Unforgettable Tapas Tour and Pub Crawl in Madrid

Day 16- 18

Madrid was our last stop in Spain so it was time to go hard with the food and drink. Oh how I’m going to miss cheap sangria and tapas.

Before starting our mini pub crawl, we needed some sustenance so went looking for ‘Casa Julio’ (a small restaurant I’d read about in my Europe on a Shoestring travel book). After taking an easy 5 minute walk from our apartment on Gran Via, we found the spot. Walking into the space, I immediately knew it would be perfect. locals were sitting at the bar having a gasbag and downing a few beers. The walls were covered in old family photos and the whole space just smelt delicious!

We ordered a mini feast as we knew quite a lot of alcohol would be consumed during the night. They had 6 flavours of croquettes so, naturally, we ordered 12 (they were all to die for). We then shared a large slice of tortilla (potato and egg omelette), fried brie with blackberry jam, stewed pork, gazpacho soup, and spicy patatas bravas. Having the necessary beers and sangria to complement our meals, we had a great start to the evening. I was so full!!

Somehow, I mustered some strength and freed myself from the chair once were were ready to move on. Now it’s time to get down to business. It drinking time!

We started wandering around the same area and walked into one of the oddest bars we saw called ‘De Bebes’. It was a dimly lit bar covered in fake human skeletons, sombreros and miscellaneous knick knacks. It was clearly Mexican themed. The only patrons were a fat old Spanish couple and a lonely tourist eating and drinking in the corner. It was quite a dive but we needed to experience such a place. I started off with a mojito (my favourite of all cocktails) while the others had margaritas and beers. The drinks were alright but nothing to gush over. Nonetheless, the quirky atmosphere made it worth the while. We all relieved ourselves at the neon lit loo and moved on.

We then hit a few more bars here and there before ending up at a great little place called ‘Saporem’. Here I had a delicious Aparol spritz for and only 3 euros. One of my girlfriends, on the other hand, had a caipirinha (made with so much care) which was a whopping 10 euros but super boozy and well balanced. A few more beers were also consumed as we soaked up the night and shared our favourite Spanish stories (the time we only just got our flight from Barcelona to Mallorca was not mentioned – no one wishes to relive that near miss).

We were all a bit merry and ready to head home at about 11:30. From what I’d heard Madrid’s night life didn’t start till 12:00 but that was far beyond the bedtime of my fellow travellers. Will just have to come back another time

For one of our last nights in Madrid, we decided to make up our own tapas tour (we were definitely not going to pay to join a touristy one). We moved towards ‘Tapas Central’ otherwise known as the Latin Quarter. It was the older and less grand part of Madrid. I preferred it to the rest of the city. It was full of locals drinking and eating outside in small parks and squares with a few tourists darted about as well.

Wandering about we came across all of the tapas/ pintxos places I had found on the internet/ in my travel book. We started at ‘Txakolina’ and downed their crab, fried egg and jamon, and vegetable pintxos alongside some mini hamburgers and an omelette. All of the food was delish. And of course we had the mandatory sangria and beer. We had to stand/ eat at the bar but that was fine. It made it easier to move on to the next place.

Next came ‘Taberna Txakoli’ which served similar food and drinks. We scoffed down our tapas super quick (so fast I can’t remember what we even ate but I remember leaving extremely satisfied) and ran to our next place. By this time we had eaten a heap of food as we should have paced ourselves from the outset.

We ended at ‘Juanalaloca’ (Yes we only went to 3 places but we couldn’t fit in any more food) and had some more ‘fancy’ tapas. There were fresh sardines (or at least some sort of salty fish), zucchini and some other sort of vegetable as well as truffles and artichokes.

These were probably the best but also the most expensive tapas we had (we could tell this was going to be the case once we walked in and were actually given a seat) but I’m more than willing to splurge when it comes to things like this. I won’t spend a whole lot of money on clothes from H&M or on tacky souvenirs but I’ll definitely put the majority of my money towards good food and alcohol.

We left the Latin Quarter around 10:00 as we were more than satisfied with the moving feast and were in an even greater mood because it had finally cooled down (the city had been perpetually hot before now). I had a little dance with a group of middle-aged, sweaty and slightly obese buskers as we made our way back to the apartment.

I got home with all of the others and collapsed onto my bed and began devouring the takeaway churros we got on the walk back. Breathing heavily (my body was still struggling to digest all the food) and spilling the chocolate sauce all over myself, I finished my dessert and went to sleep right there and then. Nothing better than falling into a food coma.

And yes, we also saw the major sights, during our stay, but they didn’t really impress me. I liked some of the art in the Prado Museum but I got bored by all of the monotonous religious artworks and was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the place. It was like a labyrinth of art which I just didn’t understand. Park del Retiro (picture below) was big and beautiful but it was too hot to appreciate everything outside in the elements. And the Royal Palace was just a bit ‘meh’ for me.

As a whole I had a great time in Madrid (mostly the eating and drinking) but the city itself didn’t thrill me. I left feeling a bit underwhelmed by everything but the Latin Quarter. Maybe I just didn’t see the right things (I did miss out on its famous nightlife). Maybe I’ll need to return with a local or group of party goers. Still, I love Spain. Italy may be ahead of me tomorrow but I don’t want to leave this country behind.

Free Walking Tour Shows us the Real Madrid

Day 15

Like we had done in Barcelona, the 6 of us joined a free walking tour in Madrid but this time went with ‘Sandeman’s walking tours’. After getting our quick takeaway coffee in a plastic beer cup (our desperate need for caffeine meant we’d take anything) we met up with our group at Placa Mayor. Our guide, Celia, was an interesting character. While her accent resembled that of a British chav, she happened to be a born and bred local.

She also seemed to have a love/hate relationship with her city. She spoke of her obsession with tapas but would go all pursed lipped at the thought of eating the terrible tourist food which lined so many of the streets. The rich history filled with violence and mystery got her excited as she included everyone in on her history lessons but she showed her clear feminist/left political leanings when she criticised so many of the past and present leaders of Spain. She loved her music (she is the lead singer in a blues band) but hated Eurovision (how dare she!!) and how limited she thought Spanish music was.

Celia was selling us her city but she couldn’t help but let her criticisms seep through. This is what made her such a good guide. She showed us the real Madrid (its beauty and its ugly side). It was refreshing to have a more frank description of a city rather than the dolled up tourist version we had already been receiving.

To make things better, I couldn’t help but chuckle every time she got distracted by a dog passing us on the street. She’d try to resist showing her affection but failed to control herself every time. She chased them down the street and would stop mid-sentence to pat them. It was adorable.

But what I liked most about her, is how she discussed all the different cultures and religions which have been a part of Madrid and how they continue to be important today. She did this by showing us a rarely seen perspective of La Almudena Cathedral (on the right). The Church itself was created for Christians. The old wall in front of it is from the period during which Madrid was settled by the Muslims. And in the forefront of the picture is a small park and water feature in the shape of the Star of David to represent the Jewish community and the role they played in Madrid’s past, present and future. There was true respect for this diversity. Each culture had played a role in Spain’s art, literature, language, food and architecture.

But she also pointed out how these sentiments are not shared by everyone in Madrid. To her, many politicians and those from older generations are far more ignorant and unable to appreciate how this mixture of cultures is good for the city. Oh how these sentiments took me back to Australian politics and our treatment of refugees. But I digress (this blog isn’t meant to be full of my political rants).

I had learnt so much from this little walking tour but was still left a little underwhelmed by what I saw around me. It just wasn’t as nice a city to look at as Barcelona. It was louder and less clean. It was hot and had very little breeze. I was intrigued but not won over by Madrid at this point. Maybe I just haven’t seen the good bits. At least I still have 3 more days to truly appreciate it all. I just need to give it some time.

Taking Advantage of the Cheap Drinks, Free Tapas, and Beautiful Men in Granada

Day 14

Few things in life have made me as happy as I felt once I realised most bars and restaurants in Granada serve free tapas with any alcoholic beverage. This is definitely my kind of city. I had already gotten my dose of formal culture, art and history through my exploration of the Alhambra so now it was time to experience the laid back Spanish life.

Without having many plans as a group, I found myself wandering the streets without a map for most of my stay here. I had no predetermined location but I was still on a mission – Must get as many free tapas during my time in Granada!!!

Spending the entire day by myself, (I needed some more andytime as travelling with 5 other people can get a little nuts) I came across a small bar around the corner from our apartment called ‘La Fontana’. Here, I saw some locals and tourists alike getting some small tapas with their beers and sangrias.

Before I knew it, my body had already sat itself down at a table outside and I was attempting to order their largest beer.

After laughing (with me, I swear) at my butchering of the Spanish language, the friendly waitress brought over a small gazpacho soup (they choose what you get for free) along with my beer. It is just what I needed on this hot and dry day. I admit, it wasn’t the best gazpacho I had, had before but I didn’t really care for I was still super excited by the fact it was free!

As I was by myself and there was no wifi, I was able to focus on the important things (aka consuming as much food and booze as possible while looking up from my glass or plate every so often to watch the people walking by). After about an hour I had gone through 3 beers and 2 sangrias but was in need of more food (small portions will never suffice my lunchtime hunger). Being quite drunk, I knew I wasn’t going to fare well by looking elsewhere for food so ordered some extra tapas at La Fontana (as seen in the feature image above). And they were scrumptious.

I was in the best of moods but my spirits were then lifted even higher by the emergence of two locals who started to play some live music across the road. They played the Spanish guitar. There was some casual rhythmic clapping and the vocalist had a great manly voice full of emotion (Yes, Spanish men are actually able to exhibit all emotions without losing their masculinity. Who’d have known?)

This is my type of living. To onlookers, I may have seemed like a lonely drunk bopping along to some random buskers on the street but I didn’t care. I had just fallen for Granada.

Later that night, (once I had sobered up a little) I decided to socialise a bit more and meet some new people. Dabbling around on Tinder and Grindr, I started chatting to this attractive American guy who was studying Spanish over here. He was bored and in need of hanging out (this is all PG kiddies) so we decided to grab some dinner together that night. I let him choose as I thought he’d know of some great local spots.

In the end, we ended up having Japanese food as he was sick of eating Spanish cuisine. Just my luck. But it wasn’t until I had my first mouthful of sushi when I realised how much I missed it. 16 pieces of sushi (all just for me) later, I was super full and getting along with this guy smashingly.

I was on a date at a Japanese restaurant with an American guy in Granada. How Cosmopolitan of me.

Unfortunately it was cut short by a call from my friends who had foolishly locked themselves out of our apartment and needed my key to let them in. Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from the handsome man sitting across from me and made my way back to the apartment to let the others in.

Walking down the quiet streets was the perfect way to end my night. I could clear my head and simply soak in all the positive energy around me. 

Soon after, I crashed on my bed, in a state of bliss, knowing it was my last night of free tapas. But I didn’t have time to grieve as we were heading for Madrid the next morning.

 

Discovering the Great Arab Culture in Granada

Day 12 – 13

I had no expectations when it came to Granada. This helped me fall for the small city for everything I stumbled upon was surprising and new to me. But, in the very beginning, I didn’t quite appreciate what I saw.

While catching the bus from the airport (only 5 euros each) we came into Granada through the somewhat unpleasant-looking outer suburbs. I quickly thought to myself ‘Is this all Granada is?’ ‘Is it a dirty and scarce city which just happens to have the Alhambra nearby?’ Maybe we shouldn’t be staying here for 3 nights…

These thoughts were quickly swept away once we reached the centre of the city whose architecture resembled that of Barcelona (just on a much smaller scale). Getting off the bus, I followed the others through the streets to our nearby apartment. The old buildings full of new shops and fleeting tourists were no longer new to me but I came across something else altogether different.

I had never expected to stumble across a large Arab culture in Granada (perhaps this was due to my ignorance and lack of research into this part of the trip). The wide concreate roads and footpaths of the city centre quickly transitioned into a maze of narrow pathways laid with small smooth black and white pebbles. It was as if I had stepped into small bazaar in Morocco. Shop keepers were selling rugs, shoes, lamps, art and all other sorts of touristy stuff which I would expect to find in the Middle East.

The Arab influences hadn’t left with the Moors who had conquered this area so long ago. Their culture is still a large and integral part of Spain. The restaurants and bars also filled this area with a great Middle Eastern musk consisting of shisha smoke, incense and spices. I didn’t even know how much I had missed kebabs until I got one here (two for dinner and one for a snack on the first night alone). The Arab Quarter hit me right in the face, and I loved it!

Of course, the main reason we came to Granada (as it is for every other tourist) was to see the famous Alhambra. After the initial stress of being unable to pre-book tickets (try to pre-book if you can because they cap how many people can enter each day and the lines get very long, very fast) we left at 7:30 in the morning to make sure we could get in.

After walking up all 129 steps to the house in Mallorca the previous week, I thought I was now super fit. I was super wrong. We were staying right at the bottom of the hill where the Alhambra rested so we thought walking up would be a breeze. Yet again, we misjudged the journey. We weren’t even a third of the way up and I wanted someone to carry or roll me up the rest of the way. I guess the daily ritual of getting pastries for breakfast kept my fitness levels low (still this wasn’t enough to end that amazing ritual). Once we reached the top, we saw how most people had caught the shuttle bus or a cab up to the top (well aren’t they just smart and full of money then. Yes I’m tired, sweaty and jealous of how relaxed they all look).

Getting there at 8:00, we were all relieved to see a small line of people waiting for tickets. It was no long before we got ours (14 euros each) and made our way into the Alhambra with 1 audio guide to share.

This place is so much bigger than I had ever imagined. We begin by wandering around the gardens (touching all the plants we could just because we were told not to. Such rebels) before going into the Palace. One of my friends puts the audio guide up to her ear and acts as our own personal tour guide. She mocks the ‘little man in her ear’ as well as the sound effects (sword fighting and running water) for this part of the day. She was informative, entertaining and much cheaper than paying for a proper tour guide. Definitely the best way to go about it.

We all walk into the Palace together but quickly split up as we make our way through at our own pace (some of us taking more shameless selfies than others. Yes I’m the main culprit. I need to put something other than landscapes on my blog).

The balconies and windows scattered about allow us to look over the white and black houses of Granada as well as the dry hills and mountains which lie behind them. From this perspective, all of Granada is beautiful, not just the city centre.

Moving further into the Palace, I come to see the intricate plaster, wood and marble details covering every surface. It is overwhelming. After marvelling at some rooms for quite some time, I’d struggle to continue looking at the artwork in other spaces. Each piece of art is so small yet so vast once all put together. The amount of time and care that has been put into this place is difficult to comprehend. No wonder the Alhambra such precious monument.

Amongst all of this, I can’t stop my jaw from dropping every time I walk into an outdoor area within the Palace walls or one of the many gardens surrounding it.

This one opening (the feature image) is by far the most impressive. The sun is still rising as it is early in the morning. The shadows made by the large marble pillars make for a picturesque setting. Somehow it is still peaceful and relaxing (if you block out the noise from the loud American tourists) as I find some time, here and there, to simply appreciate my surroundings without taking a picture or making a joke with a friend. The running water in the gardens and fountains simply adds to this peace.

I can envisage the people who once lived here, going about their daily lives within the remarkable Alhambra. Yet we can only spend the better half of a day wandering around aimlessly (holding onto each precious moment). You can never have enough time here to truly appreciate everything.

But what is happening down below in the town of Granada (right here and now in 2014) makes our 3 night stay here worth every cent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taking it easy in Mallorca

Day 7 – Day 12

The rest of the week seems to blur itself together. As I’m living on island time (no time at all) I’m forgetting the order of events plus I did a whole lot of wandering (on the left) and lazing about the house so there’s no need for going through all of that day by day.

We did, however, take a long drive along the coast to Soller for a swim on the beach early on in the week. We passed through the small village of Deia where artists have gained inspiration for decades. While I would have loved having an epiphany of sorts here, we had no time to stop because we were all pretty stressed out by the drive.

The roads were dauntingly narrow as they wound around large cliffs by the sea. Each time the oncoming traffic came zipping past, us passengers would squeeze up against the opposite side of the car and cringe. It was even worse every time a large tanker truck passed us.

What we had estimated to be a chilled 20 minute drive, turned out to be an hour and a half journey of fear. But by some stroke of luck, we arrived unscathed.

The Soller beach was nice. Not brilliant. Not bad. Just nice.

I spent hours in the water, getting all wrinkly and relaxed while the others lay on the beach for the most part. The coarse sand also made for a good exfoliation session (although I had to make a conscious effort not to rub off my tanned skin). I could have stayed there all day but alas we had to move on and get back to town for dinner and such. Living on island time was harder than I had previously anticipated. Some form of schedule had to be made for a group of six travellers.

While this was a great chill sesh, our best beach day had to be our pre-booked boat trip with ‘North Mallorca Charters’. Paying less than 50 euros each, the six of us had the small boat, ‘Esmeralda’ to ourselves for 4 hours. A bargain compared to everything else and pretty much the same cost as a cab back from the city to my home in Melbourne.

 

Being greeted by our laid-back (no one in Mallorca seemed to be stressed out or in any hurry. Strike that. No one in Spain was ever in a hurry) and very tanned captain Sebastian, we quickly got down to business. Slathered in sunscreen, disrobed and with a can of beer in hand, I sat at the front of the boat as we moved along the coast. While evening out my trashy singlet tan lines, I couldn’t help but marvel at our surroundings. The landscape consisted of a mixture of rocky cliffs and rolling dry hills (strangely resembling the Scottish coastline) with the occasional luxury home hidden amongst the foliage.

I’ve found another happy place to add to the list.

Unfortunately the water was too choppy to stop at most of Sebastian’s planned points but we were able to rest in a secluded cove near the Pollenca Port. We played about and acted like fools in the shallow emerald green water with the kayak and paddle board for most of the day.

Sebastian gave us fresh fruit and an enormous lunch with potato salad, bruschetta, a cheese platter, loads of bread, couscous and a whole lot of Spanish ham. We even had, what seemed like, a never ending supply of cold beer, soft drinks and water throughout the 4 hours.

I was full of tasty food. I was a little bit tipsy and I was in the best of moods with a group of close friends on a boat in the Mediterranean Sea listening to 90’s hits. Can’t get much better than that. I could have spent the full day there if it wasn’t for my lack of funds.

During our stay, we also found a fantastic eatery in town. It was an Italian restaurant called ‘Trattoria del 1661’. Seeing as we were halfway between the mainland of Spain and Italy we thought it was still ok to chow down on some Italian food.

It was here where I had the best sangria of the trip so far. It was full of fresh fruit in the jug, good wine sourced from Banyalbufar and strong liqueurs. Even our wine glasses were decorated with local fruit. This, coupled with the ½ litre glasses of beer made us all quite drunk.

But the food truly made 1661 worth it. I could have eaten everything on the menu but went for a vegetable and buffalo mozzarella cheese ravioli with a tomato and basil pesto sauce. I even opted for extra buffalo mozzarella and rocket to top the dish. I was in heaven. It wasn’t cheap as it came to 20 some euros each but it was well worth it (the island life came at a cost with everything being a little more expensive than Barcelona – I guess that’s what we get for being so far away from the main towns).

Each night seemed to end the same way. We’d have dinner and walk over to the main square (on the left) where we could all access the free wifi (I’d check my Facebook, Whatsapp, Grindr and Tinder before attempting to publish a blog post on the extremely slow internet). The lack of any attractive men near our small town (Banyalbufar) also lessened my desire to use Grindr and Tinder during this part of the holiday.

Making my way back to the house, I’d then climb all the stairs (the only time I’d exert any energy) and catch my breath from time to time, admiring the different perspectives of the same view. I’d watch sunset by myself (each one was unique in its own right). I’d reflect on my day, write a little more in my diary or blog and then play some cards or just generally chill and chat with everyone else before going off to bed. Everything was easy on the island.

I was so happy living in our own little oasis but it was time to pick up the pace as we made our way to Granada.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living the island life in Mallorca

Day 6

Last night, I dreamt we had found a hidden staircase in the house. It lead to another modern and white bedroom which was fully equipped with l’Occitane products, my deodorant and clean sheets. I danced around the new bedroom’s bathroom as if I was in a beauty product commercial (I had the unnaturally bright white teeth and everything).

In reality, I woke up on a very short couchette with my legs dangling off the end (I am a very short person so this was a first for me). My leg was cramped and my neck was tight. To make matters worse, I instantly remembered how all my personal hygiene products and been taken from me at the airport yesterday. Crap! I want to go back to the dream world. It was so pretty there and I was clean.

Stumbling up the stairs to the first of two terraces we have, I open the shutters and come across that stunning view again. It turns out reality is even better than my dream. My Barcelona views are almost surpassed by the one laying in front of me.

Our small town, (Banyalbufar) is clinging on to the hills and cliffs on the north-west coast of Mallorca. The land focuses in on the town centre laying beneath us and then opens right back up into the Mediterranean below. It is a never-ending expanse of calm blue water. I can make out the water currents and wind brushing over the water. The occasional boat drifts on past but doesn’t linger as our local beach is closed. This place immediately enters my metaphorical book comprising of my ‘Happy Places’. I’ll think of myself laying here anytime I need to escape (can’t forget this sight).

Right there and then I decide to do noting today. I am determined to be lazy (not like that is very different from my normal life back in Australia). I will be living the island life for the next week. That is: not being a slave to time, putting in as little effort as possible and having no worries. I’m not alone in this desire as we all stay in Banyalbufar today, either exploring the town or tanning on the terrace.

With this spare time, I was able to write all day but it was a slow process as I kept getting distracted by the view. The blog is quickly turning into more of a detailed diary but I kind of like that.

I foolishly forgot sunscreen today. I was too preoccupied by everything else. I now have a singlet tan (burn) line making me look super bogan. I’ll need to even this out tomorrow. Jeeze life is hard.

We make our own dinner tonight as our kitchen is decked out with all the appliances we need. We even have a cafetierra (percolator) to make coffee for ourselves. Massive win!! We eat ravioli with the napoli sauce we bought at the shops (a million times better than the stuff we can get at home in Australia but it still doesn’t beat nonna’s cooking). We have bruschetta, beers and wine to start as well.

Today has been the perfect day. This is exactly what I need.

I see the second sunset over the water from the terrace before heading back inside to play cards and drink with my fellow travellers. I watch Parks and Recreation before bed and fall asleep in a giddy mood. No need to worry about dreams tonight. All of the beach expeditions we will have over the next week will be better than anything I can think up.

 

The great escape

Day 5

With an early checkout, we left the house at 10:00 and put our luggage in a locker space for the day for 5 euros each and made our way to Sagrada Familia (we pre-booked these tickets too). Took the metro straight to the church. Got there at about 10:30 and had no line whatsoever. Winning!

I had seen pictures of the church before and heard of great things but the sheer scale of it was overwhelming. While the outside was great, the work within had the greatest effect on me. There was so much detail yet it was simultaneously simple. It had been designed by Gaudi in 1883 yet was still current and modern.

His influences from nature created this grace. Columns shaped like tree trunks, ceilings resembling leaves and mouldings imitating flowers all jumped out at me. But his stain glass windows (to the left) caught my eye for the longest period of time. Bright, red, yellow and orange seamlessly meshed with deep blue and green. It was the brightest and most spacious church I had been in.

While Sagrada Familia was spectacular, such an experience was overshadowed by the memory of our escape from Barcelona.

Stupidly, we all thought checking in 45 minutes before our flight was more than sufficient. Firstly, we arrived at the wrong terminal so stress levels began to brew in some of our more anxious travellers but I was still feeling alright as the others assured me we needed very little time to check in. We arrived at the online check-in desk but the line was long.

It felt like we had been waiting forever but it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes as we all started to feel the stress creep up. I was thinking more and more about how much time we had given ourselves and it just seemed wrong. All of our eyes were darting around the airport. I was trying to seem calm so the others wouldn’t go nuts but I was really worried.

It was now just 15 minutes before our flight was scheduled to leave and we finally reached the front of the queue. The woman looked at us with shock as I passed her our boarding passes. She told us our flight was already boarding and we needed to run to the gate with all our luggage. SHIT!!

We ran around to security. Saw a ‘fast line’ and went in but were turned back. It’s only for business class.

We pushed in front of the others in the normal line yelling out in both Spanish and English, apologising as we went. Shaking like crazy, I put my bags through the security scanner first and made my way through. The guard then told me “NO LIQUIDS!” My heart was now racing.

Some of us tried to tell him that we were going to put it under the plane anyway but he wouldn’t listen. Excuses for our delay were thrown around but it was clear to me how it was our fault. We put ourselves in this situation. I took out my l’Occiatane shampoo mum had bought for me and saw it go in the bin. Both of my deodorant sprays went along with my after-sun gel and toothpaste. Thank god he didn’t find my cologne.

Looking down the conveyor belt, I could see each of my friends’ faces. All of us were panting and showing every liquid, asking if it was small enough for us to take on the flight. This was a moment of shared panic I will never forget. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so worried about missing our flight to Mallorca.

I was done first so I quickly zipped up my bag and ran ahead of the group to try and hold the plane.

I was huffing and puffing the whole way down the stairs and through the shops. I’m so unfit. I shouldn’t have eaten all those pastries in Barcelona.

I finally reached our plane with the tickets as the man and woman at the gate were shutting the doors. They said they’d let me on but they couldn’t wait for my friends. I pleaded for them to wait. They stood there for a few moments just staring at me and each other. I nearly reached into my pocket for money as I was quite confused about the situation (do they want a bribe)

I was then told they’d wait 3 minutes but that’s all.

Only a few moments passed before I saw my mates running through the terminal, weaving amongst the crowd, waving their hands and yelling out my name. They checked our passports, tagged our luggage and put it under the plane. Phewf.

We actually made it.

Getting on the plane, the other passengers didn’t look so happy but I couldn’t care less at this point. We spent the rest of the flight retelling our individual stories and breathing heavily. We were even yelled at by another passenger for being too loud. We hadn’t noticed but we had most definitely been yelling at each other on the flight for about 30 minutes. All that adrenaline wasn’t going anywhere.

We arrived in Mallorca at 6:00, got our hire car and made our way to the apartment I’d booked in Banyalbufar. The highway was crammed and the other drivers didn’t seem to care for road rules nor did they understand how an indicator worked. But the worst part was driving through the narrow winding roads in the mountains where we were inches from falling off the cliff. The two drivers dealt with this so well. I would have freaked out if I was in their place.

I was finally calm and back to normal once we reached the town so we made our way up the extremely steep steps (129 of them to be precise) to the house and collapsed onto the cool tiles inside.

The views from the first balcony blew my mind (on the right) but none of us were in the right state of mind to appreciate them. I took a picture, vented my frustrations before bed and went to sleep as quickly as possible. I’d have to appreciate Banyalbufar tomorrow.

 

The madness of Barcelona never ends

Day 3

Woke up knowing we had another big day ahead of us. My mates had already planned a trip to Montserrat which I had never heard of before. I was just going along for the ride even though I had to pay 27 euros to go. I wasn’t really looking forward to it as I was budgeting 50 euros a day without taking accommodation and major transportation into account. Nonetheless, we made our way down the long staircase (to the right), off on our long journey.

We took the metro and then a big yellow cable car up to the main town on the mountain. The views were stunning. While the Park Guell lookouts were over the city, these were across the Catalan countryside. The landscape was covered with small green shrubs and enormous rocks sprouting out of the earth. It was quaintly called the ‘Land of the D’ by one of my girlfriends due to their phallic resemblance.

The best part was hiking around the top once we caught the funicular to the highest point (on the left). Going off the main path, I climbed up a small ledge, moved through some bushes (checking for snakes and other beastly animals) and then crawled up a big boulder until I had a view of the entire mountain, valley and surrounding hillside. I took my necessary selfies and took it all in.

Resting there helped me gain some clarity and calm amidst all of the running around we had been doing. After a short while, I reluctantly pulled myself away from the view and joined the others as we began our descent and return to the city. We laughed and bonded around the mountain that day as we were all in a good mood and could do things at our own pace (I was now very thankful to the others who had organised this day trip).

We had the best dinner this night. Wandering around the Gothic Quarter, we found an expensive looking restaurant which had surprisingly cheap food. We ordered beers and sangria for the table. Food consisted of croquettes, cannelloni, eggs with onions and potato, gazpacho soup, the customary jamon with tomato covered bread, a cheese and cured meats platter, bombas (meat, cheese and potato balls), goats cheese salad and tempura vegetables. All was delicious, all was eaten and all left us super full. And it came to 80 euros for 5 people. BARGAIN!!! – It was called Restaurants Xaloc (definitely worth a try)

Later on, I went out for a drink in a jazz bar around the corner. I was on the lookout for ‘Oviso’ but had to go through the most divey part of the city we came across in order to reach it. Dark, dirty streets with slimy looking people were not so welcoming.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before I came out in a square called Placa de George Orwell (to my surprise there was no homage to Animal Farm or 1984). Local kids were running around the square playing soccer while others just lounged about drinking. This was bliss! Strong drinks, good beer, young and laid back patrons and simple jazz music in the background. And it didn’t hurt to have attractive male waiters serving us.

Finally I’d experienced Barcelona at night. The energy had lifted as the sun sank behind the buildings and the streets cooled down. Lamp posts lit the streets as restaurants filled the open squares. We got back at 11:00 as none of my fellow travellers really stay out late. I was somewhat disappointed but I know that I’ll have plenty of opportunities to meet new people and have big drunk nights out later on. Went to bed a little tipsy. Always a good way to go.

Day 4

Today started with the morning ritual of fresh coffee and pastries from down the street. I could live like this forever, though I’d be super obese super-fast. We slowly got ready and made our way to the Picasso Museum (had already pre-booked tickets) Catching the metro there was easy enough but the girls had to stop and go shopping along the way so us boys waited at Placa de Catalunya.

We eventually made it to the Museum after a rushed walk to the Museum following the long shopping venture. Stepping into the exhibit, I immediately forgot being hot and bothered. I made my way through by myself (I can never go through a gallery or museum with others. I need to do it at my own pace).

I never knew of his early work as a teenager. It was very classic and as far away from cubism as one could get (I appreciate art but I don’t know much about it so I apologise for my inability to name periods and genres correctly). I admire how he chose to forge his own path without imitating the famous artists who came before him. He explored so many new ways of portraying the world around him, becoming a master in his own right.

My favourite part had to be his blue phase. His The subtle use of the one colour created a sombre atmosphere and made me feel somewhat sad (but in a good way). If you know what I mean. Within the same space, I was then lightened by a painting which was meant to depict a group of prisoners but came across as more of a boy band album cover (on the right). Picasso really could do anything.

We all then rushed back to the apartment before the others headed to the airport to pick up our sixth companion. Personally, I had had enough of the running around. I wanted to relax in the city and take it all in by myself so I stayed behind.

They all left and I had peace at last (I can go a little nuts of I don’t get my andytime on a somewhat frequent basis). It was about 2:00 and I wandered around until I found a small café nestled on the corner of our street and a small park with locals smoking and playing guitar. I stayed here eating empanadas for an hour or so, just watching the people go about their daily business. The tourists were running up and down the street talking loudly but the locals were going about life with a laid back ease. That’s what I needed. But alas I had planned to climb up to Montjuic and needed to get going.

I decided to find my way there without a map. I had plenty of time and wanted to explore. Needless to say I got quite lost but the getting lost was the best part of it all. I chilled in a park with local kids playing soccer and skateboarding while music was being played at a small local fete. I did some people watching before asking a local (in very broken Spanish) where Montjuic was. I was surprisingly close.

After scaling the hill for about half an hour, I finally reached the top. I was exhausted but everyone else looked fine. This confused me greatly. I soon realised that they had taken a cable car up to the top while some had even used the metro. I was the only fool who decided to walk up. Still, I had no regrets.

The view was nice but nothing spectacular. I could see Barcelona city from a closer range. It was less like the ideal view we are shown of Barcelona. Perhaps this was more real. The houses were old but more worn out than those in the city centre. It was also a bit dirtier although this is just in relation to the very clean parts of the city I had been walking through during the other days.

The journey back home took half the time as I knew where I was going plus I took a few shortcuts (found some hidden dirt paths which cut straight though the winding roads I had taken earlier). I met up with the others back at the apartment and briefly rested before heading off to the Barcelona Gay Pride March.

I had never really had any desire to be a part of the gay scene back in Melbourne but I couldn’t miss this while I was here. All of my fellow aussie travellers are straight but were still keen to see the parade. The ‘Gay Pride Village’ and the end of the march was placed right in front of the old palace. The sea of rainbow flags, and masses of topless men in front of such a structure made for quite a unique viewing experience.

Despite being a gay man myself, I did feel out of place. I may be gay but don’t really identity with the rest of the gay community. It was a strange feeling which I struggled to come to terms with. Nonetheless, I soon got over this as the march made its way past us. We took our shameless selfies, danced along to the pop music, talked to fellow onlookers and participants and just generally wandered around. I felt like an outsider but still had a great time. I wanted to stay longer and party the night away with all of the revellers but my straight friends had no interest in that.

We soon left and made our way to dinner and drinks back in the gothic quarter. We ended the night at the same bar we drank at the night before. I had to have an aperol spritz both because it was one of my favourite drinks and because there had been advertisements for them all over Barcelona (the ads definitely worked on me). The night ended early at 11:30 but I still had fun. I was buzzed but sad to say goodbye to Barcelona at night (a completely different city to Barcelona during the day).

I will have to return sometime soon to truly experience the Barcelona nightlife but for now I was looking forward to our next destination: Mallorca.

 

 

 

Straight into the madness of Barcelona

Day 1

My hair was a mess of grease and the odour wafting from my body was far from pleasant. I had finally arrived in Barcelona after being trapped in airports and planes for 28 hours. I only managed a few short naps throughout the journey but was now super excited to see the famous city. We all met up and made our way to the metro (We were a group of 5 at this point).

Getting tickets and finding our way in was easy enough. All we needed to do was ask the old Spanish ticket inspector for help. Buying a T-10 ticket for all of us to use was the best way to go about public transport. We could all share it and each trip amounted to a little over 1 euro each.

Coming out of Passeig de Gracia Station, we were immediately confronted by Casa Batllo. Not too bad to see Gaudi architecture from the get go. I was quickly distracted by the rest of my surroundings. Looking up and around the city was overwhelming. Modern shops within old and grand architecture lined the streets. The old and the new meshed remarkably well.

We eventually found our apartment on Carrer de Joaquin Costa (on the left) and made our way up to the room. After climbing over 6 flights of stairs, I collapsed on the wooden floors panting. Cooling down and getting water was task number one. The tap water wasn’t great but I really didn’t care at this point.

By this time it was 5:00 and sunny. We unpacked and ventured all the way across the road to eat homemade pizza, empanadas and calzones. Fresh oregano atop the food with a dash of olive oil was perfect. It wasn’t traditional Spanish food but we were too tired to care and go exploring. It was delicious and filling. That’s all I needed. Shopping for breakie food and getting in bed was next on the agenda. We were asleep by 9:00 even though the sun was still up and people were still running around outside. No time to write in my diary. Sleep took precedence.

Day 2

Breakfast was just toast and fruit this morning as we woke up at 6:30 and nothing else was open in town. Leaving at 9:00, we wandered on down to La Ramblas and the Gothic Quarter to get a free tour. Fresh pastries distracted us as we shared chocolate croissants and our first Catalan Crèma. The custard was delish but coffee was a must.

After using my ‘Europe on a Shoestring’ travel book, I ordered (like a boss) all of us café con leche which was nearly as good as Melbourne coffee. This is where my skills in speaking Spanish began and ended. I usually have soy milk but was not up for trying to figure that one out. I’d just deal with having a blocked nose and being a little phlegmy around Europe. Sorry (not sorry) for that titbit of information.

Taking a free 2 hour tour around the old town was exactly what we all needed to get a brief history of Barcelona and get our bearings. There are a number of tours you can choose and then pay whatever you think it is worth at the end. We chose “Runner Bean” and got Jessi as a guide. She was a fellow aussie who had been living in Europe for over 5 years. We couldn’t have had better. She was down to earth, interesting and more than willing to help us take photos (even when we secretly preferred taking group selfies). I highly recommend using them as they also do a daily Gaudi walking tour. They start from Placa de Reial at both 11:00 and 4:00. She gives great bar and tapas suggestions as well.

After a half day of walking we crammed in a trek to Park Guell as we had already pre-booked our tickets (this is the first year it isn’t free). Taking the metro nearby following signs there was too easy. We walked straight up to the monuments section and had no line. Gaudi’s creations were subtly complex. A mixture over understatement and in your face weird. The gingerbread looking houses (to the right) weren’t of my taste but the mosaic benches, grand columns and the gecko statue were perfect. Even wondering through a sea of lavender, gardenias and other flowers was peaceful. I could have sat there for days.

We continued up the hill, pausing from lookout to lookout. Each time we stopped, the view got better and the onslaught of selfies started again. Continuing upwards we found our way to the summit of the hill where a small tower stood. I carefully made my way up as there were no railings.

Suddenly, I was faced with a remarkable view (picture on the left). We overlooked the park and the whole city of Barcelona with the bright blue ocean laying behind it. The day was clear and the breeze was comforting. I had never seen anything so striking. The terracotta rooves, wide promenades lined with trees and Sagrada Familia stood out the most. The walk was tiring and it was difficult to find but I will not forget that old cityscape nor our groups adventure up to the summit.

Unfortunately, all of this exercise left me in a foul mood as we looked for a dinner place back in the city. It was ‘Paella Thursday’ so we were hunting for such a feast. We wanted something nearby but there was little around. The others stopped at a restaurant full of Americans ordering watered down Spanish food. Eating at such a place is prohibited in my books. I always look for the places where the locals eat. Fortunately they had no room for us so we moved on. The others weren’t happy with my vocal joy when we were turned down. I should have just gone along with the others as I was alone in having these feelings but places like that are my pet hate.

Eventually we settled on a random place because we were all tired. It was a bit of an awkward dinner because we were so exhausted. I felt like a bit of an alcoholic being the only one drinking beer but a juice was not going to help me calm down. Unfortunately, the food was average but, after ordering 8 tapas and paella, it only came to 11 euros each.

We headed home and went to bed. It was a really good day but also a shame to have it end on a bad note. Luckily, I was able to have some andytime and sit in silence while writing my personal travel diary. A good way to vent out my frustrations and not forget the small details of the day.

Note to self: must not keep it lying around the apartment for others to read…