Way back in 2007, I studied abroad in Salamanca, Spain with a student group. This past weekend, my roommate Leni and I decided to do a semi-spontaneous trip to Barcelona to take advantage of our last few weeks in Europe. Returning to Spain brought back all of my old memories. Tortilla española, late-night tapas, sitting in the Plaza Mayor... I remembered and missed it all.
Being the college students we are, Leni and I tend to make pretty bad life decisions with zero regard for the consequences. The night before we left for Spain, we stayed up until 5:00am. I was frantically writing a paper for my public relations class, she was packing and tying up loose ends. Why we left everything until the night before? I really couldn't tell you. What I can tell you, is that we payed for it dearly in the morning, when we woke up two hours later for our early flight out of Gatwick.
Barely awake, we dragged our sorry selves to the airport. Once we got to Gatwick, Leni, in a half-awake state of delusion, began cursing with a shocked look on her face. "What?! What is it?!" I asked her. "We were supposed to go to Gatwick airport, not Heathrow," she responded with a distressed tone. Yes, this is how tired we were.
Once in Barcelona, we decided to push through the exhaustion and enjoy the little time we had in this gorgeous foreign country. Our hostel, Kabul, was recommended to us by several study broad friends, and it did not fail to live up to expectations. Kabul boasted free breakfasts and dinners, an in-house bar, laundry facilities, free walking tours and club outings, and clean living quarters. This was more than we could have ever asked for, especially after our hellish ordeal at Blue Planet Hostel in Paris. It is sufficient to say that Kabul made our Barcelona experience.
Because I'm sure nobody wants to read a play-by-play of our weekend in Barcelona, I will sum it up as best I can. Our first day was spent wandering around, attempting to speak Spanish in a Catalan-speaking city. We ate all of the tapas we could get our hands on and stayed out until 6:00am dancing the night away. Our second day in Barcelona was spent mostly recovering from the night before. We attended a walking tour hosted by Kabul, met great people from all over the globe, saw the amazing architecture of Antoni Gaudí, and feasted on Spanish olives, garlic fried potatoes, fresh ham, sangria, churros, and too much gelato. It was fascinating meeting so many like-minded travel enthusiasts, ready to see what the world has to offer, such as our new friend Cyprian Gwozdz. We all compared travel destinations, swapped stories, and wound up dancing on a Sunday night.
One weekend in Barcelona wasn't enough, but the way I see it, that just means that I'll have to visit again sometime soon, which is totally fine with me.