¡Yo Soy en Barcelona!

So we made it, it was rather rough, but we made it.

Step 1: Walk to Prince´s Street and pay 6 quid to take a shuttle to the airport
Step 2: Wait in line for an hour or so to get bag checked.
Step 3: Get through security-unless you´re Jonathan and forget that you´ve left a bottle of Irn Bru in your bag.
Step 4: Wait for plane
Step 5: Wait in queue that is supposed to be for boarding until you realize that Ryanair sucks and the plane hasn´t even arrived yet.
Step 6 : Ride on plane where they try and have you buy each and every thing imaginable.
Step 7: Arrive in Gerona and wait in line for another 20 or so minutes while you realize that passport control is only screening the EU citizens and you have to wait until they´re all done.
Step 8: Get bag and board bus bound for Barcelona-sit in the back right in front of two couples making out like the world is about to end.
Step 9: Get to the train station and get on the commuter train as opposed to the Metro and go in the wrong direction.
Step 10: Remember enough Spanish to ask directions and find the right train.
Step 11: Get off of Metro train and realize how beautiful Barcelona really is.

Needless to say, yesterday was quite of an experience, and all of the above steps were just for getting to the hostel. Thankfully, using Ryanair didn´t turn out to be as bad as forecasted. Only a bit of delay getting on the plane, which was erased by arriving a half hour early in Geron-although I suspect that like any other "discount" airline, they post a much longer flight time so they can take pride in getting you there early. (It´s also not that encouraging when they play Revelry when you get on the ground, as if doing so was more of a rarity than it should be.

After we manged to sort out the train thing we were able to really savor the city. After droppin our stuff off at the hostel we patroled Las Ramblas-one of the most gorgeous and notororiously squeezy parts of town. We got really crappy pizza at a really crappy pizza place because it was nearly 1AM before we got going and that was about our only option. So after being kicked out of the retaurant (so they could close) we sat on a park bench and just watched gaggles and gaggles of people go by on their way out for the night. Then we decieded we wanted a glass of wine to finish off the night. In the process of finding this glass of wine we were offered sex from a not so pretty prostitute, and drugs from abotu 5 different guys-ranging from pot to coke. Needless to say, Barça was quite interesting. But we found out wine, chatted with a Swede who was stranded in the city for the night, and was able to take it all in slowly.

It´s so weird thinking that I´m actually in Spain. This seemed like such a far off dream, a mirage that would always be planned but never realized. Yet here I am. Despite getting just a coupel of hours of sleep last night-because of people buzzing in at 6 in the morning, the rock hard pillow and the lack of blanket-Jonathan, Cliff, and I are about to get dressed and take on the town. Today, Parc Guell, the Picasso Museum, and maybe the beach. While it still does feel like a dream to a certain extent it certainly has been an amazing one so far!