This is my second visit to Barcelona. In college, my roommates and I bought $89 round-trip airline tickets from Chicago to Spain on British Airways. They left off a $0 conveniently off their intended price, and we did stints in Barcelona, Madrid and Toledo. Barcelona was my favorite, so when my friend Andrew wanted to do Barcelona I was thrilled!
The biggest destinations for Barcelona are of course the Gaudi sites. Besides doing repeat visits to Sagrada Famila, Parc Guell and Casa Mila, I also visited Casa Batllo this time.
Casa Batllo has an audio tour guide, and it’s great to get the background and narration in
Casa Batllo
English. The best part about audio tours is that they don’t let Americans narrate audio tours. Ever. Europeans, Canadians and Australians do not want narration from people whose country has been around since 1776 to tell them shit about anything cultural. We consider anything around more than 100 years old. Their centuries-old buildings are built on aqueducts that were there Before Christ, so when America gets to be that old too, then we can narrate audio tours. Until then, the British get to narrate.
Casa Batllo is narrated by a man and a woman, whom I’ve decided to call “Nigel” and “Nancy.” Nigel and Nancy are fond of really big words and declarative statements.
“Prepare yourself for one of the most spectacular rooms you’ll ever enter.”
Top of Sagrada Familia
Actually, Nigel it’s not. It’s great. I’d rate it a solid six and maybe seven out of ten, but maybe you should narrate the Sagrada Familia tour before making such statements.
Nigel speaks, and then Nancy speaks. I suspect that they’re trying to out do each other with their narration. And that their is a bit of sexual tension between Nigel and Nancy. But overall, Casa Batlla is rather spectactular. But I won’t give Nigel and Nancy the satisfaction of telling them so.
My friend Grace has asked her friend Katherine to put together some recommendations for Andrew and I. They look spectacular, and I’m eager to try them. I go to the first one, Xampternia, by myself. It is a tapas and Spanish cava (champagne) bar.
Going to bars by myself terrifies me. I don’t know why. It doesn’t have a skill set that I don’t possess. Drinking? Check. Eating? Got that in spades. The ability to talk to other people? What I lack in conversational ability, I make up in really loud volume. I can always stare at my iPhone, which is what I do in America when I should actually be looking people in the eye.
I go by myself, and I drown the cava at a rapid clip as I feel awkward. So I leave and walk around
Amazing musuem I visited
until I find an Irish pub. A guy sits down next to me with a Jude Law accent. I, as all American women, are a sucker for this strain of British accent. I listen to him chat to the bartender, and at one point ask which of the Scandinavian countries is the most famous outside of Europe.
As we all know my beliefs on Ikea and H&M, I declare Sweden to be the most well known. Jude Law accent, or James, and I start to chat. He’s really interesting and went to boarding school at the age of 8, which is inconceivable to me. He also traveled all around South America and Africa, and was living around the corner in Barcelona. Fascinating guy. But he kept mentioning cocaine. And while I lean left politically, my stance towards drugs is definitely a Reagan era, “Just Say No.” So I leave.
Castle at the top of the tram
Besides drinking and talking to people, one of the other things I did that frightens me is get on a Gondola/Tram that takes you up Mont Juic. I hate Gondolas. They shake. You get stuck. I cried several years ago when I was on one of them that got stuck over a ravine in Aspen. Like all things that scare you, they are often what is most worth undertaking. The view is spectacular, and you can see Barcelona to the city limits. I wish I were facing my fears at a more rapid clip, but I am on my own in Europe for 3 months, so maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself.
I did a slew of other activities too, but I’ll spare you the narration. The frustrating/exhilarating part is that I never feel like I can saturate most of the cities enough, no matter how much I cram in. But that means I’m leaving with desire to come back and further conquer. So one day, I will visit Mont Serrat.
