bye-bye Barcelona!

Ok it is sunny again here at the chateau, now a rare thing as autumn sets in with cloud and mist and wind with mere glimpses of sun. Today however a gentle blue sky and sun on my face inspires memories and I am given a moment to recall. But this is a quickie, a last fleeting flit through Barcelona – meeting up with good people and getting ready to head to Paris. Just one day… and my notes are gone so… relying on my terribly holey memory!

Arrived and committed a heinous crime… headed straight to McDonalds. Not cos I wanted a burger or fries but because I needed internet – how else could a scraggly bunch of travellers catch up?

It’s funny really; I had always given Emre a hard time for eating Maccas and frozen food when in Spain… I mean really? What a fucken hypocrite I ordered a third of my default Maccas order (you know the order you ALWAYS had when you were a kid… mine used to be a Big Mac, chocolate thickshake and fries – now even writing it makes me wanna barf) – So fries and warm water it was, as I got online and confirmed a meeting spot with Hanna and Jan… 9with help from mobile phones too) they in turn told others. I first headed to Jan’s flat for a catch up and a mini cd download sess and a pit-stop.

We headed to said park to meet others near Barcelona’s Arc de Triumph (a prelude for all things French?)

I met the guy who had moved in after me as well and a few others. (Holy shit two auburn coloured squirrels skittered past me at the chateau - soooo cute!). We wandered around the park enjoying sunlight (some nursing hangovers!) sitting, watching others frolic.

We laughed at the OTT gold-gilt water features, but let’s face it, it's these garish touches that mark a place as special, as a space to laugh in!

This boy was so intent on the pond that he stayed in this possie for well over 15 minutes… Holiday lifestyles eh?

Eventually we kept wandering through the park where the others (not me!) had a crack – and failed – at this popular “sport”/activity. Essentially elastic is strung up between trees and the aim is to balance across – eventually doing fancy stuff. The people who had it set up were great and they kindly indulged a pack of tourists (us) who wanted a go too.

Time for a drink at an outside bar. Very touristy but let’s face it we were marking time, til I had to gather my things and head for a train - all of us reminscing our time in Barcelona, some of us starting to turn our minds to our next stop. The company was pleasant but the food I ordered was not - some fish salad thing. I barely touched it. Unusual given I knew I had a 14hr overnight train trip coming up.

Anywhoo I said good-bye to the others, jealously, and headed to Jan’s apartment to pick up my luggage and chuff-chuff off.

Now I must say Jan has proven himself a bit of a hero - twice… first with the Lemsip (a few entries ago) and secondly by storing my stuff for 2 weeks while I flitted around Spain. No biggie you say? Well you try to haul my erm rather heavy luggage up and down 3 flights of these rickety stairs!

He also kindly waited as I (in full panicked traveller mode – where’s my ticket, where’s my passport, where’s some water, where’s my ticket, where’s my passport… you get it, right?) paced and fanned myself. The train arrives – goodbye Jan, goodbye Spain – stampede. OH FUCK.

TRAIN_TRIP FROM HELL!

Suitcase handle breaks as I lug my case onto the train – drag it (picture huge fuck-off case and me with small backpack sidling my way through =narrow passages) to compartment… are you FUCKING kidding me – no luggage storage and a full compartment. The bed I’d booked specifically at the bottom has magicked itself to be a top bunk.

By now I’m flustered and crying – I had booked and paid for a first class sleeper THIS squishy closet with 3 other women was NOT what I was anticipating. I spoke to the train attendant about the luggage ticker I'd been given for luggage storage - she laughed, no such thing! And the bunk thing? a shrug of the shoulders - last day of the holidays - no spare bunks, tough luck. I was going to deck the bitch but I was so flustered and upset I ddn't have the energy. Turns out there are 3 levels of first class – this was the lowest.

The women in my cabin (kindly – if grumpily) help me get luggage in and try to pretend it didn’t worry them. Another even MORE kindly swapped beds – no-one spoke more than two words of English… or Spanish – they were French.

At 9:45 the train inspector came in and lowered all the beds, overhead lights out – bed time… my light didn’t work I was getting leg cramp, had my period, the little bit I had eaten at the bar was not agreeing with me and our cabin door didn’t snib properly and it kept slamming on the edge of my bed near my head randomly through the night. NOT HAPPY! Certainly not the romanticised idealised indulgent European train ride I had fantasized about... or paid for. It was one fucking long, sleep deprived train trip from hell … but it did eventually land me in Paris.

... but that’s next entry folks!

Getting around and getting by

Ok so, so much to say but so busy doing things that I have no time to talk about it. Tonight public transport .... Mañana por la noche voy a tratar de escribir más sobre algunos de los lugares turísticos (thanks Google translate! J)

In Melbourne I am the queen of public transport – it has prepared me well for travel mucho transporto publica internationale. Mi casa es muy cerca de metro staciones - cuatro. 4 stations within 500 metres in every direction! In fact it is quite an easy walk, 15-20 mins, to town. But back to the metro. Trains arrive within 5 minutes – ALWAYS. Why do I live in the only city this does not seem to be the case? Anyways, having said that, there are issues with getting around in Barcelona.

Going down into a metro station is like voluntarily strolling down the throat of a panting dog – an old Labrador with halitosis. Gusts of hot, fetid air that seem to be deprived of oxygen greet you when you enter any station. Most women carry fans … the men just stand close to them and/or sweat!

When changing lines at some stations – like Passeig de Gracia – involves plumbing the depths of the earth and trekking an endless tunnel. Everyone sweats, everyone has a mild creeping anxiety – is there enough air – and everyone walks more quickly as a result. For fucks sake how do those who experience claustrophobia cope? These photos were taken approx in the middle facing each direction.

Also the ever-present issue of theft. I once witnessed a pick-pocketing event but it happened so fast ... and then 2 of the girls I live with were mugged on their way home from the station. Mugged, no, bag snatch yes. But I have only been made aware of theft - never violence and frankly I feel safe. There's more obvious "bait" around for the would-be bag snatcher. Muy muy chicas - blonde, joven y obviously touristes. Besides I'm creful without being paranoid - of course that's not just an issue on P.T

On the upside catching a lot of PT has meant I have seen some astonishing buskers in the same fetid tunnels. I mean how often can you listen to a harp or Andeluvian pipes at Flinders Street?

There are many buses here too – I have had no need to explore the options here but the seem frequent. Not really sure. I do know there’s a night but given the metro runs til midnight during the week and all night Saturdays and til 2am Fridays, Ive only needed to cab it once or twice oh that reminds me…

I am quite likely to die in Barcelona – certainly I feel that way each time I get into a cab. The fuckers drive on the wrong side of the road – keep in mind I am occasionally intoxicated when in a cab so I seriously have to stop myself from yelling “stop, you’re on the wrong fucking side of the road!” This effects me indirectly too. I walk on the wrong side of the footpath. I get swamped by a sea of people walking the wrong way, I block the wrong side of the escalator and I might in fact die cos some frustrated Catalunyan wants to push me under a car for getting in their way. For that matter they mightn’t need to push … I frequently have to stop myself from walking in front of cars COS THEY’RE DRIVING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE FUCKING ROAD!

Anyways I should also mention my attempts to book regional trains on my EURAIL pass. DO NOT BUY EURAIL PASSES – they are expensive and then you have to pay large booking fees for your seat – if there is one cos they restrict the number of available seats on each train… but despite that let me tell you about the booking process. I first went to the regional railway station to get timetable so I could plan my travels around Spain – it took dos horas and cuatro queues… TO GET TIMETABLES!

It was funny though, after standing for half an hour in one queue I could see that the guy who was about to serve me was muy frustrated – totally over it! SO I went up all perky “Beunos dias blah blah blah.” Immediately his eyes lit up and he gesticulated wildly gabbing on… obviously bitching about having to deal with foreigners - blah blah, Japoneses, blah blah Americanos, blah blah Alemanias” before I butted in with “y Australiano.” I shared a small smile before the language barriers shat him again.

When I went back to book my tickets – this Saturday I catch the train to Valencia por dias dos, Seville tres, Madrid tres before catching an overnight to Paris, yeehaa - I had a pretty good idea what would be involved. I went prepared practicing how to say “I have been learning Spanish for 2 weeks and can only speak a little, please speak slowly.” When I got to the front of each queue I’d say my line they’d smile/smirk a lot, nod and be quite kind.

The last place I had to wait used one of those ticket machines… my number was ochenta y seis (86) and they were calling cinco (5). I sat and waited chatted to many travellers – bought some nail polish and painted my nails… then went up and said my line, reserved my tickets and went home pretty fucken pleased with myself! Done.

It was only an hour or so after getting home that I realised what I’d actually said was “tiene aprendiendo Española dos semanas y habla en poco, habo lento por favor" …. You have been learning Spanish for 2 weeks and only speak a little, I will speak slowly!

Hasta manana mi amigo/as