Last weekend, Crosby, my brother, came to Barca for a few days to visit. Thursday night, we hit Plaza Real for a swanky dinner at Quintz Nitz then went to bed. The following day we got up relatively early because stupid Crosby had a 10-mile run, so I hopped on one of the city share bikes (Bicing) and we did a ride along the water. After a little breakfast and shower, we headed downtown to wander through Old Town and hit Bo d B (the best sandwiches in the world). After lunch, we headed over to Montjuic, the mountain in the city where the Olympic Venues are. We mostly just walked up the mountain and sweated our faces off. After realizing that it was still relatively early, we hopped in the metro and went over to the Ciutadella Park, a beautiful park by the water. After a cool afternoon beverage, we decided to return back to the apartment and take a little siesta before heading out to a tapas dinner in El Born.
The following day, Crosby had another run (this time 16 miles...what.) so I hopped on the Bicing and we headed up Montjuic and then along the water. The day's sightseeing included the Sagrada Familia, a little exploring of Gracia, Parc Guell (Gaudi's park up in the hills), and more sweating profusely. That night, Brett and Niki, friends from SF met us at the apartment for some vino and Nene's famous croquetas before we headed downtown for some dinner.
It was SO great to finally have Cros make it out to Barcelona. Though it was a short visit (only 2 days), we had a great time.
Throughout my last week in Barcelona, I was in denial that I was leaving. Some highlights included my last beach day, last minute errands, going to the Picasso museum, and eating way way way too much Bo d B. One of the hardest parts of the week, though, was saying goodbye to Nene, my homestay mom. I truly loved Spain, but if my living situation hadn't been so fantastic, I think I would have had a very different experience. I truly grew to love Nene and Juan Antonio and I'm certain that I'll see them again in the future.
It didn't really become entirely real that my time in Barcelona was over until I was finally at the airport this morning. The Spaniard was nice enough to get up eaaaarly to take me to the airport for my flight, only to have to experience my "I'm leaving Spain" meltdown. (Here comes some whining) My flight was miserable. In addition to having terrible food and uncomfortable conditions (standard for economy flying), the movies were terrible (this was just ONE of the three terrible selections http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1152398/). However, I did sit next to a fabulous gay Spanish guy named Oscar who told me he was certain that I would return to Spain (and then gave me the best hug ever. We're best friends). I guess not all bad. Now I'm killing time on my 5 and a half hour lay over in Toronto. Thank god for free airport Wifi.
My plan is to marinade the next few days and then post one last "Reflections" blog. Stay turned, I suppose.
Hasta.
Current obsessions: planning my life so it results in me moving to Barcelona. And that's IT.
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