19. Barcelona, How You Doin'? (Joey Style)

Mostly I just want to uncomfortably hit on Barcelona all day. Not the people, but the place. Just make it super uncomfortable until it asks me to leave.

Alright fine, that's not a good first impression, so I'll just give it a huge smile and big old hug.

Let's start where we must, at the beginning. I couldn't sleep last night. No shit, I was going to be in Barcelona in 10 hours. What that means is that I am currently going on fumes and have been up for 35 hours straight. These 35 hours included the following:

1. Laying in bed for 7 hours thinking about losing my passport or being robbed

2. Waking up and being sure that once I closed the door to the place in Dublin, with access to any part of the building locked inside, my passport would be behind that door and I would be el screwed

3. You guys, I have an unreasonable fear of losing my passport

4. I get on the plane and realize that the weird movements that the woman in front of me has been making are in fact her plucking, with tweezers, her chin hairs, one by one... for over an hour... you guys...

5. RyanAir is so budget that they walk up and down the aisles with scratch lottery cards (not the good ones) and coupons, three separate times during the flight, and it's announced over the dollar store microphone in Spanish and English each time

6. The worst behaved kid I have ever seen, paired with a younger screaming baby, paired with old dude refusing to put his seatbelt on and the flight attendant literally saying, "Sir, I am going to stand here until you put your seatbelt on."' 

And let's not forget good old Chinny McHairplucker. I feel like that deserves a revisit.

That was just the two hour flight. I then managed to get on the correct bus to Plaza Catalunya. Then I proceeded to get lost, and then found, and then lost again, and then I found the place I was supposed to be. I'm becoming a damn pro at being lost, which, if you know me, is a good turn of events.

Point is, I got here, if not with a slightly distressed call to the poor AirBNB hosts, and the place is just lovely.

These are just some random shots of this afternoon, during which time I was surely lost. Not to worry, I was then found. (I'm eating the best salted cashews of my life while I type this. Good thing they're the nuts with the most possibly fat crammed into them...)

This street became the bane of my existence today. I could-not-find-the-damn-thing! I just wanted to spend my afternoon wandering the Picasso Museum, but no, ignorant old me doesn't speak Spanish (I seriously want to learn, Spanish sounds badass!), so while I was sweating all of the sweat in life (yeah sure, fine, I lived in Bermuda and it was hotter for sure, but I'm only two hours removed from Dublin, where the temperature, I assure you, was nowhere near 33°c), it turns out that I was in fact ALREADY WALKING DOWN the right street. You see, folks, I'm tired, I'm a non-proud unilingual, and I'm just saying, these streets are not marked well!

After all of that walking, and realizing, and huffing and puffing, I needed something cold. I muddled my way through, "Cold thing please..." with the wonderfully patient woman at the popsicle stand, and enjoyed the living hell out of this thing.

This was my view during the living hell eating of that popsicle. The Barcelona Catherdal. It's clearly stunning. I paid €6 and went inside too. Those pictures come after some more shots of the beautiful exterior.

At that point I didn't have time to spend the right amount of time at the Picasso Museum (and let's be honest, I couldn't find that street again...), so I accidetapurposefully (new word) ended up by the water.

I'd walked by a restaurant right near there that had an interesting set up. A restaurant as expected in most cases, but a patio also set up across the way in a big cement area. I've realized after walking around more, that this is extremely common here. Love it. 

I ordered the T-bone steak. Look at is thing. It was really, really good! I don't think I could have started off with a better meal in Barcelona. I'm sure there are many more meals to come that will outdo it. Fingers crossed.

My eyes are currently not allowing me to spend more time on this, so I have to cut it off. The good news is that tomorrow is longer and I will be running on some fuel in the form of sleep and proper food. Personally, I can't wait. 

Tomorrow will likely include Segrada Familia, La Boqueria and the Picasso Museum. We'll see what I can manage. And then the next day, I'm pretty sure my plan is to take whatever form of transit I have to, to get to Dali's house. His actual (was his actual) house. That's the super exciting part for me! I hope I can make it happen.

Until tomorrow!

PS. It is soooooo great to have internet back! I was debilitated without it, which is terrible, I know. Anyhow, all smiles now.