Back in November, I decided that since I’d be in Sweden for the Christmas holiday, I wanted to take advantage of the four weeks off and go travel. My friend, Julian, mentioned that he was going to Barcelona to visit his friend from Colombia who was also pursuing a museum studies degree, and when he offered me a place to come, I couldn’t resist.
Holy cow. Barcelona is fantastic. Probably one of the most memorable trips I’ve had in Europe yet. Not only is the city absolutely enthralling, but it’s positively breathtaking in all the gritty and most beautiful ways possible. A place with twisting iron balconies and colorful rashes of paint-crumbled walls, it's like Rome, but far less stern--ancient and bohemian. You can feel the heat of the summer in this city even in January; it draws the breath from you in its narrow streets, tall like a brown-stone labyrinth. Here's a free-write snippet it that I've taken from my journal...
...i am swallowed by the city day by day, every hour deeper into forgetting and knowing at the same time, i stuff my chilled, naked hands in my jacket pockets, playing with euros. each night, each day, we strut down this city in right angles by its graffitied garage doors, the fluid snap of Catalan echoing in the corners of the bars, the alleys, the doorways, the smell of garlic and cigarettes and subway following behind us on a mild winter wind, take me to the absinthe bar again, my soul says in mixed spanglish, take me to plates of tapas and late nights with yellow lights spilling out of doorways and beer finally at the right price per glass—i have thinking to do, in the midst of cigarette smoke and boys with dark eyes—and play that soul music, please, mixed a bit with that spanish tango. yes, play it all, because lord knows, i’ve got so much to unwind in streams over your tattooed streets...
I dunno. Maybe you get the idea.Every morning, Julian and I would get up at 8 or 9am and breakfast with espresso and croissants, and then launch ourselves on the tourist attractions and museums. Here's a list of some of the places we left footprints:
- Park Güell (Gaudi's Park and Groundskeepers House)
- Le Passeig de GràciaSagrada Familia (my jaw literally dropped for 2 minutes)
- Plaça Catalunya and Avinguda Diagonal (must have crossed that a billion times)
- Barri Gòtica (Gothic Quarter)
- Las Ramblas (ah yes, bittersweet memories)
- Centre de Cultura Contemporània de Barcelona (CCCB)
- Museum of the History of Catalonia
- Cosmocaixa (won the European Museum of the Year Award 2006)
- La Boqueria (largest open-air market in Barcelona)
- Church of Santa Maria del Mar (beautiful old gothic church)
- Parc de la Ciutadella and the Arc de Triomf
- Montjuïc (set up on a hill, and if you take the right way, you can pass by the old Olympic Stadium)
- Sant Sebastià Beach (granted at night, but nonetheless wonderful)
- Santa Maria de Monserrat (monastery with the only black virgin in the world)
In between all of this sightseeing (which I was blissfully happy often happened without jackets and slicks of sidewalk ice), we’d find any excuse to eat. Tapas, tapas, tapas have changed my perspective of food; it is now definitely my favorite kind, which really even more of a reason for me to learn how to properly cook, since Spanish cuisine is seldom on the streets of Gothenburg or Seattle. Whipped, creamy aioli on spicy potatas bravas, cold sparkling cava and warm red rojas, sautéed mushrooms and grilled tomato sandwiches, garlic and tomatoes rubbed on salted toast with olive oil, delicious green and purple olives, Spanish ham on crispy baguettes, Spanish hot chocolate and Barcelonian pudding... On New Year’s Eve, we made sushi out of pink and purple slabs of fresh fish we bought at the Market, kiwi and banana, avocado and cucumber. Oh yes, Barcelona taught me about food profiles; since I’ve been back, it’s been very hard to get used to the modest Swedish way of eating.
And yes, as some of you heard, I also paid a trip to the U.S. Embassy in Barcelona. On my very last day in Barcelona, probably while briefly crossing Las Ramblas with my iTouch on, my bag was pickpocketed. Hours away from my flight back to Sweden, I had no phone, no passport, no credit cards, no debit cards, no identification, and no cash. It was only when I didn’t have enough money to pay for my espresso at the corner café that I realized I had been robbed, and I don’t think I’ve ever gone into shock so fast. My hands started shaking so hard I couldn’t zip my bag. Needless to say, I positively ran back to Juan Manuel’s flat and, upon entering the doorway, collapsed in a panic on his floor.
I’ll say this now, even if it is corny, but if it wasn’t for the incredible family I have and the friends I made in Spain, I would not have gotten home. A quick text to Gabby got my family on Skype got all my cards cancelled, phone numbers to banks, and copies of all my identification emailed to me. My Colombian friends, within fifteen minutes, found the nearest U.S. Embassy (thank god there was one in Barcelona) and translated my whole experience at the Catalonian police department. Juan Manuel was an absolutely angel, and I sincerely believe it. After seeing how shaken I was in the dingy police station where we had to file the police report, he brought me a fabulous Cuban restaurant, walked with me along the darkened streets of the Gothic quarter, and shared stories of his own robbery experiences (which certainly gave me more perspective). On only four hours of sleep, he woke and escorted me to the U.S. Embassy, paid for my passport, bought me breakfast, led me through Barcelona traffic by bike to the bus station, and paid for my ticket to the airport.
I know. An angel. Seriously.
I’ll tell you, though, it’s a strange experience going through the airport with no money, a fresh passport, no phone, and only a ticket to get you home. I was praying in the RyanAir line that nothing would go wrong, because otherwise, I’d be literally stuck at the airport. When I managed to get through everything, I have never in my life been so glad to see Sweden…
But, despite all this, my trip to Spain was positively epic. I managed to have incredible time and learn some serious lessons.
- The importance of language. Listening and speaking Spanish has made me determined to become fluent in the only major language I have really studied. Granted, I think I'll probably have a Colombian accent. :-)
- The Spirituality of Food. Call me a born-again omnivore. The sacred nature of garlic and tomato.
- How to be a Traveler. To keep cool, but to keep cautious. The differences between to visit and to live. How you can't be too sure, and yet, how you can't say yes enough. :)
But most of all, I found enough clarity to choose my dissertation topic: the efficiency of science communication through interdisciplinary means in museum spaces. Lame ending to a crazy tale, but hey, who said a police report had to be my only souvenir?
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