"Baaaaaaarcelooooooona"
Freddie Mercury belts it like the only way the name of a city this beautiful should be sung. And yes, the only way to do this city justice when uttering it's name is by singing it like the late, self-proclaimed "gay-as-a-daffodil" diva Freddie Mercury. Montserrat Caballé provides her operatic complements, my favorite line being por ti seré la gaviota de tu bella mar (I will be the seagull to your beautiful sea). What it would be like to fall in love in Barcelona, to want to be la gaviota to your amante's bella mar...
But my journey was anything but beautiful when it began. It began in traffic, the traffic that seems to be a staple of getting to JFK. Then there was a $150 extra charge for extra heavy baggage (I should have gained 200 pounds and left my clothes at home so I would have had something actually worth paying extra for: my extra ass). Then I had to take a shuttle to a different terminal and yes, I'm purposefully skipping over security because that process is always miserable. Once at my gate, I had to get my seat assignment at basically the back of the plane which was really just fabulous. On the plane, I was welcomed by a mysterious pile of wet paper towels on my seat. It gets worse. The guy sitting next to me puts the crap in a plastic bag for me to give to a flight attendant for proper disposal and as I'm taking the bag from him, I'm trying to keep my brace-face hidden because this guy, my plane neighbor, for the first time in my life, was a well-built, attractive, sociable young man. Dear God, thank you for your incredible (insert sarcasm here) timing. Not only that, we were stuck on the runway for an extra hour because we went from being 11th to 15th in line to take off. I hated Delta, I hated JFK, I hated my dentist, and I hated myself. So to spite the world, being the mature 20-year-old that I am, I refused food and slept for the next 7 hours.
And then we land. I emerge into a glass castle of an airport, meet some IES Abroad staff to talk about the program, and step into a cab so I can silently admire Barcelona and its blue skies passing by. I got to the apartment pretty soon after. The first floor of the building is a pet supply store and the lobby is a small section cut out of that first floor. Like the other buildings in the neighborhood, it's old but solid stone and classically beautiful. But the best part of all is the old-fashioned elevator. That's all I'll say about my living situation for now. Pictures to come...
My first day in Barcelona also means that it's my first of a 60-day committed relationship with Barcelona's food. We went grocery shopping after our walk, exploring the extensive selection of hams and produce the market had to offer. But the culinary highlight of the day: tapas up the street from us on Avinguda Gran Via de les Corts.
Freddie Mercury belts it like the only way the name of a city this beautiful should be sung. And yes, the only way to do this city justice when uttering it's name is by singing it like the late, self-proclaimed "gay-as-a-daffodil" diva Freddie Mercury. Montserrat Caballé provides her operatic complements, my favorite line being por ti seré la gaviota de tu bella mar (I will be the seagull to your beautiful sea). What it would be like to fall in love in Barcelona, to want to be la gaviota to your amante's bella mar...
But my journey was anything but beautiful when it began. It began in traffic, the traffic that seems to be a staple of getting to JFK. Then there was a $150 extra charge for extra heavy baggage (I should have gained 200 pounds and left my clothes at home so I would have had something actually worth paying extra for: my extra ass). Then I had to take a shuttle to a different terminal and yes, I'm purposefully skipping over security because that process is always miserable. Once at my gate, I had to get my seat assignment at basically the back of the plane which was really just fabulous. On the plane, I was welcomed by a mysterious pile of wet paper towels on my seat. It gets worse. The guy sitting next to me puts the crap in a plastic bag for me to give to a flight attendant for proper disposal and as I'm taking the bag from him, I'm trying to keep my brace-face hidden because this guy, my plane neighbor, for the first time in my life, was a well-built, attractive, sociable young man. Dear God, thank you for your incredible (insert sarcasm here) timing. Not only that, we were stuck on the runway for an extra hour because we went from being 11th to 15th in line to take off. I hated Delta, I hated JFK, I hated my dentist, and I hated myself. So to spite the world, being the mature 20-year-old that I am, I refused food and slept for the next 7 hours.
And then we land. I emerge into a glass castle of an airport, meet some IES Abroad staff to talk about the program, and step into a cab so I can silently admire Barcelona and its blue skies passing by. I got to the apartment pretty soon after. The first floor of the building is a pet supply store and the lobby is a small section cut out of that first floor. Like the other buildings in the neighborhood, it's old but solid stone and classically beautiful. But the best part of all is the old-fashioned elevator. That's all I'll say about my living situation for now. Pictures to come...
I have two roommates, Karina and Joanna, who are both from the U.S. and 20 years old like me. We ventured out in the late afternoon and walked through the plaza near by, walking up to the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, appreciating the city's utilization of outdoor escalators and anticipating how magical the Magic Fountain will really be when we get to see it in action this weekend. But more on that later.
el museo
My first day in Barcelona also means that it's my first of a 60-day committed relationship with Barcelona's food. We went grocery shopping after our walk, exploring the extensive selection of hams and produce the market had to offer. But the culinary highlight of the day: tapas up the street from us on Avinguda Gran Via de les Corts.
Assortment of tapas on toasted bread
From 6 o'clock going clockwise:
warm brie with grated truffle, shaved serrano ham, seafood salad with potato, crab salad, potato omelette
Assortment of tapas salads
From left to right:
potato salad with smoked salmon, pasta salad with shrimp topped with crushed mango, mozzarella and tomato salad with olives and toasted walnuts in fresh olive oil, tuna and other misc. fish salad
And so my life in Catalonia begins, to the song of Freddie and Montserrat's melodious duet.
"Barcelona! Such a beautiful horizon
Barcelona! Like a jewel in the sun
Por ti seré gaviota de tu bella mar"
hahaha i love your airplane story :P i'm hoping i'll have better luck than you in 2 months... can't wait for the tapas!
ReplyDelete