"Todo está cerrado los lunes..."

Ayyyy madre mia. I am starting to get a little behind on these blogs. I just read my last entry, about my birthday, and that was almost a month ago, I'm a total slacker. Though I am writing random thoughts in my journal when I get the chance, so I don't forget. This entry is going to be super long because I am going to attempt to combine Barcelona, Cadiz, Madrid, Toledo, Semana Santa, and Lagos together...we'll see how it goes, I may have to break it up somewhere for my sanity and your attention span.

First of all, we'll start with Barcelona. We went the weekend of March 26th-28th because we found some great plane tickets for only 25 euros. I think I've told a lot of you that it is hard for me to describe my trip to Barcelona. Of course it was beautiful, the coast, if nothing else, was worth seeing for sure. Yet many things happened to us that made Barcelona more of a joke of how much it hated us than anything else. I'll attempt to explain this, though I think its something that deserves more of an oral explanation, and even still it could be lost in translation.

Our “Barcelona luck” as it came to be known, (though the mishaps in Madrid turned out to be far more discouraging), started out when Steven missed the bus to the airport. Thankfully he caught the next one and made it on time. Our flight was rather enjoyable, and we were even treated to a grandma classic--Worthers butterscotch candy at the end. We got to our hostel without much trouble and were thrilled at how nice it was. Perfect location (right down the street from Gaudi's Casa Bastille), suppper nice rooms, clean bathrooms, hot showers, free internet and computers, free breakfast, a sweet lounge, a bar (with killer sangria), and some really cool girls studying in Italy that we had as roommates. Brooke fell down about 15 stairs on our way out sightseeing but overall, things started out great. We walked to Casa Bastille, Gaudi's house, which is known for its crazy architecture (refer to pictures for explanation). However, it was 17 euros to go inside, so we opted against that. We moved on towards the Sagrada Familia, which is also a project started by Gaudi a long time ago (not sure of the year...), but he died before it was finished so it has been an on going project in Barcelona to finish it, and it won't be done for like another 75 years. Why, I'm not so sure. It certainly isn't the funding because I'm pretty sure they do alright charging 11 euros to go inside and see a bunch of construction and another 2.50 to go to the top. The views from the top were definetely worth the 2.50, though. Barcelona has great views of the mountains and the ocean which was really neat.

After Sagrada, we headed to the grocery store and picked up some food to make for dinner, (the hostel also had a kitchen we could use). Burned the pizzas to hell but we weren't too concerned. Then we enjoyed some great sangria in the lounge with some live Spanish hiphop/reggae music by a group of 2 spanish girls, which was really cool actually. Before we left, Brooke had done research on bars in Barcelona and found one called the Dow Jones which, true to its name, is a simulation of the stock market (just what we want to see in the middle of the CRISIS—pronounced “cree-sees”), and they would have the drink prices on screens and then the market would “crash” and drinks would be really cheap. We got lost for about an hour going there, and were welcomed by a homeless man telling us to shut the fuck up. Always a good start. The bar was cool but a little less Wall Street than I expected. I wanted screaming and sweat and men crying...unfortunately it was a little mellow. We left a little while later, and were yelled at again as we walked out the door by the crazy man, (we weren't even talking this time, so it was quite unnecessary). This time however, Steven decided to retaliate by singing the beginning of “The Circle of Life” at the top of his lungs. Though ineffective, we all enjoyed it.

The next morning we headed to Parc Guell, also a Gaudi establishment (noticing a pattern?). I should also mention a special idiosyncrasy about Barcelona. They think they are really special and decided to speak their own language (a dialect really, though it is completely indecipherable), Catalan, and have been trying to become their own region for....basically all of time. And they don't even appreciate the most valient efforts in Spanish. So that's why everything was spelled weird and why we got dirty looks despite our most impeccable, ahem, communication skills. The park was really pretty cool. Gaudi was a weird little man...he came up with some very interesting pieces of work. He was a part of the naturalism movement which was completely inspired by nature. The park also had pretty views of the city because it was pretty high up. Afterwards, since it was a really nice day, we took the metro towards the beach. We picked up some groceries on the way for a picnic. We ended up choosing one of the worst spots on the beach for a few reasons. Number one was the guy in love with his body in a Speedo who made a route from the ocean to the showers right behind us, to lather himself in soap, about 17 times. The other much more entertaining reason was the homeless woman who we didn't notice until after we chose our seats because she looked more like a pile of blankets until she started telling us we had whore fingers and came over to ask for a tomato. (yes we gave it to her). She then proceeded to go over to the wall behind us, pull down her pants, and pee on the building, even though there was a perfectly good working public restroom about 20 feet away. Upon returning to her pile, she took off her red underwear and waved them at us. We all agreed to moved, and Steven was scared shitless and threatened to “light her life on fire”. (Don't worry, he didn't say it to her, and he didn't have the capacity to do so). We named her PB (poop bucket, because she had one—though slightly reminiscent of another nickname that has been created and eerily similar in looks...), and moved on. We walked down to the way end of the beach, and to our wonderful surprise it was much calmer, (it was really really windy at the other place). This was probably the best part of the trip. Though we couldn't go in the water, and wouldn't want to even if we had the proper equipment (ie. A swimsuit), we played around in the water and took a bunch of pictures. And then we were greeted with another lovely surprise.

The whole day, asians had been walking up and down the beach offering massages, and to my knowledge, they didn't bring in much business. But as we were playing in the water, we noticed a completely naked man sunning himself, and an asian woman went over to offer her services. Surprisingly, the man accepted and for the next 20 minutes we were hypnotized by the can't-look-can't-look-away car crash syndrome that involved this poor woman massaging this man's oddly tan ass. The punch line came when we witnessed the woman offer her massage to another who accepted, and unbeknownst to them, were being massaged with ass particles from the previous customer.

After getting lost for awhile we finally found the gothic quarter which had old buildings, a plaza, and the cathedral, (which was under reconstruction, obviously). We hiked it back to the hostel to shower and get ready to see this amazing fountain light show we heard about an then out for Amber's birthday. Well, thanks to the woman at the hostel for telling us the wrong time, and also for one of the girls we roomed with for forgetting her metro pass, we arrived 4 minutes too late for any light show. (Are you beginning to notice the little things that continue to happen..?) So we went out to dinner which was nice and then went searching for some bars. For some reason, in every city in Europe there is an Irish pub which usually has decently priced drinks, so we went into the first one we saw. We were immediately attacked by a vulture waitress who wanted to know what we wanted to drink STAT. We all hurriedly ordered a beer and Amber asked what they had to mix with vodka because she wanted a special drink. The answer she got was “I don't know, coke or whisky”. “Coke sounds fine...” And that was how she turned 21. We were on our way to a Chupiteria which is a place that makes a lot of fun shots, (great for birthdays), when a little blonde woman asked us if we wanted free shots. Um, yes. So she gave us a flyer for another Irish pub (we should've known then), and showed us where to go. We get in and find out we have to buy a drink first. Ok fine, give me a beer. Then we go up and the bartender goes “so do you guys want your shots now?” And we said yes and ordered tequila, and got a bill for 8 euro. Hell no. So we explain it to her and she says, oh that is only for vodka. Okay then give me that. I already poured those. I really don't care, I didn't drink them. You have to pay for them. I'm not paying for them, get me the manager. So she goes and gets the fat bouncer who tells me the exact same thing and I tell him the exact same thing in a less calm manner. So I ended it with, I'm not paying, BYE. And left in a fantastic mood. After that we weren't even in a mood to do anything besides sleep.

Our last day it was rainy outside (of course), but we went to the famous market Las Ramblas, which was really cool—they had a tons of fruits and veggies and fish and cheese and meat and candy...everything you could want.

After lunch at Pita Inn (delicious chain restaurant), we headed to the Picasso Museum. On the way there, we found AMAZING smoothies. As we're drinking our smoothies Steven goes “Well something good just happened so I guess that means...we're crashing?”. Unfortunately we had to wait in a bit of a line outside and it kept raining and then stopping and then raining again. I had my umbrella down and felt a little mist so I had put it back up not 24 seconds before I hear two big drops and one of the Italy girls say “Oh dude, you just got pooped on”. And I look up to find two huge shit drops on my umbrella, and the guilty pigeon looking down on me quite contently. Truly, this city did not like us. Or at least me. And I was beginning to accept it. The museum was really cool though, and I told Barcelona to suck it by sneaking some sweet pics of some Picasso works.

We had a few problems getting back, none too serious and none we didn't expect from Barcelona, however. These included almost not getting to the airport in time, Steven's boarding pass not printing, being in the very last row on the plane with no reclining option, and witnessing a “medical emergency” midair which delayed us running off the plane for a good 20 minutes. But we arrived in Sevilla at about 10pm and Amber made us all promise to go out like crazy for her birthday because it was shit all over the night before. So we went out until 7am and slept all the next day :)

Gracias and adios Barcelona.

So now I take you to Semana Santa, which is known world wide because Sevilla is known to have the most elaborate display of pasos and imagenes and nazarenos anywhere in the world. It is also known as our spring break. Don't worry I'll get more into detail into it later. Anyways, most people planned a big trip during this time. Amber and I were not as smart, however. So we did a trip to Madrid and Toledo. But the Saturday we left for Madrid (at 11pm), we went to Cadiz for the day at the beach. We almost didn't go because we were so tired, and almost missed the bus, but made it to Cadiz at 10.30am, prime beach time! Joke. It was cloudy and not a soul was on the beach minus a few dedicated seagulls. At around 2 oclock though, it reeeeeallly warmed up and there wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was BEAUTIFUL. The water was soooo blue and clear and amazing. I got a lovely little tan and we jumped around in the water, bodysurfing the waves all day. Also, I got pooped on again. My backpack and somehow the sleeve of my sweatshirt were splattered with pigeon shit. I have no idea how or when or most importantly WHY, but by now I just expect it and wasn't too upset. If, however, I ever get shat on in Sevilla, I'm packing up early.

We left for Madrid on the overnight bus at 11 oclock from Sevilla, we were supposed to get into Madrid at 5.15am, yes it was going to be early, but it was better than paying for a night in a hostel. Unfortunately, we got into Madrid a half an hour early...yes, 4.45 in the morning. We were aware of the fact that we would have to spend some time in the bus station, but any extra minute was painful. Thankfully the station was pretty nice and had a restaurant and cafe that opened at like 7. We went to our hostel at about 9, and we couldn't check in until 12 so we dragged our exhausted selves to the Royal Palace, Plaza Mayor, and Plaza de Espana. The palacio was really cool, but the plazas were nothing compared to the Plaza de Espana in Sevilla. We went back to the hostel and tried to sleep for awhile, but of course, we got the room with the broken lock that you had to hit just right in order to open it so every time someone new needed to come into the room, they had to pound on it. Needless to say, there wasn't much sleep that was had. Since we got there on a Sunday, the Prado museum was free for three hours so after our nap we headed in that direction. We went into the botanical gardens right outside the Prado and it was sooo pretty! The flowers were blooming everywhere, and for those of you who know me, you know one of my favorite things to do is taking pictures of flowers. After, we went into the Prado and saw some amazing art, the most impressive being Las Meninas by Velazquez...impressive. That night we took it easy because we planned on going to El Escorial the next morning.

Since I'm tired and talking about it makes me depressed, I'll make the fiasco of the Escorial a long story short. Basically, it was the thing I was most looking forward to; El Escorial is a monastery and some other pretty buildings but the Valley of the Fallen, (where Franco is buried), is apparently really really cool, and I wanted to see it really badly. Well, after going through some hoops just to get to the city outside of Madrid, we come to find out that everything is closed on Mondays because its Spain, and it hates us. So that was a total bust, and after walking around the city for awhile we get back on the train to Madrid. The whole time while we were on our way towards El Escorial we never needed our train tickets and so we wondered why we even bought them. Then a guy comes around three stops before we are in Madrid and asks for our tickets. Of course, I can't find mine anywhere. So he makes me pay 3.50 euro to get back. Which, isn't that much but after the day we had just had, I completely lost it and just started balling in the train. Kind of a bummer of a day. But we got back and visited the Reina Sofia which has tons of awesome art by Picasso, Goya, Dali, and tons of others I'm forgetting now. The most impressive was probably Picasso's “Guernica”. It was so big and overwhelming. We spent the night at the hostel and had a few glasses of sangria and went to bed. In the morning, we found out we had a little too much sangria, and didn't feel the greatest, but we set out for Toledo to spend our last day.

Of course, there was the expected travel problems getting to Toledo, but we did finally make it, and while at a bus stop looking like idiots wondering how to get to the center, I asked a girl and she told us to take the bus she was on. Then when she got off she told us to follow her and she walked us basically right to the church we were looking for. She was SO nice, we couldn't believe our luck. Of course, she left us like 2 streets away from the church and we still got lost for 45 minutes. We got to the church of Saint Tome and saw the amazing work by El Greco, El Entierro de Senor Orgaz...or something along those lines. It was huge and truly stunning. We trekked through Toledo for a few more hours, it was a really adorable little town, with some great views. We had to make the 3.30 bus back to Madrid in order to make our bus home to Sevilla. ONCE AGAIN, we took the wrong bus back to the bus station and had to sprrrrrinnnntttt our butts in order to make the bus on time. Madrid did not want to make it easy on us, but we made a great weekend out of it anyway, and certainly some great stories that will be funny....someday.

Well as I suspected, this is getting to be a little long, and also I am way behind, so I will work on an entry about Semana Santa and Lagos that should be up soon! Sooner than this one at least. Things are just getting crazy here, trying to fit in everything that I can and I've got a “lot” of projects to do before school ends. Which, by the way, I have 13 days left of...holy shit right?? Granted, I have 5 weeks left here, but still....I have no idea where time has gone. I'm exhausted, good night!! Missing you all as always... <3