Barcelona on Crutches

Before my term abroad in Spain, I had the misfortune of breaking my ankle in two places.  The doctors recommended not to go, considering the fact that it was iffy to go abroad a mere week in a half after surgery but I was determined and left anyway.  I had my bones nailed together and my leg sown up and took off a week later.  It wasn’t until when I finally arrived in Spain that it hit me how iffy my experience was actually going to be.

            The doctor’s orders had been two more weeks on crutches, then one week on one crutch, then the following week with just the boot.  That seemed like nothing to me so I said I was all in.  Little did I know just how hard it was going to be to have to crutch around everywhere in Spain.

            The people in Spain stared at me bewildered the first few days I hopped around.  I seemed to be some sort of alien from another planet to them.  Luckily for me, they are friendly to aliens because I was helped countless times by strangers to cross the street or gimp down stairways.  Though they looked at me a bit strange they still offered a helping hand.

            It only took me a week to realize what the big deal was; it was my crutches.  To me they were sturdy and supportive of my whole upper body, but to the Spaniards they were fat robotic sticks.  I had passed several other people on crutches in the city and couldn’t help but notice how they wrapped twig-like rods around their elbows for support.  In comparison to their crutches, I must have looked massive to these people.

            What’s more is that people on crutches here seem to have mastered the art of taking the bus.  I’m not exaggerating when I say it is an art.  Being able to hop on board, swipe your ticket and crutch smoothly down an isle to a seat is no easy task, believe me I’ve tried.  To them it’s like a nice dip in the pool, quick and elegant.  To me it’s like a UFC cage match.  I’m thrown left and right and don’t always know which way is up once the bus starts moving. There’s definitely technique involved.

            So far I’ve spent the majority of my time in Spain in Barcelona.  Being on crutches has limited my adventures to the bus stop, hobbling around school, and showers (showers are a whole different art in themselves).  I’ve managed to see a bit of Las Ramblas, discover a few good places to eat, and meet a bunch of friendly Spaniards to help me hobble onward with my life.  Things seemed to be moving along.

            Unfortunately this week I learned some not so good news that would once again slow me down.  I have been visiting the doctor frequently to have an eye kept on the incisions on my ankle to make sure everything heals well.  The hospitals here are quite like the ones back home with the exception of everyone talking in a different language.  The stairs even have a handicap lift to carry me to the door which I quite enjoy and it makes the place seem very welcoming.

            Everything seemed to be going fine until a few days ago when yellow and black pus began to form along the cut on the inside of my right foot.  The doctors picked and pulled at the dead skin and the nurses held my hands and kissed my cheeks as they tried to clean it, but it only seemed to be getting worse.  It was then they decided I was to be put on bed rest for 5 days to let my cut heal.  No more cage fights for me.

             The last few days I’ve spent in bed, making up homework and watching movies online, trying to give my cut time to heal.  I’m chauffeured everyday to and from the hospital by taxi, which the school pays for, to have my wound cleaned and things are starting to look up.  All the nurses at the hospital love me and I’m greeted with hugs and kisses every time I go to see the doctor.  They speak to me in Spanish and are very impressed with how well I understand them, though I did tell them I understand it better than I speak it.

            My trip so far has obviously not been the adventure I wanted to have during my time here in Spain, but it has definitely been one hell of a time.  There is still plenty of time to enjoy it the way I had hoped and with the way my cut has been healing, it shouldn’t be long before I’m off crutches and ready to take on Europe with both shoes on my feet. 

            For now, I just have wait a bit longer and keep my fingers crossed everything goes smoothly.  When it’s all said and done, hopefully my right shoe will still fit when it’s all over.

Fat Grampa

So far one of the best parts of living in Barcelona has been the food.  Living in a big city with trams, busses, taxis, subways and countless vespas zooming around the streets leaves room for endless eateries for people to hurry off to.  Food here is everywhere.

Every street in Barcelona is decked out in fancy clubs/bars, alleys fitted with bakeries and pizzerias, and every now and then a sweet shop.  For me, my hot spot has been Las Ramblas.  Located right across the plaza from my school, it makes for the perfect lunch spot.  Being on crutches doesn't let me get very far so it's nice to have so many options so close.  I've only covered the first two alleys closest to the beginning of the street and so far have found amazing food.

My first encounter was with a bakery right on the corner of the street.  It was a small spanish-style baker loaded with breads and pastries in the window and immediately drew me in.  The sweet smell of soft fluffy bread lured me in and once my eyes caught sight of the sandwiches and sweets, I instantly became their favorite customer.  I soon found out though that all the bakeries were dressed this way with stained wood counters and spanish styled tiles, but at the moment my mobility is limited so I stick with what's close.

Bakery Counter

Corner of Las Ramblas

Sandwiches Galore!

The other day I had asked my madre what the spanish term for crutching or hopping was and learned they call it "grampa" here.  It's pronounced differently then the American word "grandpa" but sounds very similar and I can't help but feel it a bit ironic that i'm "grampa-ing" around on crutches.  What's more is the actual grandpas here all like the closer bakeries too and when I pile that on to several days of people rushing to help me cross a street or go downstairs I start to feel like a "grampa" myself.

Another succulent place to find a meal is La Boqueria.  This too is along Las Ramblas and has the freshest fruit anyone could hope for.  Those of you from Washington, think of Pike Place Market, subtract the hippie art and clothing booths, then double the food options and you've got La Boqueria.  Here there are stands upon stands of fresh fruit, chocolate, meat cuts, fish cuts, bakeries, nuts, any food you can think of and it's there.  I "grampa-ed" over there with my roommate one day before classes and was blown away.

 After walking through the food maze for a few minutes we finally decided on a fresh cup of mango, though I did struggle between this and the strawberry cup.  No doubt I will be going back to try it.

Shortly after sitting down to eat we were kicked out by the restaurant police for sitting at a Dunkin' Coffee (Dunkin' Donuts) when we weren't their customers.  Whoops.

The last hot spot for "grampas" like me is the Corte de Inglés. This is a super mall that seems to be all over the city.  So far I've counted three on the bus ride to school, and our bus ride is only 15 minutes.  The Cortes has literally everything you could possibly need, including food and has been my roommate and I's favorite shop.  I went there the first day to buy a soft new towel to replace the carpet towel I had been given and ever since then have visited almost every day.  It is directly across the street from school and has all the snacks, appliances and necessities of life, making it numero UNO on my list.  My madre doesn't approve of the Cortes because she's old school and likes the tiny super markets instead but that's what makes me American.  It also helps that there is less grampa-ing to get there.

The Corte Inglés

Between the Cortes and Las Ramblas any and all hunger pains in my stomach are filled.  I feel so spoiled to have such a variety of food to choose from and have it be so close that I can go in between classes.  This luxury has become such a casual thing to me.

I've managed to find amazing bocadillo shops (sandwiches) and even greek restaurants with falafels to die for.  It's only a bonus that I can enjoy it all on the beautiful street of Las Ramblas. With it only being a week into my trip, I can't imagine how much better the food gets further down the strip.  It wont be long now before I'm a fat grampa.

Bienvenidos a Barcelona

 After breaking my ankle (in two places), surgery, and a postponement of my flight, the time has finally come.  Barcelona is here!

It was a long day on the 9th, leaving for the airport at 430 in the morning and being in between countries for 21 hours, but I made it.  My journey started in Seattle with a 4 hour trip to Chicago.  I had to get off the plane, be wheeled to my next gate and was sent on my way to Dulles in D.C.  After arriving there, I once again was wheeled out of my gate, had to collect my luggage and then check in to Air France.  The stewardists on both my flights became my bestfriends to say the least.  Shout out to Beverly, Gigi, and Joanne!  There was plenty room for conversation as I needed countless things with a broken leg.  It's interesting to see the different people you meet.

When I was dropped off in Paris, I was wheeled around to several different check points before making it to my gate, and was surrounded by people who only spoke French.  I had to trust that they knew where I was supposed to go. They did a fine job though as I was plopped in my gate next to a cute pair of australian ladies who had taken 2 months off to travel the world.  They had just come from Malaysia, and were leaving Paris to visit Barcelona next.  It was interesting to hear their stories, and actually be able to talk to someone in my own language again.  We chatted for an hour before take off and then it was Barcelona time!

It was a huge relief to finally arrive Barcelona.  I hadn't slept a wink my whole trip and the day had started to drag on to feeling like a year, so you can imagine how relieved I was when I was propped into a taxi on the way to my house.  I had no idea what to expect about where I lived and when I did finally arrive I was a little taken back by the exterior. Once inside though, my first impression cooled off.  The apartment here is small and quaint, very homey feeling.  The bedroom size took a day to adjust to, sharing it with a roommate and it being it smaller than my own bedroom at home, but we seem to have made it work.  The only thing I'm not a fan of: the shower.  The water pressure is as strong as a dripping faucet and in order for the hot water to work you have to run it in the sink first, and even then it doesn't stay hot!

my apartment (the black doors)

My Apartment

My Bedroom

School Neighborhood

Bus Stop to School

I unpacked, moved into my space and then literally passed out for 4 hours.  Jet lag kicked my butt.  I work up that night at 10pm, 7 hours after arrival, just in time for dinner.  My host mom (we call her madre) made bomb turkey burgers and salad, a super healthy meal that was surprisingly not spanish at all.  My madre is super nice, talks only in Spanish and speaks super fast so it's been entertaining trying to keep up with her sometimes. Unfortunately Spanglish doesn't work here so I'll have to buff out my spanish a bit.

The next day was school.  My roommate and I took the bus with our madre and I met with all the people in charge about arrangements for my leg and classes.  It looks like everything will go smoothly so far.  I had my first spanish class and met a lot of different people from all over the U.S.  Everyone had just gone out to a club the night before and it wasn't hard to see the majority of the class was a bit hungover.  We learned useful phrases to use in the city and practiced using them.  It was a pretty laid back first day of class.

Later that day we met up with our RA, Flor, and a bunch of girls that live near us and went out for dinner at this local pizzeria.  The pizza was to die for as I ate the whole thing ( I had also been starving from crutching around all day) and the shop was cute.  The kitchen was downstairs and the restaurant up, which was unfortunate for me in my position, but I managed to get up and down without falling.

The girls at dinner all talked about their trip so far and about the planned trip to Tarragona for the program.  It was a two day trip to different cities near Barcelona and unfortunately I couldn't go because of my leg. I instead decided to spend the weekend crutching around Las Ramblas.

Workin the Crutches

Along Las Ramblas

First Bar Stop (Las Ramblas)

 Las Ramblas was packed with people when I went on Saturday, and full of life.  There were several newspaper stands selling countless trinkets and souvenirs and everything was decked out in FC Barcelona wear. If any of my yellow jacket homies are reading this, you can bet I'll have some cool stuff for you guys when I get back.

After a half hour of looking around I decided to stop at a local bar and order my first drink, a mojito! It was in this cute little side bar near an alley off of Las Ramblas and gave me the liquid courage I needed to take on the rest of Las Ramblas.

One of the many alley ways

First Drink: Mojito!

There were many alleys with shops, bars and restaurants, and people selling everything from food to pets on the street.  I decided to take a stop and visit the local wax museum.  It was filled with different figures prominent  to the Spanish culture along with some movie characters I recognized.  Unfortunately for me, there were more stairs than wax figures so it ended up being more of a work out than a tour.

Visiting the Wax Museum

La Bouqueria

Baby Bunnies 4 Sale On Las Ramblas

Spanish Pinocchio

Wax Alice in Wonderland

I took a nice long rest along the street before continuing on and by the time I got to the Port at the end of Las Ramblas I was wiped out. I sat along the water for a while to catch my breath and let everything sink in, and it finally hit me.  I live in this city.  I'm going to see these people everyday, selling trinkets and bunnies, offering food and tourist services, performing on the streets, and I love that.  This city is such a wild place, so alive and full of life and I'm lucky enough to live here. It started to feel a little more like home.

As I got up to head back home, I was hit with another realization, my arms and left leg were dead.  There was no way I was going to be able to crutch all the way back down Las Ramblas to the bus stop.  I tried but didn't get more than 50 feet before calling a cab.  I came home that day and passed out for several hours.

Best Bakery in Barcelona (so far)

Port de Barcelona

Colon de Barcelona

Sunday was a little less eventful.  I tried to make my way back to Las Ramblas to visit the alleys with all the shops and restaurants, but everything was closed.  What's more was that my arms were killing me from the day before and my energy level was cut in half.  Most of you know how slow of a walker I am, so imagine my normal pace and cut it in half, and then cut it in half again and you've got my travel speed.  A cat with two legs could have walked faster than me.  Even the grandmas and grandpa's with their canes were passing me!  

It started to rain and I decided to call it quits.  One, because I didn't have a rain jacket,  and two, because I knew if I tried to go any farther I would get stuck and I preferred not to be immobile the next day.  It's been a challenge to say the least.  Being on crutches has definitely affected my ability to go around and explore and has cut my energy level in half.  I feel more like my arms and left foot are broken rather than my ankle, but only two more weeks to go.  My roommate and I are already planning a bunch of activities for when I get my boot off so I have some motivation to power through until then.  

It's only been three days in the city and I already feel like I've been here a lifetime.  With classes starting today I'll only have more to add to my lifestyle.  So much has happened already and yet the adventures have only just begun.