Jake and Steve vs. Europe: 6/6 - 6/12

Trying to type a whole blog entry on an AZERTY keyboard is going to be rough, be here it goes anyways.

After just having crossed the border to España, we stopped for a hour and a half layover prior to boarding another train to Barcelona.

*side note: I made it this far in the post before I had to switch to typing on my phone. French keyboards, not gonna happen*

We grabbed a couple beers cervezas in the station's cafe, and together came up with the brilliant idea that we would try to speak strictly Spanish to both one another and to the Spanish people we met along the trip. Makes sense, right? Hell, I took AP Spanish in high school.

We arrived in Barcelona in the afternoon of the 6th of June, after nearly 7 hours of travel on regional trains (stopping every 10 minutes or so to pick up more people). People that we had met along the trip all told us that: 1, Barcelona was awesome for a plethora of reasons, mainly that the parties and beaches were fantastic, and that it was the most similar to American cities of any european city we were going to travel to, and 2, that they didn't really speak Spanish there, and instead spoke some sort of strange dialect. Remember our idea of speaking only spanish? That fell flat on its face when we saw/heard what catalan, the native language of catalonia (the region) - which is like a mix between french and spanish - actually sounded like. We quickly found ourselves in way over our heads, and within 15 minutes were back to english. We used our elite european city navigation skills to take the metro to the hostel. This time we only wandered for about 25 minutes before we arrived. The hostel, called Equity Point Centric, was pretty awesome, and was located in the heart of the city. It was nearly 9 stories tall, and featured a massive open staircase with safety nets across each landing (likely for the drunk travellers that lean on the railing). In our room we met Roque, Michael, Kat, Kate, and Fabio - all awesome people, the fomer four of which being from across the USA and the latter from Sao Paulo, Brazil. The seven of us hit it off pretty well, and you'd be hard pressed to pick out a moment in barcelona during which at least three of us weren't together.

We set out into the city, guided by our stomachs, in search of Spain's legendary tapas. We stuffed our faces full, and spent the next two hours lounging before buying some party supplies for the evening.

I have to be honest, Barcelona was a bit of a whirlwind. We spent nearly 9 hours each day, from 10 pm to 7 am (sunrise was at 6:15), out partying in the city at various bars, nightclubs, Espit Chupitos - a bar with over 600 shots available, and beach clubs - night clubs that back up to the beach and allow you to sit in the sand, buy 1€ beers from the locals, and even swim. The party scene absolutely lived up to the hype, and I'd be lying if I said it would be easy to pick apart the remainder of our time in barcelona, so I'll just do some of the daily highlights.

The second day Steve, Roque and myself set out on a mission to acquire a 3 person tandem bicycle. After wandering across half of the city we came up with nothing. Dejected, we settled for beer and tapas. I should mention that the day before, FC Barcelona won the Champions league for football (soccer), and as we were walking back to the hostel we found ourselves in the center of the celebration parade, in the midst of easily over 50000 people.

The third day saw us sleeping in until nearly 2:30 in the afternoon. You've got to consider that, on any given night, we might not have gotten back until 7:30 or 8, so we became accustomed to operating on an average of 4 hours of sleep. That day also brought with it one of the wildest bunch of travellers we had met to that point, a bunch of Scottish law students. They quickly fell in with the crew.

Day 4 brought with it two Americans who had just gotten in from South Africa, Juan and Ethan. Steve, Juan, Ethan and myself made time that day (finally) to go out and see some sights. We went first for LA Segrada Familia, one of the most famous chapels in the world. It's difficult to capture the scale of this place in my photos, but I hope they give at least a semblance of an idea of how massive it actually was. The architecture was immaculate, with saints, gargoyles, and a plethora of patterns carved into the stone. Even the towers were designed in a way that set them apart from any other church in the world. The only thing that could rival the exterior of the church was, naturally, the interior. Vaulted ceilings hundreds of feet tall with paintings or stained glass windows, which painted the walls every color of the rainbow, covered every surface. There were easily thousands of people in the building, a testament to how big it truly is.

Following the church, we went to the Aquarium. It was no Shedd's, but it was a great way to spent a few hours when accompanied by a sangria buzz. That afternoon, the four of us had Paella for the first time. Paella, for those who aren't familiar, is essentially a massive pan of seafood risotto, and it is fantastic. We got two massive servings of paella, two pitchers of sangria, and 12 tapas all to share for only 11€ ($11.20ish). Pretty awesome.

We said goodbye to Barcelona, a city that definitely kicked our butts by the end, on Wednesday, and made for Madrid.

Our expectations for Madrid were pretty high after having just left Barcelona, and I don't think the cities could have been more different. Where Barca was all wide streets, tourists of every nationality, bars, clubs, clean streets and music, Madrid was the opposite. The streets were so small they felt suffocating in a way, and they weren't nearly as clean or bright as Barcelona. That being said, the people were incredibly friendly, and the sangria & tapas? Spectacular. We spent the first night in, earning a much needed rest after the activities of the previous few nights.

The second day in Madrid we burst out with quite an agenda, intending to see as many monuments as we could in the time we had. Well, as it turns out, the officials at the palace had decided that they, too, wanted to get things done that day, and thusly had shut down the entire damn palace to visitors. Determined not to be deterred by this, we set out to the next best thing, a massive monastery in the city center. Turns out monks thoroughly enjoy their siesta, and shut the monestary down from noon until 6pm. Our last bastion of hope for a good time in Madrid came in the shape of a great friend of mine, Jose, who had moved to Madrid the previous year and was both working and studying there. We met up at around 9pm, and proceeded to tour a plethora of local bars. At around 1AM, we made for a local nightclub, and got in to find that we were literally the only people there besides the staff. Not to worry, 1AM is early in Spain, and after some discussion with the club promoter, Jose got the three of us into the velvet - roped VIP section, complete with bottle service. It was a good night.

We left Madrid with mixed feelings, but excited about what was to come.