Everything shuts on weird days…

Barcelona – 13th July, 2009.

So after I bid farewell to the coastie girls I make my way to the metro via the supermarket. And I make my way into town.

I make my way to the Arc De Triomf. It is a huge arc, pretty much in the same vain as the very famous one in Paris. I think a lot of cities try to steal something from there. But this is a cool looking arc with a spanish flavour to it. Its also not as packed as the one in Paris and there aren’t any cars to mow you down.

Arc De Triomf

Arc De Triomf

After that I head towards the Parc De La Citudella which is basically the Hyde Park of Barcelona. Its a pretty cool park with lots of greenery and space. A cool fountain and some awesome buildings but it doesn’t have the effect that Hyde Park had on me on Christmas morning. Though hyde park didn’t have a Mammoth!

Mammoth!

Mammoth!

I decide to leave the park and make my way to Montjuic (a forrested hill area and Home of the Olympic site) via the Skyway from Barcelonetta. However I after sweating it to Barcelonetta, I am told that the Skyway doesn’t operate on Mondays. Shit!

A quick metro ride later and I am at Placa Espana. Which gives you a great view of the Museo Nacional D’Art de Catalunya. There is a massive fountain in the middle that at nights lights up with a colourful fireworks display (unfortunately for me it only happens thurs to sunday and I missed it).

The view from the Espana up to the Museu

The view from Espana up to the Museu

I make my way up to the top of the hill, thank fully the Spaniards are creative and installed escalators up to the top. Once at the top, the Museum is shut too. But you get some amazing views of Barcelona. So I head around to the Olympic Park, and run into a couple I met at Pamplona who couldn’t get out when I left and got their stuff stolen (that sucks balls).

Halfway to the top.

Halfway to the top.

view

View from the top.

The 1992 Olympics were held in Barcelona, it seems an age ago, but it was the very first Olympics that I can actually remember – whether that be the archer who shot an arror to light the cauldron or Perkins winning the 1500m. It still lingers in my memory. And to be at the site of the games is something unbelieveble.

olympic

The main gates of the Olympic Stadium.

Going around the precint was rather cool. You had some amazing views of the city below. And it also makes you realise how far Stadiums have come along. I rather like these old style stadiums – there is something about them. You can actually go inside the stadium, on one of the levels through the main entrance gate and it has a brief outline of the stadium itself – it still plays host to soccer games and athletic championships.

inside

Inside the stadium, cauldron in the background.

I go to visit the olympic museum, but as usual, its shut on a monday. So I head back to the hostel and grab a six pack on the way up. I end up meeting a Kiwi slash American and we go out into town that night. We meet his friend at the Australian pub, and then they’re starving and go to find a tapas bar. So I just decide I’ll drink as I’ve had dinner at the hostel. We all order massive steins thinking thats the best. That is til we get the receipt, it actually cost us 12 euros each for a stein.

We try to find a cheaper bar, but go to a cocktail bar that seems a bit pretentious, then find a really cool tobacco club that is actually pretty cool. But everyone wants to go. So since the metro is shut, we have to take the nightbus.

expensive beer

Most expensive beer I have had! But it was so good.

This is where things get a little interesting. We want to get off at our stop, so we keep a look out and try to find it. Though 40 minutes later, we’re told to get off the bus. Once we figure out where the hell we are, which is miles away, we decide to walk in a direction, Just hoping it is going to take us there. We stop every so often to figure out if we’re going in the right direction.

Where the fuck are we?

Where the fuck are we?

We eventually hit the street that our metro is on, and let out a big whoop. And start making the climb up to the top of the hill. Just outside the hostel we run into some other people from the hostel. And one very drunk and very happy danish guy. Dressed in a tiny tiny bikini. Obviously he had a good night. We talk to them for a bit, and then I bail and hit the sack.

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This entry was published on October 29, 2009 at 12:21 pm. 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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