After five weeks in Spain, I had begun to worry that I was still too reliant upon other people to guide and encourage me in my travels. I had attended well-oiled trips put on by my program; orientation in Madrid, Cabo de Gata, Toledo and Sevilla - all wonderful experiences for which I had to do absolutely nothing but pack some clothes in a bag and climb onto a bus. Ok, so I found a bus and visited Las Alpujarras one weekend. Big whoop. Had I crossed the world just to meekly hide in my bedroom and travel no more? Was I afraid or just lazy?
Barcelona was such an amazing place; quirky, surprising and unbelievably diverse. Beyond the influence of Gaudí, this city reminds me of a metropolitan wonder land unlike anything Lewis Carroll could have cooked up. However, I need to be fair and credit some of my favoritism for Barcelona towards the trip itself. Barcelona was a landmark; the first place I’ve ever travelled outside of the country entirely on the tide of my own thirst for adventure. I recruited a couple of friends, researched the hostel, booked the flight, figured out all transportation, read a guidebook, picked up a map and took the city by storm.
While I wasn't alone - I had a pair of wonderful travel companions - I'm proud to say that this trip was my baby, and I planned and navigated almost exclusively. I guess you could say that I feel like I proved myself to myself in Barcelona. During our overnight stay in the Malaga airport, waiting for our early flight, I hunkered down in a cafe booth with a cup of coffee and Lonely Planet, and wrote down my own personal, day-by-day itinerary (sounds compulsive because it is, but the payoff? I felt like I did and saw all of the best of Barcelona by the time we left). I, someone with no natural sense of direction, wielded our tourist city map like a wizard, and when we had to plan our way back to the airport for 4 o clock in the morning (oh those cheap, painfully early morning flights), I called and booked the taxi, in Spanish. Besides a little difficulty finding the underground hearse museum, deciphering between Catalan (a hybridization of Spanish and French spoken in that region of Spain - weird), and sleeping in a dorm style hostel room with some very rude French students, I breathed a sigh of relief when we arrived back in Granada... my independent travel had gone off without a hitch. Barcelona made me feel young and alive and dauntless. I have the desire to experience the world - all I need to do is trust that I can fend for myself in the great blue world.
Barcelona was such an amazing place; quirky, surprising and unbelievably diverse. Beyond the influence of Gaudí, this city reminds me of a metropolitan wonder land unlike anything Lewis Carroll could have cooked up. However, I need to be fair and credit some of my favoritism for Barcelona towards the trip itself. Barcelona was a landmark; the first place I’ve ever travelled outside of the country entirely on the tide of my own thirst for adventure. I recruited a couple of friends, researched the hostel, booked the flight, figured out all transportation, read a guidebook, picked up a map and took the city by storm.
While I wasn't alone - I had a pair of wonderful travel companions - I'm proud to say that this trip was my baby, and I planned and navigated almost exclusively. I guess you could say that I feel like I proved myself to myself in Barcelona. During our overnight stay in the Malaga airport, waiting for our early flight, I hunkered down in a cafe booth with a cup of coffee and Lonely Planet, and wrote down my own personal, day-by-day itinerary (sounds compulsive because it is, but the payoff? I felt like I did and saw all of the best of Barcelona by the time we left). I, someone with no natural sense of direction, wielded our tourist city map like a wizard, and when we had to plan our way back to the airport for 4 o clock in the morning (oh those cheap, painfully early morning flights), I called and booked the taxi, in Spanish. Besides a little difficulty finding the underground hearse museum, deciphering between Catalan (a hybridization of Spanish and French spoken in that region of Spain - weird), and sleeping in a dorm style hostel room with some very rude French students, I breathed a sigh of relief when we arrived back in Granada... my independent travel had gone off without a hitch. Barcelona made me feel young and alive and dauntless. I have the desire to experience the world - all I need to do is trust that I can fend for myself in the great blue world.
Mercat de Plaça de Catalunya
Strolling down Las Ramblas, stopping to smell the tiny flowers.
Chocolate champiñones, part of a mind boggling selection of sweets in Mercat.
We met Aslan and some of his brothers in Plaça Carbonera (and of course we each
had to take a picture riding a lion).
had to take a picture riding a lion).
Port Vell at night; this boat is a part of the maritime museum collection -
we got to climb on board and explore.
we got to climb on board and explore.
Inside a beautiful little church that we happened to stumble upon, the Capella de Sant Cristófol.
Beneath the city, in the underground exposition of Museu d' História de la Ciutat;
the exposed ancient Roman ruins of Augusta Barcino.
the exposed ancient Roman ruins of Augusta Barcino.
Directly above the Roman ruins, another layer of Catalan history; la Capella Reial de Santa Agata.
The Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, completed in 1450.
Sepulcher of the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer I,
founder of the second Romanesque Cathedral (1058).
In the courtyard of the Barcelona Cathedral.
(There were also white geese in a little fenced in area, that was kind of random.)
(There were also white geese in a little fenced in area, that was kind of random.)
Eglésia de Santa Maria del Mar, built between 1329 and 1383 and situated in the swanky
La Ribera neighborhood (I just never get tired of Gothic cathedrals).
The crypt in Santa Maria del Mar was supposed to be closed, but I managed to pull the door open and went down anyway - turns out some guys about my age were using it to change before a
ceremony about to start in the chapel. Whoops. I asked them if they minded and they just
seemed to think it was funny. Anyway, I was very pleased with these photographs.
ceremony about to start in the chapel. Whoops. I asked them if they minded and they just
seemed to think it was funny. Anyway, I was very pleased with these photographs.
Looking out over the city from the entrance of Park Güell.
Whimsical designs by Gaudí in Park Güell.
Just outside the Museu Nacional D'Art de Catalunya - many tourists mistakenly go to the Museu Picasso because of the headliner name, but this is the collection to see in Barcelona.
Pieces seen while wandering through the Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque halls. Much of this collection was rescued from old churches before their destruction, and the stark contrast between these well aged religious works and the modernity of the museum's clean, white, modern walls is thrilling.
My favorite piece in the museum: Sacrifici d'Isaac by Giambattista Piazzetta (1714).
Upstairs in the modern art wing: Nen malalt (Octavi, fill de l'artista) by Ricard Canals (1903).
A pensive man in the Jardins Joan Macagall in Montejuïc, overlooking Barcelona.
Gaudí's Casa Batlló - we didn't go inside because it was 13 euro for student and we were all pretty broke at that point, but apparently the interior structure and embellishment is even more impressive.
In Casa Amatller (also along the famous Manzana de la Discordia on Passeig de Grácia)
this one by another Modernist architect, Puig i Cadafalch, completed in 1900.
Of course, what we've all been waiting for, the jewel of the Catalan Modernista movement; Antoni Gaudí's la Sagrada Família (Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, or the Basilica and Expiatory Church of the Holy Family). Begun in 1882, it is expected to reach completion in 2025. This was taken from the angle of the Nativity Façade.
Gaudí's Sagrada Família demonstrates both his mathematic genius, with geometric elements to the design, and his appreciation of nature, with columns and natural light that uncannily resemble a forest.
Inside la Sagrada Família: a church truly unlike any you've ever seen.
In the center of the church, a view of the ceiling and the four evangelists;
Juan (eagle), Mateo (angel), Marco (lion), Luca (bull).
On the door of the Passion Façade and the main entrance, Latin for 'what is truth?'
The austere, almost skeletal Passion Façade over the main entrance.
Museu de Carrosses Fúnebres: translation, our own personal basement hearse museum,
a deliciously eccentric, macabre collection of hearses dating from the 18th century.
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