Backpacking in Barcelona

When I arrived to Rome three weeks ago, I got a message from a cousin of mine that I haven't seen in almost ten years. She had an internship with a non denominational church in Barcelona, Spain and invited me to come visit. I am great at making impulse decisions when it comes to making myself wiser with experiences. The only doubt that I had was that I came to Europe with no phone plan. How was I going to travel to another country without data to use for google maps??

I always say that I am extremely talented at getting lost. I've lived in the same town for 3 years and I still occasionally have to use my GPS to get around. My generation has become so reliant on technology that it is almost scary. At first I was worried how I would get around and contact people, but then I thought.. how did my parents travel without phones? How did my grandparents travel without phones just 15ish years prior? A MAP!!! Yes, an old fashion map and word of mouth.

I made a spur of the moment decision and booked my flight to Barcelona, the capitol of Spain. Sometimes these spur of the moment decisions are just what I need to keep myself from becoming too comfortable. I packed a backpack, grabbed my camera, and headed to the airport. I arrived Saturday night and reunited with my cousin. She met me at Plaza Catalunya and then we rode a train to Les Planes where her house was. She was staying in a massive spanish house on a hill. One of her roommates was out of town visiting family in Greece, so I got a bed! (I honestly would have been happy sleeping on the floor)

She told me the dos and don'ts to Barcelona and sent me on my way to explore while she was at work. I started my day with visiting the Gothic Quarters. They were full of narrow and winding streets that led to local shops. The streets were full of character and personalization to the city. While walking around I found yellow ribbons everywhere. Come to find out, yellow ribbons are a symbol for protesting against the Spanish government. The yellow ribbon started being used in late October 2017 as a symbol of solidarity with the leaders of the two biggest pro-independence organizations, ANC and Omnium Cultural. I felt enlightened when educating myself on politics in another part of the world, a part of the world that I was a guest in.

After stopping for some local brewed beer and tapas, I walked around La Rambla. I was told to be extra careful on this street. It began to rain (this was a blessing since Europe had been going through a record breaking heat wave) and I found a bar with some live music to stop at to wait out the rain. I met a man named Gifty (this is a nickname/stage name gave himself; his actual name was Carl) and another man named Mozarc (this was actually his name). Gifty was from London and Mozarc was from New Mexico. We laughed about cultural differences and Gifty taught me the meaning of cheeky. In case you were wondering, to be cheeky is to be sly or sneaky. When the sun came back out, I wandered around some more.

My favorite part of Barcelona didn't reveal itself until the sun went down. Street performers came out of hiding and shared their talent with the tourist, like me. I probably admired a violin band for around 30 min. The violinist held his instrument in such a beautiful way. He played so intently that the strings on the bow were unraveling. Along his side was a man playing bass and another man playing guitar. The three men could have brought tears to me eyes. The full moon gave them a spotlight and the lights coming off of the magic fountain made for a breathtaking view. I didn't think it could get any better, but it did.

I found some pretty amazing views of the city and listened to a spanish man play Hallelujah on his keyboard until my train arrived.

Barcelona was a magical city; a city that gave me so much love. While overlooking the city, I felt like Barcelona was giving me a big hug and telling me "I've been waiting for you".

Adiós Barcelona!