Barcelona – July 10th, 2009.

Sore neck. Sore body. No voice. Liver badly badly damaged. Dead.

This is how I arrive in Barcelona. And then realise I have to travel on the metro at peak hour to the hostel. But for some reason its at least 30-40 minutes from the centre of Barca. Weird. And its becauses of a big metal festival on over the weekend all rooms seem to be booked out and this was the only place I could get.

As I am walking from the Metro stop to the hostel, I go past a cafe that has the bull run going on. But its still about 30 minutes to go and I am too tired to sit and watch on. So I go up the massive hill to the hostel. Checking in is a breeze and they even show me to my room at 7:30 in the morning. Weird. I thought I was going to be crashing on a couch.

I clamber into bed as everyone is getting up and nod off. The week that was, was a little hectic so I am just gonna sleep it off for a bit.

After a good half day nap, I get up and send off a few emails to let people back home know I am safe and not dead. Little did I know that when looking at news sites, a poor spaniard had been gored to death. On further insepction, he was gored through the collarbone on the stretch of road that I was running down yesterday. It puts things into perspective of how lucky I really am to have survived the run. I quickly send some emails off to let everyone know I’m ok. Mum’s response was “Thanks for telling me after, I would of worried otherwise”. Should of been pretty obvious by the fact I was going.

Anyway after a bit more lounging around, I get my things together and hit Barcelona up. I grab my trusty old baguette with some meat and cheese from the grocery store and head off. After a fairly long ride on the metro into town I arrive at Catalunya.

I step off the metro into my first Barcelona experience – Placa Catalunya. A big square in the middle of the town. That is the start of Las Ramblas. So I sit down on a bench and make myself some lunch whilst enjoying a homeless person scanning through the bins. And the other people around.

There is an abundance of tourists around. More than I’ve experienced thus far. But I guess this is what most people come to Espana for. Apart from the tourists, this place is full of flying rats – pigeons. Quite disgusting.

Praca Catalunya.

Placa Catalunya

I then make my way down Las Ramblas – it’s basically the main street in Barca. Its Oxford or Champs Elysee. It is packed to the rafters. It has 2 roads down eiter side and a big median strip lined with trees and street performers aplenty – from weird looking painted guys to jugglers and a man taking a crap. Not to mention stalls galore.

Las Rambals

Las Ramblas.

I stumble onto an Aussie pub, grab a pint of beer and watch a bit of the 1st ashes test match – and it looks like we’re in a comfortable position at the moment. Before going a bit further down the street.

I hit the end of Las Ramblas and standing in front is the huge Columbus monument. You can actually climb up to the top, at a price, so I just stare from below. You can see that he is pointing to something, most people think he is pointing to the America’s but in reality he is actually pointing to where he thinks he will find India.

Columbus Monument.

Columbus Monument.

Its not long til I am at Port Vell (a massive wharf precient. There are a tonne of yachts around. I mean every which way I look all I see is Masts after Masts. I stumble on a havianna’s store and buy a replacement pair of thongs and head back to cruise the streets of the Barri Gothic area.

Port Vell

Port Vell

This is the old district of Barcelona, and its got that feel to it. I stumble on a dirty and boring plaza, before stumbling on Cathedral de Barcelona. Though not spectacularly pretty or anything like that, it has a pretty cool cloister area with palm trees, ponds and birds galore.

The cloisters in Cathedral De Barcelona.

Cloisters of the Cathedral

I make my way back to Las Ramblas – getting lost in the tiny streets of the Barri Gothic and finally get a metro back to the hostel.  On my way back up the hill, I grab some food from Lidl and cook up some pasta and chill uot with a few beers before finally crashing out.

Self Portrait on Las Ramblas.

Self Potrait on Ramblas

Sometime during the night an arrogant dick, thinks its completely fine to turn the light on at 3pm in the morning when other people in the room are awake- Despite telling him so he takes his time and fucks around doing god knows what. I hate people who don’t have good dorm ettiquite, its rather fucking rude – Karma is a bitch.

This entry was published on October 28, 2009 at 10:45 am. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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