Item #19 - Visit Barcelona

"En Espanol, my nickname es El Tigre!"   -Senor Chang!

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When it comes to grad school, being an engineer is the way to go. I spent 2 years at Purdue, and after getting hooked up with the right program and the right professor, I basically had a free ride after my first semester (like most grad school engineers). Tuition and about $1400 per months stipend (and while that may cover rent about little else in Boston, in West Lafayette, I could live like a king in the land of country bumpkins. The Coors Light flowed like water).

In my last semester there, my professor was undergoing a project with some of his undergrads.The students worked on a design project in parallel with a similar team from the Dublin Institute of Technology, with the final goal being a pair of presentations in Dublin. Somehow, I got tabbed to be the grad student adviser to the team of undergrads. And somehow, when the time came for the aforementioned presentations, there was leftover money in the budget for me to tag along with the team to Ireland. And like the last 3/4 of grad school, the trip was completely free. Granted, it was 4-to-a-room-in-a-hostel free, but considering I had never been out of North America, that was cool with me.

So we went. We drank Guinness.  We toured around. We drank Guinness.  We gave the presentations. We drank Guinness. You get the picture (seriously, Guinness is cheaper than Bud Light there. Up is down. Black is white. . . ).  And after having explored Dublin for 5 days, one of the other students and I hopped over to London for a 24 hour whirlwind extravaganza, seeing every tourist trap along the Thames we could fit into a single day.

When the trip wrapped up though, and I got back the The WL (as the cool kids call it (note: no actual cool kids exist in West Lafayette)), and I processed the week, while I certainly had a great time, I was left thinking . . . that didn't FEEL like Europe. Dublin was kind of like visiting Frankenmuth, Michigan.  Cool. Relatively quaint.A different culture, but not THAT different.  Dublin just happened to be, ummm, authentic. And London (at least the heart of it) was basically like visiting New York City, but with much cooler, and less-douchey, accents.  In both cases, I never really felt like I was out-of-place, and for some reason, I realized I actually wanted that feeling. Up to that point, the most out-of-place I had ever been was in Cozumel, Mexico, and that was just 1 day on a cruise, and in a very touristy area (though our cab driver did take us to La Casa de Putas. I guess my American joke/sarcasm didn't translate). I wanted to experience being abroad, and Dublin and London just didn't give me that out-of-place experience (I probably should have worn a George W shirt the whole time I was there. I think might have worked and drawn some European glares)

Fast forward to 4 weeks ago, and I randomly got my chance, thanks to a friend (Yaneeka) traveling to Barcelona for work. Friend #2, Buddy, was heading over to meet her (and eventually friend #3 Ryan would too). They invited me, and after first checking to make sure FC Barcelona (the local soccer team) was playing at home, which they were, I checked flights. And with a free hotel room, how could I not say no to a 4 day Barcelona vacation for just the cost of a $650 flight? Thus, a mere 9 days after booking the flight, I was finally able to make it to mainland Europe, truly be an American abroad, and add a list item I totally expect expect to actually happen.

I could give a play-by-play of the entire trip here, but that's probably the modern day equivalent of showing off vacation slides with a projector to your neighbors in the 60's. And since I can't supply you, the lovely reader, with enough wine/beer/absinthe to get through that, if you want to check out my entire trip, you can see the whole Picasa gallery here (with the exception of the soccer game, which gets its own post later). Otherwise, some random thoughts on my new favorite city:

• This is one of the first times I got sticker shock on something being INexpensive. I expected to be raped by the exhange rate while staying in a ritzy Mediterranean city. And while it wasn't stellar ($1 = 0.7 euro), the prices in Barcelona kind of made up for it. 10 subway rides for about $13. The dress shoes I bought for the soccer game (again, to be explained later) were $70. And the fancy tapas meal we had probably cost less than Tasca on Comm Ave in Brighton. Comparatively, a very cost-effective trip.
• Cleanest . . . city . . . ever. Granted were stayed in tourist central, but everywhere we went was clean. And while we were warned a little about pickpockets, I never felt unsafe. 
• You could have survived not knowing a lick of Spanish, but it helped to know the basic stuff that I did know. But what was great was that NOT knowing a certain word or phrase didn't automatically get a look of disdain from the locals.  On the other hand, I spent 3-4 hours on a layover in Paris, and EVERYONE gave off the "silly uneducated American, get out of my country" vibe. I now have no need to ever visit Paris, and I have no problem basing that on a layover. Damn cheese-eating surrender monkeys.

 And a few random picture highlights:

LOVED the architecture. It seemed like every single building had a balcony with metal railing, which gave it that old-timey-euro feel, which London and Dublin didn't have. My new beautification plan for Detroit isn't to tear down all the abandoned buildings. Costs too much. Just add balconies to everything. Second floor, first floor, basements, whatever. More balconies! They just announced a $200+ million renovation for Cobo Hall in Detroit? Should have just spent $1 million and lined the outside with balconies.

 

The one semi-lame scenery picture . . . but I love it, so deal with it. When I pictured Mediterranean Europe beforehand, I pictured the aforementioned balconies,and the cityscape with mountains behind it. Getting up Montjuic gave me my moneyshot. And note the sign with the man falling down the mountain. We did not fall down the mountain.

 

The bar directly across the street/alley from our hotel was open until 3am every night and also had live music every night. We finished all 4 nights there (despite having a 5am flight the day we left), and how could we not - it was called Cheers. It was a sign.

One bar had Duff beer. Of course Buddy had it.

I've helped spread Shake Face across several states, and now, I've helped spread it to Europe. We taught it to the bartenders at Cheers, despite their lack of English. "Como se dice Shake? y con la cara. Si? Comprendes?"

 I don't know what the hell the movie Chico & Rita is about, but I'm not sure how they're allowed to advertise in a public subway for what appears to be an animated porno. Why is Rita giving Chico an HJ while he's trying to play the piano? Loco.

No great conclusion to this adventure other than that i LOVE Barcelona. If I were allowed to take a year out of my life and go and live anywhere right now, it would be Barcelona. Immerse myself. Legitimately learn Spanish (though they actually speak Catalan in Barcelona). Get season tickets to FC Barcelona so I can drool over Messi every week. Yeah . . . that would be nice.