Barcelona. A beautiful city where old school Gothic meets Gaudí, where big city meets the Mediterranean, where the rest of the world comes to experience Spain. It is filled with foreigners from every inch of the globe (we met people from England, Holland and more) who all are just as happy to be there as you. There are tents, shops, bars, pubs, malls, ports, statues, museums, architectural masterpieces, good food and great drinks. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and if I said it once I said it a million times, "Man, I'm just happy to be here."
Brittany, her mom Kirsten, and I took a 6 and a half hour overnight bus to Barcelona (
worth it.) We arrived Saturday morning bright and early and stayed in Hesperia del Port, right on Ave Paral.lel which was a 5 minute walk from the huge statue of Cristóbal Colón. We spent most of the first day eating and strolling down La Rambla. We spent more money there than we care to remember. I had the best Nutella crepe of my life here. Casa Pedrera and Casa Batlló, two famous Gaudí buildings, were like nothing we had seen before.
That night we met up with Chastidy, Eva and Heather, three other girls from UCF who came to Barcelona for the weekend. It was St. Patrick's Day, after all, and we passed plenty of adorned Irish Pubs on our leisurely stroll through downtown Barcelona. It took us a solid 45 minutes to find a pub that wasn't crammed to the brim full of people. We found one on a corner street and proceeded to order our Guinness. Not long after, we began to speak to the Hawaiian shirt-clad
group of drunken Englishmen standing next to us at the bar. They were a bachelor party, and the groom-to-be was dressed in what I believe was supposed to be a penguin(?) costume and pink tights. Drawn on said tights were a certain body part, complete with huge vein and hair. Try to imagine a British accent coming from a drunken penguin yelling, "Touch my penis! Touch it, go on! It's my penis!" Well long story short we all had to touch it (and poor Eva unfortunately got a handful of the real thing.) I got my Guinness, so I was happy, and Brittany got her vodka negro, so she was happy. Soon we migrated to another bar, where we happened to run into another English bachelor party. We kept the bar open past hours but were finally asked to leave, but our bartender Lucy took us to a club where she knew a guy. All of us, British blokes included, ended up at the biggest and craziest club I've ever seen. It had 2-4 levels/floors/rooms with different music playing and different crowds dancing, and a huge wraparound bar. This was where our night ended at 6 am.
Sunday we slept in a bit and then headed out for another adventure. By now I had become a dedicated FC Barcelona fan and wore the jersey all day. Never in my life have I been more popular than in Barcelona with a Messi 10 shirt on. I don't miss Real Madrid at all - I don't care how sexy Cristiano Ronaldo is. But I digress. We spent most of our day on and off the bus around Barca, stopping to see the Sagrada Familia building (spectacular) and the Park Güell, a Seuss-like masterpiece of a park produced by Gaudí. McDonalds in Spain, by the way, is more expensive but of much better quality.
The trip itself was worth the bus rides, train rides, and all the money and time invested. It is truly a magnificent place. The vibe and feeling you get there are incomparable. The beggars, the pickpockets, the calls, the creeps, the cold wind.. None of that can take away the feeling that being in Barcelona gives you.
Black vodka .. can't beat it
Three of my students are the Munera Gonzalez family: Maria, and her twins Carla and Hugo. They are 4, turning 5 next week, and they just happen to be the cutest children on the face of the planet. I love the whole family if we're being honest here..
Let me begin by making something clear. In Navaleno, we don't have much. But what we do have is the biggest pool in all of Soria (take that) and the best sausages (salchichas) this side of the Duero. Navaleno boasts it's delicious and plentiful supply of mushrooms, most notably, the coveted truffle (trufa.) So what better way to celebrate Spanish culture than to put 
something you take pride in (truffles) and add it to something that all Spaniards already love (meat products.) The product of this heavenly union is Navaleno's prize salchichas. What started out as an innocent desire for said sausages turned into a white trash bachelorette party really fast. Despite their less-than-enticing appearance, these sausages were the best I've ever had. Yeah, you can quote me on that.
Brittany, her mom Kirsten, and I took a 6 and a half hour overnight bus to Barcelona (worth it.) We arrived Saturday morning bright and early and stayed in Hesperia del Port, right on Ave Paral.lel which was a 5 minute walk from the huge statue of Cristóbal Colón. We spent most of the first day eating and strolling down La Rambla. We spent more money there than we care to remember. I had the best Nutella crepe of my life here. Casa Pedrera and Casa Batlló, two famous Gaudí buildings, were like nothing we had seen before.
group of drunken Englishmen standing next to us at the bar. They were a bachelor party, and the groom-to-be was dressed in what I believe was supposed to be a penguin(?) costume and pink tights. Drawn on said tights were a certain body part, complete with huge vein and hair. Try to imagine a British accent coming from a drunken penguin yelling, "Touch my penis! Touch it, go on! It's my penis!" Well long story short we all had to touch it (and poor Eva unfortunately got a handful of the real thing.) I got my Guinness, so I was happy, and Brittany got her vodka negro, so she was happy. Soon we migrated to another bar, where we happened to run into another English bachelor party. We kept the bar open past hours but were finally asked to leave, but our bartender Lucy took us to a club where she knew a guy. All of us, British blokes included, ended up at the biggest and craziest club I've ever seen. It had 2-4 levels/floors/rooms with different music playing and different crowds dancing, and a huge wraparound bar. This was where our night ended at 6 am.
The trip itself was worth the bus rides, train rides, and all the money and time invested. It is truly a magnificent place. The vibe and feeling you get there are incomparable. The beggars, the pickpockets, the calls, the creeps, the cold wind.. None of that can take away the feeling that being in Barcelona gives you.
Burgo de Osma is a small town. Brittany, her mom and I spent the afternoon there as we waited for our 12:00 am to 6:30 am bus to Barcelona. It was quaint and pretty and cold. Some young Spanish boys follow us around to a little shop that had the best eclairs and ice cream. The cathedral and Plaza Mayor were beautiful.
