Vamos a La Playa!

A Mi Me Gusta Barça

By Grace Carballo ‘17

My first excursion outside of Madrid was to Barcelona because I have the good fortune of having family there at the moment and I needed a familiar face so badly I would have settled for a photo of a familiar face. Or maybe a 3D printed copy now that 3D Printers are a thing. But I didn’t have to settle, because I had the real thing- my cousin Bob is living and working in Barcelona with 14 other entrepreneurs and he graciously hosted my friend, Lauren, who is studying in Granada, and myself. Blood is thicker than water, as they say, and speaking of this, the water in Barcelona is mierda so you gotta buy it bottled everywhere you go.

Go big or go home, as they say. (In person they look more absurd)

Also you may have noticed from the sign on the Supermercado that they use Catalán in Barcelona more-so than Spanish, which confused me greatly and probably set me back about 3 days in progress. We mostly spoke English and it was amazing knowing so many words again- I was using synonyms and really elaborate adjectives just because I could- but I’m trying to speak only Spanish again now that I’m back in Madrid.

Bob is truly a gem, especially given the fact that he moved into his place a mere 3 days before we arrived, and most people don’t love having visitors when they’re mid-move and have a lot of work to do, but he was as excited to host as I was to be there! Amigos, primos, friends for life.

If you don’t have time to read all of this, some talking points: my time in Barcelona was jam-packed with food, tourism, getting lost, more food, asking for directions, a club, a beach, eying everyone suspiciously for fear of pick-pocketers, great weather, great running, and the greatest people.

Lauren and I ran the Chicago Marathon together this fall (with my best friend Evan who I met in Birnkrant freshman year) and we have run all sorts of cool places with our cross-country team in high school (most notably Iowa, Peoria, and Portland) but there’s something so magnificent about the opportunity to run with your teammate and best pal in an entirely different continent. Four years ago, we became close because of the deep talks that long runs inevitably generate and it was only natural, this was our method of choice to fill each other in on our first impressions of Madrid and Granada. Our “quick run” turned into a two hour ordeal, but not necessarily because we’re super fit or anything; we just got a little turned around on the way back.

If you want my opinion, and you may not but here it is, my favorite place in Barcelona is definitely Park Güell. It’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. Gaudi, ya done good, kid.

It’s supposed to be a public park and he’s probably rolling around in his grave knowing they now charge 8 euros to get to see the coolest stuff, but it was worth it, even if I could have gotten 5 coffees for the same price. I fully intend to borrow some of his ideas in my future home décor because crazy patterns and colorful mosaics and almost other-worldly shapes and designs speak to me.

I feel like the park just brings out the best in everyone. All the tourists are more than willing to offer to take photos for one another and there’s a real camaraderie in knowing that this is probably going to be a photo they cherish forever, show everyone back home like it or not, and maybe even make their profile picture (guilty). Also Park Güell makes everyone look good, because it was designed in the age before filters.

Whenever you’re in Barcelona you HAVE to at least drop by La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s unfinished masterpiece. It is well worth the trip and paying for the tour (buy online and skip the line if you’re not about that life, like us).

It is still under construction, as you can see in the photo, and one of the men on our tour had been on a tour 15 years prior and got to see all the changes. That’s why it’s not a one-and-done sort of destination.

I like the idea of an “unfinished masterpiece” like La Sagrada Familia; it’s even a cool way to describe oneself. Just accepting that there’s always more work to be done but reveling in the progress you’ve already made and the high hopes you have for the future. What’s the rush, you know?

I learned in our tour that Gaudi died knowing he wouldn’t finish it and he left a lot of creative freedom to future generations, but still with plans and guidelines for his final vision. It’s the most eclectic and impressive building I’ve ever seen. Bob and I sent so many pictures to our grandparents and Great-Auntie Fran because that’s what family is for and you should always celebrate when your elders know how to operate iPhones and the like. 

The stained glass windows on the inside change the look of the whole interior as the light shifts and the sculptures on the outside are so beautiful that they could probably put the fear of God in a very outspoken atheist.

Barcelona also has lots and lots of beaches, and thank goodness because they were super crowded. Like a lot of beaches in Europe, it’s totally normal for women to go topless here, which whenever someone mentions I always hear as “tapas” probably because that’s where my priorities lie.

We would’ve stayed at the beach hours longer but the European Cup soccer game was that night in Germany and Barcelona was playing so we met Bob and his coworkers in a bar to watch the excitement and become fair-weather fans because the situation called for it. We were late, what else is new, and every single goal or close play or bad call, the whole street on every street we walked down erupted into cheers or screams. It made for a very adrenaline-filled walk because anyone who was anyone was watching and everyone was invested and soon, I was, too.

We won (see how quickly Barcelona became my team). I’m mostly joking about that; my little brother, Nick, is significantly more invested in this sort of thing, but Barcelona really did win and I thought I was hearing gun shots but they were just people lighting off flares in the streets. The celebration afterwards was crazy and lasted until the wee hours of the morning. I know this because I am the worst and booked an 8 AM flight, which required me (and Bob- bless his sweet, protective older cousin, soul) to wake up at 4:30 to catch a bus back to the airport. We got to see the aftermath, which is often the funniest part, and it definitely livened up the walk to the station.

They say that the joy is in the journey, not the destination and in terms of Barcelona I can say that does not apply at all. My airport experiences were pretty gnarly, though the way there was so easy I wasn’t even asked to show a boarding pass before my gate- they either mistook me for a pilot or have alarmingly lax security. My flight times on both Friday and Sunday were sickeningly early to save money and resulted in one irritable traveler, but the amazing destination and people I shared it with, made it all worth it.