When I arrived in Barcelona I made the mistake of asking someone for directions to the Metro. You'd think a bus station would have a sign, but no. The tourist office was packed, so I asked a woman traveller who blew me off. Then I asked another woman. She was an older woman and appeared very helpful. She of course didn't know what she was talking about, so she led me around in a complete circle. When I finally found the Metro, it was right up the stairs and outside the first door I came to when I initially asked the woman for help. I can't imagine she did it maliciously, just sheer stupidity, I bet. I tried to buy a Metro pass from the automated machine, but it would not take my credit card without a PIN #, so I had to use some of my precious euros. I later found a Metro employee and he said I needed a PIN # and practically threw my credit card back at me when I told him I did not have one. So fuck the Metro.
When I reached Plaza de Espana I had a challenging time finding my way out of the Metro station to the street. Again, a little signage would help us tourists. So I made it outside and by sheer luck found the hostel without wasting my time asking for help. Down the street from the Plaza Espana and only thirteen euros a day! That should have warned me. For two noisy nights I slept fitfully as one of six bodies sandwiched into a closet overlooking a busy street. Three packed dorm rooms shared the one and one half-bath flat with a kitchen carved out of the hallway. After arriving at two in the afternoon I couldn't use my locker or rest my head until the odoriferous man snoring in my designated bunk woke for his reassignment to the correct dorm. Give me a break! I don't understand how difficult it is for these hostels to make room assignments. TK had requested I be in her room and instead that same morning they assign this new guy to my bed, knowing that I was on my way.
I always found a line for the bathroom or a locked door, especially when the girls down the hall opted to use the shower room as their personal sauna/day spa. With so little space in our cramped dorm rooms, people chose to sleep, reorganize their backpacks and somehow monopolize the loveseat that served as the hostel's lounge. When I first checked in I literally could not find a place to sit.
For lunch we headed to the main calle nearby and found a nice bar/restaurant THAT TAKES CREDIT CARDS, and I ordered the menu del dia for ten euros. Delicious! Afterward we walked to the Caixa museo, housed in a stunning example of Moderniste architecture. Then we walked by the Magic Fountains, not running at the time, up to the art museum, then through the park to Joan Miro's Fundacio, which we wandered into without purchasing a ticket. The artwork and stick figures reminded me of my son's colorful creations drawn when he was three. The outdoor gardens with the sculptures refreshed my artistic senses. Then after a major hike up streets thick with trees, gardens and views of the city, we found the funicular (cable cars). We rode those to the top of the southern peninsula (Montjuic) and toured the castle as this massive storm descended from the north. From our safe southern vantage we watched the lightning and the dark clouds as the rain pelted the northernmost portion of Barcelona and the ocean, along with gorgeous views of the entire city, some still bathed in sunlight. The view of la Sagrada Familia sufficed for me, as most of the building's exterior is covered in scaffolding, massive cranes, and every tourist I spoke with talks in horror about the entrance lines that snake around the building starting at 9 a.m.
We wandered down Montjuic through a heavily wooded area and the storm eased enough that we caught an amazing sunset exploding over the western mountain ranges. An incredible afternoon in Barcelona! We walked to the marina and found Rambla del Mar swarming with tourists. We drank a pitcher of sangria at a tacky, expensive restaurant on the pier, but we sat inside because of the cool evening as we had dressed for the heat of the earlier afternoon.
We hiked a long way along Carrer Paralel to eat dinner at a restaurant recommended to TK that we both agreed was actually pretty bad and I'm sure a chain. As it was late and we were hungry and tired, we stayed and I took our order up to the guy at the window while TK sat at the table. I was not paying much attention, but then suddenly the guy taking my order at the window runs off and minutes later he's carrying TK's purse back into the restaurant. Fortunately this waiter was paying attention as someone from inside the restaurant had run off with the purse and he caught the thief in the act. We lost nothing but our complacency, but it hit home with me that Barcelona is really, really not where I wanted to be right then. The universe kept sending me these little messages and that was a big one. It's a large city, incredibly noisy and the tourist areas are crowded and full of thieves. And I absolutely hated our hostel.
Good night sleep after taking two Advil PM and even though some of the kids noisily left early in the morning, I woke refreshed. TK slept until 11 a.m., so after a light breakfast of coffee, olives and cheese, we toured Barri Gotic including a short visit to the incredibly crowded La Rambla. In the Barri Gotic we literally had to step over puddles and streams of urine from either dog or man or both. After more wandering we found a restaurant that served an entire bottle of red wine with the menu del dia for under ten euros! TK laughed at how my eyes lit up. Then we strolled to the marina and found a terrace restaurant/bar on top of the Catalunya Museo Historica, enjoyed a view of the city and the coastline while sipping cafe con leche, followed by a walk to the beach. The apartments towering over the beach were quite seedy and I think at one point we witnessed la policia shaking down two alleged pickpockets. We drank mojitos from a street vendor while sitting on filthy concrete steps as we listened to a Cuban-inspired street band while several couples danced. Then we returned to the hostel and discovered a French bloke passed out on the living room couch. He was there the following morning, awake, but I bet he spent the night there. We stepped out for wine at the restaurant where I devoured my menu del dia on my first day (El Kikiriki ?). Overall, Barcelona was interesting but so far my least favorite spot out of Madrid, Gerona and Tossa de Mar. And NOISY, NOISY, NOISY. Too many cars, too many people and I was beyond ready to head south to Tarragona!
After absolutely no sleep due to noisy hostelers, street traffic, etc, I bid a fond but sad adieu to TK, who headed back to London as she ended her Spain "holiday." No drama taking the Metro as the line I needed had reopened; it had closed the previous night forcing us on a long, winding tour through the Metro back to the hostel. The Barcelona bus staff had scant patience for my limited Spanish and provided little help and poor directions coupled with the station's lousy signage. Fortunately I had made it a point to arrive early and despite my bewilderment, I caught the correct bus to Tarragona.