10:45 AM Advanced Spanish Writing Seminar
12:45 PM Massive stomach ache and meet and old business associate and friend of my mother's simultaneously
1:30 - 3:00 PM Buy a black skirt and sunglasses for 10 euro at H&M while walking home from class and bum indoors before...
wait for it...
bumming OUTDOORS!
Where in the world can you ride a beautiful and clean urban subway to a beautiful and pristine (pristine > clean) beach? Where?!
Barcelona. Barceloneta is the beach my roommates and I went to today and also the most popular in the city. The metro stop for the beach is named after this particular stretch of union between scintillating Catalonian sand and the Mediterranean. In this fantasy world where Dalí dreamed with his eyes open and the sun sets at 9 o'clock, 3 o'clock is as good a time as any to set a towel down and simultaneously admire and disapprove of the beautiful (and not so beautiful) European women with their tops off, sunny side up. I would have taken a photo for you but I'm not so indecent as to make this blog more rated R than it needs to be. Occasional profane language is enough.
I spent three hours out there with Cormac McCarthy and all his pretty horses (although as of now in the novel, there have only been a handful of horses and none of them have been described as exceptionally pretty). But the beauty of the beach was clearly not my reading. It was the sun and the sea, the sand, and people-watching. It's amazing how in my childhood I adopted whatever opinions and views my sisters had. I was therefore once a mountain/lake person as opposed to a beach-body. Oh how mistaken my little soul was. I've since developed my own personality and listen up y'all: I love the beach and the beach loves me back.
At six o'clock, the sun was still high in the sky but we were all starving so we walked down the boardwalk and met this lazy cat:
He's a minor character in my story but he was worth the snapshot. He represents the general atmosphere of this city: laid back, bro. I'm going to get used to weekly visits to the beach, I don't worry about that.
A juicebox, gelato, train ride, and grocery store later, we're back at the apartment cooking dinner.
Yes, I'm adding pork to my diet this summer. Surrounded by serrano ham and chorizo, it would be a sin to call myself a foodie and not take a heaping mouthful of the local yummies.
As the sun was setting, we headed up to the roof of our building for the first time. First, a photo of the elevator from above:
More photos of the elevator and the building in general are to come but in the meantime, we have to get to the roof.
And that was my day. Exploration and relaxation before my internship interview tomorrow and first week of classes and work coming up next Monday. Speaking of which, I should go to bed before I let this blog become my full-time job. Good night folks. Don't be too jealous, but be a little bit jealous. You should be.
12:45 PM Massive stomach ache and meet and old business associate and friend of my mother's simultaneously
1:30 - 3:00 PM Buy a black skirt and sunglasses for 10 euro at H&M while walking home from class and bum indoors before...
wait for it...
bumming OUTDOORS!
Where in the world can you ride a beautiful and clean urban subway to a beautiful and pristine (pristine > clean) beach? Where?!
Barcelona. Barceloneta is the beach my roommates and I went to today and also the most popular in the city. The metro stop for the beach is named after this particular stretch of union between scintillating Catalonian sand and the Mediterranean. In this fantasy world where Dalí dreamed with his eyes open and the sun sets at 9 o'clock, 3 o'clock is as good a time as any to set a towel down and simultaneously admire and disapprove of the beautiful (and not so beautiful) European women with their tops off, sunny side up. I would have taken a photo for you but I'm not so indecent as to make this blog more rated R than it needs to be. Occasional profane language is enough.
Spaniards and the sea
I spent three hours out there with Cormac McCarthy and all his pretty horses (although as of now in the novel, there have only been a handful of horses and none of them have been described as exceptionally pretty). But the beauty of the beach was clearly not my reading. It was the sun and the sea, the sand, and people-watching. It's amazing how in my childhood I adopted whatever opinions and views my sisters had. I was therefore once a mountain/lake person as opposed to a beach-body. Oh how mistaken my little soul was. I've since developed my own personality and listen up y'all: I love the beach and the beach loves me back.
At six o'clock, the sun was still high in the sky but we were all starving so we walked down the boardwalk and met this lazy cat:
Señor Gatito
He's a minor character in my story but he was worth the snapshot. He represents the general atmosphere of this city: laid back, bro. I'm going to get used to weekly visits to the beach, I don't worry about that.
A juicebox, gelato, train ride, and grocery store later, we're back at the apartment cooking dinner.
Pasta with chorizo, chicken, tomato, garlic, olive oil, and melted emmental cheese
Yes, I'm adding pork to my diet this summer. Surrounded by serrano ham and chorizo, it would be a sin to call myself a foodie and not take a heaping mouthful of the local yummies.
As the sun was setting, we headed up to the roof of our building for the first time. First, a photo of the elevator from above:
Old-fashioned elevator
More photos of the elevator and the building in general are to come but in the meantime, we have to get to the roof.
La Gran Via, the street I live on
Notice the abundance of trees
A courtyard/park shared by my building and its block
I'm pointing to the Catalonian art museum I mentioned in my first Barcelona post
I'm wearing pants. The shirt just happens to be long.
And that was my day. Exploration and relaxation before my internship interview tomorrow and first week of classes and work coming up next Monday. Speaking of which, I should go to bed before I let this blog become my full-time job. Good night folks. Don't be too jealous, but be a little bit jealous. You should be.
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