Hasta la vista Barça

So Wednesday night I didn't get more than 2 and half hours' sleep, not b/c I was out partying. No, insomnia hit me hard when I could least afford it. However, I thought I'd push on with my programme for Thursday despite not sleeping the night before. The day started with a tour of Picasso's haunts when he lived in Barcelona at the end of the 19th century. It was very interesting and while it's true that Picasso's family stayed in Barcelona long after he left for Paris, I think Barcelona is making too much of its connection with Picasso. He was in the city for about 2 years and it was while he was still a schoolboy, so the works he did there were not that significant. He was merely familiarising himself with artistic convention, so that he could eventually break with those conventions and develop cubism. The tour ended up at Picasso museum, but I decided not to enter b/c it was such a wonderful day and I wanted to make the most of it.

I first visited the outstanding Modernista buildings before heading for the beach. On the way to the beach I bought the most heavenly ice-cream: chocolate, pistachio and coffee. The beach was great and the surfers pathetic especially if one considers how small the waves they were trying (unsuccessfully) to ride were. I spent about an hour at the beach coming to terms with just how tired I was, but I couldn't stop, there was still so much I needed to see. So I took a bus to the Plaça d'Espanya to check out impressive Palau Nacional, the Olympic stadium and the surrounds. Incidentally it is here that I found the strange warning sign below.

To finish off the day of sightseeing I visited the arena in which bull fights took place. It was wonderful and since it was within walking distance of the La Sagrada Familia, I made my way over there to have one last look at it before taking a bus back to my room for a short nap. To my chagrin the nap didn't happen and this on the night when it was my last chance to go out. Princesa 23 (my Barça haunt) was celebrating Women's Day with welcoming and cheap drinks. Very reluctantly I made my way over there and ordered my first Mojito. The first thing I noticed was that they were not shy with the alcohol. My Mojito was basically rum with crushed mint and lemon and a spritz of carbonated water on ice. It tasted great and it was a great pleasure watching the barman and the flare with which he russled up each drink. I found myself sitting next to the only guy at the bar and we started chatting. I can't remember what his name was, but he was Senegalese and had been living in Barcelona for the last six years. I ordered my second drink a Caipiroska (basically a Caipirihna with strawberry pulp). It was great so when mr. Senegal asked if I would go with him to a bar where they were playing live music, I readily agreed. We ended up at Harlem Jazz Club (around the corner from where I stayed) and the music was great. The band played something like jazz fusion and afterwards they played Orishas (a Cuban band, living and making music in France - in Spanish of course). I danced the night away with the mr. Senegal and his mates. I was on Malibu and coke, but again they practically filled the glasses with Malibu and only adding the coke for colouring. When I finally got round to asking what the time was, it was 3am and since I hadn't slept the night before and still have a full day of shopping and sightseeing the next day, I decided it was time for me to go home. Mr. Senegal implored me to join him the next evening for some live Senegalese music at the same club, but since I couldn't be reached via phone and I had other priorities, I didn't feel I needed to honour my promise to meet up with him again.

After too brief a sleepy, I had to be up the next morning to move out of my 2 star accommodation into a 4 star hotel. The hostal (different from a youth hostel in that they don't have dorms) I was staying at couldn't accommodate me for my last night in Barcelona, so I thought I would treat myself on the last night with a room which had a TV and my own bathroom. After I'd moved into my new room and taken a shower, I hit the shops hard. It was just so nice not to be subjected to the rigorous programme I'd put myself through the previous two days. I decided that I was my worse enemy and that I should give myself a break instead of pushing so hard. I ambled between shops acquired a pair of shoes, a bikini top and accessories. In between I had time to go up a column (similar to the one on Trafalgar Square) at the harbour to get a more panoramic view of Barcelona as well as a visit the Picasso museum. After this I successfully managed to get two hours' sleep before heading out to Princesa 23 for a cocktail and dinner and a Flamenco performance. My guidebook said that the Flamenco I was about to see would be cheesy and I thought to myself, how bad could it be since I haven't seen that much Flamenco. To my surprise, I noticed the dancing wasn't that good, but the singing and music was excellent. The singer was a real character and people (read: tourist, cause locals wouldn't be caught dead in such a place) were invited onto the stage to join in. It was very enjoyable and I returned to my hotel room satisfied and content.

The next morning I was up early to catch my plane back to Brussels. However, before boarding I bought another pair of shoes...I'm weak, I knew I shouldn't buy at the airport b/c things are just horribly expensive there, but these were good shoes and I was prepared to pay the price for them, so I couldn't see any harm being done. There was also a scary couple of minutes when we were flying over the Pyrenees mountains. We got into some serious turbulence. I've never been scared on a plane before but our little aeroplane was rattled around so much that I couldn't shake the feeling that things could go seriously wrong. It was smooth flying after that and I for one was grateful that we had a skillful pilot, who got us through that turbulence.

My last word on Barcelona is a reference to the soundtrack to my Barcelona trip. I listened mostly to Maroon 5's Songs for Jane and The best of Depeche Mode. I'm sure without these great albums, my trip wouldn't have been half as good and whenever I listen to them I'll also remember the great time I had on my very first holiday all alone in Barcelona...may it be the start of many enjoyable trips on my own.