I'm sitting in a teeny tiny room with beds that apparently fold out of the walls. Luckily I have 1 young woman who seems to speak English and 2 young guys who I think are from Germany or Scandanavia or maybe Holland or maybe France (they're playing Uno and that's kind of a universal game). I'll figure it out eventually. I was a little worried I would end up with someone weird or creepy but so far so good.
My last day in Barcelona was excellent. I realized I never posted a pic of where I was staying so the 1st one is a bonus for you. I spent my last night eating a small dinner (alone at a bar with minimal anxiety) and went to bed early. That allowed me to get up early this a.m. and go for a fabulous run along the beach. I wish I could have done that every morning!
I wandered around old city a bit after breakfast and then hopped the metro to see yet another Gaudi design - Park Guell. It's located in the hills outside the city and felt a little like San Fran. Barcelona, however, installed some escalators to help out with the climb. I am a bit obsessed with Gaudi. I love his mosaic style (even on curved surfaces), his focus on natural elements, and the general "fantasy" nature of his designs. It's a little like Candyland to me.
After that I just wandered some more and ate in preparation for my 12 train ride tonight. I had another delicious crepe (this time with spinach, goat cheese, chorizo and honey), a glass of wine and then made my way back to the beach to get yogurt and honey and rasberry mouse gelato. Mmmmm.
Without meaning to I think I was walking around with a semi-smile on my face as I took in the last of Barcelona. It led to some interesting interactions. There was the gorgeous man with the guitar on his back who smiled at me and when I turned around to watch him as he walked the opposite direction he was looking back at me as well. Then there was Romeo (from Spain or maybe France) who called me "guapa" and then tried to talk to me. I understood nothing he said other than guapa, his name, his # and that I should call him tomorrow. (Yeah, right). Then, an older gentleman gave me a rather loud "Hello!" and a little middle eastern looking man whispered "sexy" as I walked by. Apparently I shouldn't walk around content/happy. (I also shouldn't wear dresses...did I mention the "compro oro" man in Madrid who yelled out "ay mama!" as I walked by him? Hahaha). I guess if I'm walking down the street drenched in sweat, covered in dirt/dust, and wearing plain ol' clothes it's flattering to get all that attention, right?
And that's that. In 12 hours I'll be waking up in Paris and beginning my week with Margeau of posh accomodations, shopping and a bit of pampering and indulging. That's what Paris is for, right? I can't wait to see the look on the hotel receptionist's face when I stroll in with my backpack. Ha!
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