Adios, Espanya!

Well, last day in Barcelona, or Spain for that matter! And just in case you are planning to mail me "that's not how you spell España!", well that's how you spell España in Catalan, the obscure language they speak here. Just when I thought I had figured out some basic Spanish words (adios, calle, avenida), it's all different again (adeu, carrer, avinguda).

Well, Barcelona is quite nice, even though very touristy. And full of just-out-college kids whose main aim is to get as drunk as possible on La Rambla, the main strip of Barcelona. I got persuaded one night by 6 Welsh girls and one American guy to go out on said La Rambla, which included dancing to a lot of Europop (including a very catchy tune whose sole lyrics consist of "Barbra Streisand". Look it up, it's by "Duck Sauce"). Sorry, no pictures, my cellphone had conveniently died right before :)

Lots of problems with theft though here, which sucks because you're constantly clinging to your belongings. While waiting to get a train reservation (more on that) I even had a 5-year old kid trying to get his hands on my phone, all "jokingly" of course (haha, I'm a kid who wants to play!), but the mother was watching the proceedings from afar, and I'm sure that once the kid had his hands on my phone he would have made a run for it, the mother protecting him, and me not wanting to desert my big bags. Kinda sad that 5-year olds get reeled into this.

But yeah, the train reservation. I don't necessarily want to drag out stereotypes here, but damn, I'm not particularly surprised the country's economy is in shambles. All I needed was a seat reservation for the trains to Nice, but believe it or not, I had to wait a full 3 hours to get that. They had a number system (with an old guy whose job it was to pull the paper ticket from the machine and hand it to you), and then you look at the display and realize that the current number being processed is 513, but you got number 692.

BTW, stereotypes are amazing how well they work. For the majority of people you can almost immediately tell where they're from. Over 40 and leathery skin? Spanish. Pudgy? Either American or British. (if girl, and also wears pajama-looking clothes: clearly British). Oh, and of course: Sitting with beer at cafe, arguing with waiter over bill items? German!

Hmm, what else? Flamenco! I went into a Flamenco bar and I have to say, very cool. I always thought that Flamenco was mostly about guitar music and stern-looking women who wave their arms a lot, but not so! I never knew about the whole tap-dancing element to it. I uploaded a video, see below in the pictures.

Other than that, I did of course most of the touristy stuff (Sagrada Familia, Montjuïc etc), haven't made it to the beach yet though, and I might not after all. Maybe I will go to it in Nice. There's also the problem that you can't really go alone, because your stuff will get stolen if you leave it alone at the beach.

Tomorrow is travel day to Nice then, which means today I will stay in the hostel and prepare stuff (laundry etc.). I'm also wicked tired today, and I don't feel like going anywhere anyway.

Cheers,

Ralf

( direct album link )