I want to go. I am alone and want to go.”

“Umm, I don’t understand, do you speak another language.”

“Yes, Spanish.”

“Vale, que quieres?”

“I want to go out with you guys. I am alone and want to go to the Eiffel Tower but have nobody to go with.”

Oh, okay. Sounds good. Let me just put on a few more layers. I was freezing earlier today.

Mack lent me some long underwear, thank god. I go to my room to put it on. As I am taking off my pants to put on the underwear, another Brazilian comes in. Whatever, it is his room, too. Anyways, there is nothing to see.

He walks up to me, is about 5 feet way from me, and just watches me put on my long underwear, my pants and then belt up. Weird. Really strange. I leave, eager to go out, but more eager to avoid something like that again.

We wind up spending our night hanging out with more Brazilians. Luckily, none were as creepy as the other guy. One more thing, there are no formal fireworks at the Eiffel Tower. It just lights up at midnight. We didn’t even have a countdown. Oh well, still fun. And I got to pop open my first bottle of champagne while in Paris in front of the Eiffel Tower. Not too shabby.

How many ways...

... can I find to procrastinate?

Update blog with an entry that really serves no purpose.

Sporcle.

Meet up with my tandem partner for a few hours.

Watch movies in Spanish on cine-escape.com and peliculasok.com.

LA Times Crossword Puzzle.

Phineas y Ferb episodes.

Sporcle.

Read Huffington Post.

Check out everybody else's travel blog.

Sift through music collection.

Read through music blogs and online magazines. Thank you Paste for telling me the best of 2010.

Facebook.

Check email.

Sporcle.

Failblog.

Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Beiber.

Hipster Puppies.

LATFH.

weather.com? Really, I have better things to do with my time.

Like Sporcle.

Busy

Hay muchas cosas que tengo que hacer antes de escribir de mis vacaciones, pero quiero declarar que sí, estoy vivo y sano después de todo de lo que pasó. En las dos semanas siguientes tengo 3 examenes y una presentación (en castellano) sin mencionar una nueva pareja de tandem y las examenes finales que vienen después. Pues, debes echar un vistazo a mis fotos en Facebook. Saqué muchos, disfrútalos.

There are a lot of things I have to do before writing about my trip, but I want everyone to know that yes, I am alive and well after everything that has happened. In the next two weeks I have 3 tests and a presentation (in Spanish), not to mention a new tandem partner to meet and finals that are at the end of the month. So until then, check out all my photos on Facebook. I took a lot, so enjoy.