Getting Grasp

Published on July 16, 2003 in Spain

 What an eventful day!!  So, I don't even know where to begin, where the adventure starts, where the insomnia blurs with reality in some dizzying haze of some thingness.  

We left the airport after getting some change an finding our bags.  Although my father and his girlfriend think that I'm not competent, everything (finding the baggage reclaim in Spanish, getting change from an ATM, getting smaller bills for the bus, getting on the right bus) ans so forth was quite easy.  We jumped on the A1 and headed for Cataluna (spelled wrong I'm sure).  I asked the bus driver to alert us at the spot, and he did.  First thing on the agenda: find some food.

We stopped at a little pizza place off of Cataluna Place and got some food,   quite enjoyable.  Four cheese pizza we both had, and some water.

Having food in our stomachs we were able to brave the next adventure: finding our hostel.  But first, to find the Cafe Zurich.  Not knowing where to go  we bought a map, and ask a vendor person where "donde esta Cafe Zurich?"  She mumbled some things and pointed the other direction.  Two minutes later we were standing at a cafe with hundreds of other people.  We spread our map, found out where we were, and headed out.  It is maybe 9:00 now, and we have no clue where to go.  We head ff in what we th ink is the right direction.

One exclamation I will make about Spain, or at least Barcelona, is that the streets are very poorly labeled.  They are opposite from what we use in the states, and the smaller streets are only listed on the sides of buildings, if at all.  A while later I asked Ashley where w were, she pointed, and I said I don't think so.  WE had walked along this main boulevard just a few too many blocks, and were down by the harbor.  Walking back I borrowed the map and gave it a try.  silly map wasn't really right!!  The amazing thing is that some mail streets on the map were little one lane roads, which made finding our hostel quite a pain.  We stumbled down a street that both of us thought was right, asking one vendor where the hostel was.  He pointed, and we found a sign that said: "hostel residencia"  That must be it, right?  Nope, walked to the top of a five story building and no such luck.  Let me speculate on the weather.  At about 10:00pm it is hot, not scorching hot but make you sweat when you walk around with a big pack hot.  We found a place.  In a dysfunctional discussion the guy tried to get us to stay there, but we stood stiff.  It wasn't our hostel, and that is what we wanted.  I asked for the address and we immediately noticed that we were on the wrong street.  The map entirely portrayed the situation wrong!  After locating the right street we were both relieved to see a hotel with lots of people in it, and our reservation awaiting us.  Checked in, put our bags down, and ran back to Cafe Zurich to met our friend.  We were four minutes late.

Sibyls seems to have been having the time of her life, she was tan, and knew the city pretty darn well.  We jumped on the metro (I snuck in) and took it to some random part of town.  The club/bar was closed.  Now, adding to the situation, I had not slept for over 3 hours in five days.  We found some other little place that was hopping at 1:00am on a tue. night, and got a few drinks (with two of Ashley's friends), the local beer was really pretty good, and Ashley and I stumbled unknowingly home, the beer boosting our ability to navigate the streets.

I showered, watched part of a Spanish movie with the host-lady, curled up into bed, and slept for 7 1/2 hours.  And the new day beckons!  We are off to find food, and whatever adventure lies on that path.

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