And oh, magnificent it was. I'll give you a little taste of it tonight. Only a morsel.
My best friend and I flew from Toronto to Barcelona. After arriving at the airport, we manuevered our way underground and into their metro station, taking full advantage of their impressively developed infrastructure. It was easy enough, mind you, having a best friend who is beautifully fluent en Espanol was perhaps a little help. Soon enough, after several subway transfers and a bus ride which gave us our first delicious gulp of the architecture and demography in Barcelona, we arrived at our hostel.
(I will write a review about the particular hostel in another post.)
We were handed our room keys and some clean blue bedsheets and given the directions to our room. Smiles were spotted on the faces of those lounging in the lobby and they spilled onto the faces of those enjoying a cigarette on the terrace. The Spanish sun was all over. The energy and excitement of newly arriving travellers could be felt like vibrations. We were aching to drop our backpacks and duffel bags and get outside to explore. Which is exactly what we did.
We dumped our bags, stuffed them in the lockers allotted to us and almost ran out into the street prepared for our first adventure.
We decided to discover the French influenced Parc de Montjuic. This park covered the ground of the city's museum, the proud Olympic stadium and convention centre. Several kilometres north was a Castel which immediately caught our eye. Of course we would visit a medieval Spanish castle!
(to be continued...)
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