Apparently we drink wine by the bottle now.
Barcelona – from the moment we stepped off the plane, it was obvious we were not in the United States anymore. I have a feeling we may not be able to truly appreciate Barcelona for what makes it unique because we are still in wonder at the, well, Europeaness of it all. I wonder if many of the things that endlessly intrigue, amuse and/or confuddle us now will eventually become routine, pedestrian. For example: the wooden elevator that escorts us to our residencio. The large door to our building that has a smaller door subset within. The scooters speeding around all over the city. The tiny cars, including two Smart cars so small they can fit into one combined space. The sounds of people chattering about in Catalon or Spanish. The sounds of ambulancias that I previously had only heard in the movies or in films from my international terrorism class. The products in the grocery stores, which look so familiar, yet in a foreign language. Coke Lite, instead of Diet Coke. Ordering some variation of coffee, and never knowing whether it will be an espresso shot or something a tad larger (but no where near tall, vente or grande). Speculating what might be on the menu, until the waiter takes pity on you and brings you the English version of the menu (and you learn what you speculated was dead wrong). Forgetting that 5 euros really isn’t 5 bucks. Endless streets filled with quaint buildings, with flower and laundry filled terraces. A store where you can get Chanel cosmetics on the first floor, and plain groceries on the second. The negative one floor. Bottles of wine cheaper than one glass of wine at home. Lack of prominent street signs on the street itself, instead being hidden – in small print – on the buildings. People gathered around the television in bars for futbol. Prevelance of smokers, including up to date cigarette machines (unfortunately). While we do have the curious constant sensation that we are in Europe, things are still very familiar. It is probably because Barcelona is a cosmopolitan, large city, and because you can actually get the menu in English if you want.
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| From Barcelona |
We love walking through the curving, winding streets and alleyways, and gazing at the unique architecture.
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| From Barcelona |
However, without a doubt, our favorite thing about Barcelona so far is the food. (Perhaps we should have made this a food blog, and then our obsession with food would be acceptable). We have received wonderful restaurant recommendations from the owner of the hostel where we are staying. The portions are noticeably smaller here, which is good because it all is so delicious. The portion size combined with walking should keep us in check. We hope.
We read that Spanish food is very simple, and puts the focus upon quality ingredients. We would agree with that. Every day for breakfast for the last three days, I have had freshly squeezed orange juice. One of our favorite lunches has been the lunch we had today at the market, simple sandwiches consisting of jamon serrano and manchengo cheese. (Okay, it was one of our favorites until a pigeon decided to poop on Sean’s sandwich, and we had to split mine instead).
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| From Barcelona |
Our dinners have been fantastic, each one better than the other. We’ve been dining the way the Spanish do, never eating before 9 or 10 p.m. So far we’ve had various tapas; ensaldas with creamy gorganzola cheese; two different dishes with sweet apples, one duck and one chicken; grilled tuna with olive oil and tomatoes; chocolate mousse with mascapone cream and crunchy tidbits; and always, a bottle or carafe of wine.
We already have had a change in our itinerary. We plan to stay in Barcelona through Monday, and are heading to San Sebastian, Spain, by bus. We’ll stay there for a few days, then we’ll be heading to Paris for about a week (squee!) to stay with our friend Matty, who is graciously letting us crash on the couch in his company-funded apartment while he is there for work. More to come about Barcelona in future posts.
The Big Apple Bust
When we realized that flying out of New York City was much cheaper than flying out of Pittsburgh, even factoring in the cost of the hotel, we jumped at the chance to make a quick return visit to the Big Apple. Truth be told, New York City was a bit of a bust this time around. In an effort to kick off our new adventurous, frugal style of travel, we decided to stay at the Jane in the West Village (http://www.thejanenyc.com/). I had heard about the Jane from a post on The Lost Girls’ website (www.lostgirlsworld.com). When we booked our room, we knew that the room would be small, bunk beds would be involved, and we’d have to use a shared bathroom outside the room. We were trying to just get something reserved, without having to do our normal advance research, and the reviews were good and the website was persuasively trendy. And really, everything was exactly as advertised. But reading that a room is 50 square feet in passing is different than actually taking a step inside.
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| From Departure and New York City |
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| From Departure and New York City |
Things had been good up to that point. The street leading up to The Jane was cobblestone, the lobby was awesomely vintage, and there was an antique elevator operated by an actual operator. Following the porter down the hall, I felt the familiar anticipation I always experience when I am about to view new accommodations for the first time. The porter opened the door to our room, and I entered first, Sean following. He ran into me when I stopped short, realizing that both of us could not stand inside the room together. The space situation was even worse once the backpacks involved.
Despite the lack of space, or most likely because of the lack of space, the room was exceptionally well designed, with hooks on the wall to hang your possessions, and a personal TV at the end of each bunk bed. The shared bathroom, located down the hall, was clean and full of black and white tile. I was having flashbacks to college, what with the bunkbeds and random half dressed strangers in the bathroom.
The biggest problem compounding the space issue was the constant downpour outside. The rain frequently blew sideways, causing many New Yorkers to abandon their useless, inside-out umbrellas on the street. On the plus side, we determined our Gortex shoes and jackets really did work as advertised. At one point, we caved and got a cab to take us across town to my favorite New York bagel shop, only to discover upon arrival that it was closed for Passover. I was planning to be consoled by a black and white cookie I purchased to eat later, only to discover on the plane that the cashier gave me a completely different type of cookie. The rain also caused us to forgo exchanging the defective camera filter we had ordered online from a camera shop in New York, rationalizing that it really wasn’t that broken anyway. We did manage to get some tasty New York style pizza, paired with Magnolia Bakery cupcakes for dessert. (As a side note, Vanilla Pastry Studio cupcakes in Pittsburgh are still my favorite).
However, things are looking up in Europe. We have a five hour layover in Brussels. The layover itself is not fun, except for the abundance of waffles and Belgian chocolate for sale in the airport. I am focusing on this, instead of the coke and oj we just purchased for 7 euros, pretending it is morning instead of the middle of the night, and the lack of free wifi in the airport.
Here’s hoping it is sunny in Spain!