Observations in Barcelona

In Barcelona it is very difficult to meet a real Spaniard.  For example, the hostel that Emily and I are staying in is pretty much a co-ed dorm full of American kids.  There are of course the international students that hail from exotic places like Egypt and France, but they are only here to add a bit of flavor to what has literally turned into Girls Gone Wild: Spring Break Barcelona. 
On the beach today, we met some people who live here, but of course one was English from Manchester, the other German (and a ginger too!)  The people working in many of the bars and restaurants in the town center are from other places.  I´ve met Argentinians, Aussies, lots of English, even an Indian guy, but hardly a real Spanish dude.  The only two so far are Guillermo from the front desk here at the hostel and the waiter today at Santa Marta. He loved us so much that we got two free rounds of Ron (also know as Rum), pineapple skewers, and an invite to a beach party.
Unexpectedly, I met an Italian tonight on the bus on the way to the club who stuck with me for quite some time.  Emily met a french guy at the club and I haven´t seen her since (!).  As far as the Italian, letś all chuckle that his name is Stefano, and I work at a place called Stefano.  LOL.  The club we went to, Shoko, opens up onto the beach.  This crazy guy took all his clothes off and jumped in the ocean, so of course I did too DUH! (although I had to wear my purse because the bartender inside told me that the pickpockets will literally steal anything left on the beach...even unattended clothing)!
We are leaving Barcelona tomorrow for one last night in Madrid, and the timing is perfect.  We love it here, but Em and I agree that it is better to leave a place wanting more than to stay too long. Luckily, we did everything we set out to do, including the ultra touristy (but totally awesome) double decker bus tour that showcases all of the Gaudi buildings throughout the city.
Oh yeah, sidenote... if you hang out here on the main tourist beach (called Barceloneta) there are all these people selling things and the sound of it makes a chorus that goes "Cerveza, beer, cold agua... dolla dolla dolla dolla...water, cold agua, cerveza, beer...massagy, massage, massaje...cerveza, beer, cold agua...coco coco marijuana...cerveza, beer, cold agua...¨ We never figured out what the dolla dolla dolla guy was actually selling but the sound of it sends us into hysterics everytime.
Sidenote to the sidenote: All of the people selling stuff are Indian and they wear long pants and polos despite the 90degree weather (this is not racism people, this is fact) and all of the ladies selling massagy are Asian (again, not racist or stereotyping, just telling you what I saw).  I actually bought something off of one guy, after I bargained him down in Spanglish.  It was pretty awkward seeing him pass at least a hundred more times after that because I was gloating heavy over my obvious win. Go Jo!

Doparoll

Oh man, I might not come home!  I found this amazing stuff in Paris called Doliprane (or as I affectionately call Doparoll), which is an amazing headache killer, but I´m basically using it as my new party drug.  The dosage is so high that if you take this stuff and drink a glass of wine you hallucinate.  Ok, not really but I swear it gave me a sweet high and then I got the munchies! 
The best part about Paris was seeing my beautiful friend, Debo B. Crazy, and her hot French boyfriend...I got them real drunnnnk and made them sign a pact (in blood) that they will make me a baby within 3 years! Emily and I also introduced them to Ethiopian food.  It almost didn´t happen because D´s bf doesn´t trust any ethnic food...he´s kind of a Frenchie purist...but it was definitely the best Ethiopian I´ve eaten!!  It doesn´t get any better than the waiter who couldn´t even speak French.  These people were straight from Erutria and you could taste it.
Right now, I´m in Barcelona.



That was a moment of silence on your behalf to sort through your feelings of anger and jealousy that you are not here.  Now, for the good part... We met some guys last night in a band called Clouded Vision and a rapper named Fashawn (haha I gave him the pet name Diva...quote "do you know what it´s like to be famous?  No, itś not at all what you think... I just want to live my life, man!"  Ok, Eminem, nice to meet you too...
These guys are on tour or something and they had played this club here called the Apolo... so basically they took us out for some drinks, introduced us to a Gambino (Italian mafia?) and then walked right up to the club bouncers and in we went.  No line, no charge, no questions.  Thatś basically how we roll now that we´re on Spanish time.  I actually saw a sunrise!  So, again, take a moment to breathe and just consider that I am probably having the best time of my life, but you are probably sleeping a lot more than me so it all balances out.

Basque Country

We are in San Sebastian which is really different from the rest of Spain.  Did you know they speak Basque, which looks like Arabic or Hebrew or something like that... ? In fact they´ve been trying to emancipate and escape the Spaniards for 1000 years!  That´s funny because we were starting to feel that way too...

Now that I got my money (with a new Western Union form), I´m fully ready to enjoy tapas, vino, and all the other offerings of San Sebastian Donostia. So far, we have spent a lot of quality time on the beach, where I went topless (!), been in and out of the tabacos shop for postcards and stamps, cooked dinner at our super cute hostel, and drank with the locals at a jazz bar...which hasn´t had live jazz since 1984! gah! The night might have ended with some of the city´s famous ¨maryjane¨ but in adhering to the ¨what happens in basque country stays in basque country¨  rule, I´ll never tell.

Back to the beach and mas tapas ahora!

TP versus WU

Dear People of the Estados Unidos,
ALWAYS carry TP into los baños de Espana.  While I think that most of the bathrooms have been very clean here, most of them do not have TP (although they all have TP dispensers, so it´s tricky to remember).  If I had been thinking, I would have realized that I needed to pack some tissues before I left the room today.  But obviously I wasn´t thinking, since I just went (right here at the internet cafe) before I checked the TP situation.  After a moment of panic, I did the only thing I could think of.  I wiped my ass with a Western Union form that I was saving for later...
OOOOOPS.  This is definitely a new one for me. 

We Ate the Churros

As predicted, we returned to San Gines Chocolateria for the famous vegan churros.  Apparently Saturday afternoon is exactly when you are supposed to eat these things because the tiny shop was overflowing with Spanish folks fighting each other for tables and toilet paper.  I had to dip into the private reserves of TP twice while in the place (reserves were kept near the bathrooms, discreetly stacked on a shelf behind the water glasses...don't ask me what the ladies were using before I showed up...)
We finally scored a table after standing Italian style at the espresso bar, trying our best not to miss out on the hot churro action.  We got settled at last. While I was busy with my pot of warm chocolate and espresso, Alia says "Oh my god, look at this waiter..." Emily and I are looking at her, but turn just in time to see a pretty big Spanish waiter lose at least 3 plates of hot churros, 4 coffees, and 4 pots of chocolate from a triple stacked tray!!  I think he was planning to head downstairs with orders for 10 tables, but instead splashed 4 little old ladies with a chocolate surprise.  The shock and awe was so great that not even a gasp was heard.  Silence alone was the only proper reaction, but if you know me, you know I was busting up laughing inside.  It was like watching Claudio on a Saturday night.  We felt so bad for this guy, because this place was so crowded and it took him at least 5 full minutes and two other employees to clean up all the liquid chocolate.  I'm pretty sure it was Alia who said, "That lady got chocolate all over her red jacket!  Free churros for life!"
We also ate some amazing Mediterranean chow at a place called Maoz (pronounced Moe's perhaps) which I heard might be the only vegan option in Paris.  Thank god this place is delicious, cheap, and gives you free refills on your salad bowl.  Put's Daphne's Greek in Daly City to super shame.
We saw "Guernica" at the Museo Reina Sofia, mostly because Emily and I both remember the print at our old kitchen on Hayes.  The print was the size of one wall in our kitchen.  The real thing is the size of one wall of the museum!  Go Picasso, you pervert freak!
Ok...since I'm using Alia's computer and being "that friend" who doesn't ever have her own technology to work with, in addition to having NO access to the ATM because of my lame-ass bank, let me wrap up by telling you that I went out to a bar called Paloma Blanca by my very lonesome just because I had to see a place that gives you free tapas while you drink.  Three beers deep, I managed to taste patatas bravas con salsicca, albondigas (meatballs), and 3 fish sticks.  Of course the only other person there by himself stood right next to me, and we had the best conversation in broken spanish ever!  After admitting I'm not actually 19, he replied it's ok, "Soy treinta" (30) which was the biggest whopper I ever heard since he was obviously 41.  "Christian", pronounced krees-ti-on, will be there again tonight at 9, even though he, of course, has a girlfriend.  Hehehe. Spaniards.
Our night ended at Alia's favorite club, Kapitol, which has 7 dance floors and stays open until 7 am.  Holy cow, what are all these people smoking!? It was 4 am when the big screen lit up, the gogo dancers took to the stage, and the acrobats climbed up the red curtain to do an aerial dance.  No joke, two acrobats used to one curtain to dance their way to the ceiling and I held my breath for a full minute praying that the chica would not be dropped to her death, since there was nothing holding her up but one arm of a guy roped onto the curtain by his feet.  !
Luckily, we made it home in a taxi around 5 am, and like a champion I had purchased some Golden Grahams and soymilk earlier in the day, so I was able to end my night there, like a real American.

Thank God Churros Are Vegan

So we made it to Alia's house (Emily's sister) just as planned around 3 in the afternoon Friday... which is crazy because we left San Francisco at 3 in the afternoon on Thursday!

The first thing I did was shower because airplanes are nasty and will give you syph if you don't. The next thing I did was sleep.  And I'm told I slept through 5 roommates coming and going for about 2 hours. I think Alia's apartment must be about 400 years old, so that makes a lot of sounds seem exaggerated.  Not that I cared. I was sleeping off the Ambien that Emily force fed me on the airplane hours earlier.

After waking up and realizing !Holy F*ck I'm in Spain!, I put on a tank and some sandals and we hit the town.  

First walking downtown to enjoy a beer and "tortilla" at Tapas 44 (basically Spanish style fast food...except wait, they also have Mickey D's, Starbucks, and Subway here.).  Anyway, the tortilla is basically a small omellete stuffed with potatoes... so you know Emily was not eating that. She had patatas bravas which are some pretty mean roasted potatoes covered in red sauce.  Apparently what we call breakfast is what Spain calls tapas.  I don't think they eat "breakfast" because they are just going home from the bar when most Americans are getting up for work.  In fact, I've been warned that this evening will include going to a nightclub that stays open until 7 am...we won't be getting there until 1:30am. !

Naturally, after we finished the tapas and beer we continued walking towards other food and beer opportunities.  Before that, however, we walked through two major plazas. Plaza Mayor, which is instantly reminiscent of the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena, Italy.  Next was Plaza Sol where I took a bunch of photos.  Nothing says tourist better or more obviously than snapping pictures of yourself from above.  Oh yeah, I also noted the plethora of street performers, like the classic "gold man" and even more classic "gold guitar man" (personal fav!).

The time frame is important here, because it was about 9 pm, the weather was around 70 degrees F, and the city was literally in full swing.  I never saw so many people walking so closely together over cobblestone. It made my heart leap to arrive at the indoor market (roughly a miniature ferry building scene) and see people enjoying hearty glasses of wine and small delicacies nearing on 10pm.  We ate about 100 samples of almonds in there and Alia discovered that goji berries taste like soil, but are full of antioxidants and are totally worth eating.

Finally, we left that wino palace and got to our real destination... a vegan/vegetarian restaurant called Herba Buena.  Like all vegan/vegetarian restaurants in otherwise meat addicted cities, this place used an abundance of green, orange, and neon colors to attract guests who would otherwise be scared off by big words like spinach and seaweed. Everything there tasted great, from the guacamole amuse-bush, to my spinach loaf with Roquefort, to Emily's seitan steak (it really did look just like a steak to me).  The only gross thing was what they were calling a seaweed "caviar", which I'm sorry, tasted like pureed tuna.  All was not lost however, because it was served on top of a delicious piece of fried dough, which I chewed, swallowed, and digested in 4 and 1/2 seconds.

I thought our night would end there, what with all the belly grabbing and heavy sighing over how regrettably full we had become.  Yet, we still found ourselves at the churro shop, nearly ready for an order of churros and chocolate.  We tag teamed the waiter to get him to admit that even vegans will love these churros!  Flour, water, salt.  Of course, you are supposed to dip them in chocolate.  Which is what we will be having for breakfast today, probably around noon or 1pm.  Don't worry...I'll be eating all the chocolate while Emily thoughtfully makes one churro last for 15 minutes.  This is why she is skinny, people.

Our night ended in Plaza Santa Ana, which is absolutely gorgeous at midnight.  A large beautiful building is lit in purple against the night sky, the cafes are full of happy people drinking sangria like they're on vacation, and of course, there are kids running around on the playground like school just let out.  

All that and we still caught the last metro home by 1:30.  Alia was spit on by some gross old man in the metro station, but luckily she had a metro ticket to clean it up with.

Barf Bag...

That's the first thing Emily said as we made our descent into Madrid today.  It went something like this:
Me: Emily, how you doing?  That's Spain out there!
Emily: Barf bag...I mean, really, is there a barf bag?

More about our adventures after we get over the jetlag...

Madrid is awesome so far and clearly does not sleep.