MM Part Two: Ireland

The third weekend in March the madness continued with a trip to Ireland over St. Patty's day weekend.  I went with my roommate Kim, and we ended up having the time of our lives.  We got into Dublin late Friday night, and after getting lost in the maze that was our hostel we prepared ourselves for the weekend.  People at the hostel were very friendly and also very drunk.  We had a few highly entertaining conversations with the people staying at the hostel before we retired for the night and checked out the next morning to head to Galway.

Before leaving on our bus for Galway, we walked around Dublin for a few hours to see the city.  I loved the old small town city feeling that Dublin gave off and people were also very friendly.  Everyone was walking in the streets in green hats or dressed as leprechauns and the town was decorated in shamrocks.  There was a very happy feeling in the air and also a lot of history around.  

We walked down Grafton Street and saw all the street performers out and visited a museum with a lot of cool exhibits on Ireland way back in the day.  We spent a good majority of our day walking around so when time came around to board the bus we were more than happy to have a seat.

 

Dublin

The drive through Ireland to Galway was gorgeous and as we drove through the green hills of the country during sunset I sat eagerly awaiting what was to come.  We met up with Kim's friend at the bus station and stayed at her apartment for the weekend.  After getting food and determining sleeping arrangements (we got a mattress out and pushed two couches together) we prepared for the evening.

That night we went out to the pubs and ended up meeting a couple of Irish guys who had come from northern Ireland to celebrate.  I met a guy named Hugh and we spent the night dancing and singing to music in the pub.  Later when the pub closed we all gathered around outside on the cobblestone streets and danced to a guitarist while the boys sang their Irish jangles.  Everyone was all in such a good mood and so happy to be where they were that I couldn't help but feel like I was in a fairytale.

It was a night that carried over into the wee hours of the next morning and we woke up three hours later to catch a bus to the Cliffs of Moher.  Though we were tired and my roommate a bit cranky, the trip proved to be more than worth it.  We made several stops along the way through hills greener than I had ever seen and past bodies of water shades of blue that looked like they had been painted in place.  The air was cold but the weather perfect and standing outside we couldn't have felt more alive.  Being submerged in such a storybook nature setting took our breath away.  

On the Cliffs of Moher

Stop along the way

Cliffs of Moher

Dunguaire Castle

Hills of Ireland

We saw castles, waterfronts, and rock canyons that all felt surreal but nothing compared to the breathtaking scene at the cliffs of more.  Being up so high on the grass cliffs, the Atlantic Ocean looked like it spread on forever.  The air smelt the freshest I had ever experienced and being surround by all the colorful nature made life seem unreal.  We left the Cliffs of Moher content, and convinced that nothing could beat that moment in our lives.

View over the Atlantic

Cliffs from the Castle

St. Patty's day ended with an attempt to master the pubs as we had the night before, but this time the pubs were packed with ten times the amount of people.  Trying to get a drink was impossible.  The sea of people dressed in green between us and the bar tender made it a challenge and trying to find somewhere to stand consisted of humping random strangers as the crowd pushed and squeezed us in directions we didn't want to go.  We ended up ditching the pub scene and landing in a burrito joint for a late night snack which proved to be just as fun.

A huge crowd of drunk people came in and started singing and dancing as they ordered burritos.  Some even attempted handstands and cartwheels miserably and it suddenly felt as if the bar had found us.  Needless to say we more than enjoyed the night without a pub and as we headed home for the night we were more than pleased.

I left Ireland with a change of heart and have never felt more alive in my life.  Being around such great company and seeing nature as I had seen it made everything else in life seem so different, in a good way.  I loved it so much that I have booked one more trip back to Ireland before I head back to the states.  

St. Patty's day weekend proved to be a success, and maybe one of the best weekends of my life.  Cheers to March Madness.  It has only continued from there.

March Madness Part One: Sevilla & Granada

March turned out to be the craziest month of my life, and when I say crazy I mean it in the best way possible.  It kicked off with the loss of my crutches and the boot, which I had no regrets with shoving them in the back of my closet, and from there the fun began.  I managed to visit several different cities across Spain and a few in Ireland and came back to Barcelona with a life time of memories.

The madness began with my first trip the first week of March, three days after being released from my boot.  I took a ten hour train ride to Granada with a friend of mine from the program and we later took another over to Sevilla.  Granada proved to be a real test on my foot, as the city was all on a hill and we had to walk everywhere to get anywhere.  After struggling through a ten hour train ride (we had some wine to help us through it), walking proved to be much needed.

The city was quite old and small, with a very picturesque feeling to it.  I almost felt like I was in one of Monet's impressionist paintings, the way the shrubs and trees were decorated in the hills.  Everything was so green and the weather couldn't have been more perfect.  We dumped our things off in our hole-in-the-wall hostel and spent the day touring the city.  We ended up taking a visit to the Alhambra, which took one hell of a walk to get to, and had our breath taken away by the prestige of the palace and hillsides.  I couldn't stop taking pictures and by the end of the day the battery in my camera had died.

View over Granada

Streets in Granada

Alhambra

Later that night we went tappa hopping, which consisted of walking from
tapa bar to tapa bar to sample different tapas and ended our night in a hooka bar.  The tapas were all amazing and proved to be the perfect dish with beer.  After dinner, we treated our self to gelato, which is to die for in Spain, and then called it a night.

The next day we took off on a train to Sevilla which turned out to be my favorite city in Spain.  It had a very southern feeling to it and people were incredibly friendly.  We took time to visit Plaza España, the Plaza de Torros, the gardens and other parts of Sevilla.  The town wasn't too big so two days was plenty to tour the city.

Row Boating around Plaza España

Our first full day in Sevilla we enjoyed a nice row boat ride around Plaza España, that is until it started pouring down rain, and we had to frantically paddle back to the dock.  People huddled together underneath the Plaza to keep dry and cheered for us as we rowed back.  By the time we were out of the boat the rain had stopped and were left sopping wet.  It was a bit unfortunate, but I enjoyed the adventure nonetheless.

Flamenco Dancers

I had an incredible time our first night in Sevilla.  Marisa and joined our hostel in a trip to a Flamenco show at a private showing and watched a male and female dance flamenco.  Their passion and agility was amazing and we stayed after to get our picture taken with them.  Afterwards, we made our way to a bar along the river that had a live band and the whole bar was dancing flamenco.  Women and men stood together happily on the floor clapping their hearts out and I could feel the Andalusian culture in the air.  It was a night to remember.

Plaza de Torros

We ended our time in Sevilla the following night with a tapa tour through our hostel where our guide told us about the meaning behind tapas and how they are a part of the Spanish culture.  We were joined by two other couples from different hostels, one from Canada and the other from Germany and ended the night with a two hour conversation about each others hometowns.  It was interesting to hear about the way people live in different countries and I left Andalusia feeling very cultured.

My foot was sore and achy after I got back, but I regretted nothing.  I had some great adventures in the south of Spain and from there only more were to come.

Flamenco en Barcelona: Los Tarantos

Last night my roommate and I decided to checkout the Flamenco in Barcelona.  Barcelona is mostly a tourist city and probably has the least spanish culture out of all of Spain, but we figured since we're here, why not?

The place we ended up going to was a Flamenco bar in Plaza Reial, a plaza just off La Rambla, and only cost 10 euro to get in.  The other Flamenco places I had looked up going to cost a pretty penny to get in, so Los Tarantos ended up being our spot for the night.

Flamenco Stage

Los Tarantos

Walking down La Rambla on a Saturday was crazy.  There were vendors everywhere and people were all dressed up to go to the theater or restaurants along the road.  The street was lit up with bright lights and signs advertising the hottest spots to go out for the night, and the people were all awake and ready for the night to begin.

As we turned down our alley that lead us to Plaza Reial, we walked by several pubs and bars that bumping music from back home.  I find it amusing that American Pop is the highlight of all the clubs and bars in Spain.  The music followed us all the way to our bar, where we waited outside to purchase our tickets.  Plaza Reial is filled with restaurants and bars, and people were drinking wine outside the restaurants and hanging around the fountain in the middle.

Once we had our tickets we entered the bar and grabbed two seats in the second row in front of the stage.  We were some of the first people there, giving us the advantage of prime seating.  Each row had its own mini table for people to place their drinks on, and the chairs were small black folding chairs comfortable enough to host someone for a 30 minute show.

The Bar

Los Tarantos had a calm, relaxing vibe with low lighting and a dimming red hue that lingered over the room.  It set off the perfect feel of Flamenco with a red theme prominent through out the bar.  We put our stuff down and I went off to the bar to get us drinks before the show.  While at the bar, I ran into one of the performers who was hanging with his friends before the show.  He had been dancing behind me when the thud of his feet against the floor startled me.

Our Table

We got to talking in Spanish for a few minutes before he switched to english after recognizing my accent.  He introduced himself as Louis and bragged about how he loved to dance.  His vocal coach was sitting with him, Ferran, and they talked about how they worked together.  Louis was very animated during our conversation and had a lot of energy.  He would wrap his arm around his friend every time he'd talk about him and do a mini-flamenco every time he talked about performing.  It was a light-hearted pre-performance conversation to say the least.

Flamenco Dancers

 I left after I got our drinks and sat back down to watch the show.  The performers: two guitarists, a drummer, two female flamenco dances, and the singer (Louis) all came on stage and took their position.  Louis started off the set with his deep voice that echoed throughout the bar.  His singing style was similar to that of the Arabic music, only a little raspier with Spanish flare.  The flamenco dancers came on to the stage and started tapping their heels at a pace I had never seen before.  Their faces were hard as they concentrated on the music they made with their feet.

The set was incredible and I caught myself saying "Oh my god," a few times.  The singing added a dramatic flare to it and I instantly fell in love with the performance.  With each dance the dancers moved their feet faster than the last, which I didn't think was possible, and they moved with such grace it was incredible.  They wore long red and black dresses with their hair pulled back tightly into buns, and they knotted up the hem of their dress in their fists as they did the Flamenco.

It was a short performance and I could tell it wasn't as renowned as the original Flamenco in Seville, but it was definitely entertaining.  It was a great kick off to the Flamenco I'll see this coming weekend when I travel to Seville, home of the Flamenco.

London Town

Last weekend I had the good fortune of taking a trip to London.  With all the misfortunes I had had up until that point, my ankle still broken and getting sick, a little vacation was in order.  My roommate, one of our classmates, and I all got up in the wee hours of the morning (3 a.m) and embarked on a journey that would soon turn out to be one of the best weekends we've had in a long time.  Though we were tired, and my roommate was a bit grumpy (she's not a morning person) the second we landed in Stanstend airport our moods instantly flip-flopped.

First thing we noticed upon landing in England, everything was English again and we could actually navigate where we were supposed to go.  Signs were in English and people talked to us English, in british accents which I absolutely adore, and we could have in depth conversations with out getting confused.  Though it did take us a day to adjust to the language change, saying "gracias" instead of "thank you" and "perdon" instead of "excuse me," the culture change was a delight.

Once we navigated through customs where the line was long as hell, and made it to our bus which we had to split up to catch it before it left, we were on our way to London.  The bus was packed to its limit with people and everyone looked tired.  I sat next to a lady who had come from Navarra with a bunch of her friends and we had a nice conversation in Spanish.  She was spending three days in London as well for the first time, leaving Monday like us.  We talked about our plans and what we planned on doing in London.  I was impressed with myself for being able to hold a sophisticated conversation with someone in Spanish.  Spain was definitely rubbing off on me.

The second we got out into the city I whipped out my camera.  The city of London looked so quaint through the glass window of the airport bus.  Everything was different, the architecture, the busses, cars, streets, lampposts, and even the people walking on the sidewalks.  I felt like I was in a storybook, lost in an English neighborhood like in Oliver Twist or as if I had jumped into the movie Love Actually and was walking door-to-door with Hugh Grant trying to find Natalie's house to tell her he loved her.  I couldn't stop taking pictures and my roommate had to tap me on the shoulder and remind me to save space for when we get off the bus and actually experience the rest of London.

Out the Window

Houses Out the Window

 

  I shut off my camera but continued to take everything in.  Everything was square, or a rounded square, the buildings and cars, and the houses were practically holding hands.  I loved everything about it and couldn't wait to start exploring.

Pounds!

  When we got off the bus we took bathroom breaks, and prepared ourselves for the trek ahead.  We took out cash from the ATM which was exciting.  The exchange rate though, not so much.  One pound is close to 1.5 dollars so 80 pounds cost $140, but I tried not to think about that too much.

It was close to 11 once we were all settled and we had 5 hours until we were allowed to check into our hostel, so we decided to check out London in the mean time.

Our first order of business was finding food.  We stopped for lunch at a cute sandwich shop one road off Victoria station.  I ordered a chicken sandwich and regretted nothing.  The waiters were cute, all had lovely accents, and were more than cheery.  That was the one thing I loved most about London.  Everyone always seemed to be in a great mood and had the best manners.  It made it incredibly easy to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

London Lunch

The Crew

Marissa, Kim, and I ate our food and discussed what our plan was for the day.  We decided to check out Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and downtown before checking into our hostel. After several Harry Potter references and forged british accents, we started on our way through London town.

Road to Buckingham

Square Center

We walked along the cobblestoned streets through the villages, past several more pubs before finally making it to Buckingham Palace.  When we got there it was packed with tourists, taking pictures next to the gate, and by the statue in the center.  The whole place was buzzing with energy and we had to squeeze our way through tour groups to get a closer look through the gated fence at the guards.  They stood outside the palace marching back and forth, with their furry hats and old school guns in the most honorable manner.  I watched perplexed at their routine.  The whole palace was a lot to take in and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream.  My phrase for the entire weekend was, "I'm in London."  No matter how many times I said it out loud, it never seemed real.

Gates of Buckingham

Buckingham Palace

Road to Big Ben

The weather was warm and the sun was partly out, providing the perfect lighting for the day.  It couldn't have been more perfect.  We walked through St. James Park to get to Big Ben and passed many Londoners on their daily runs and walks for the day.  The swans were even out and it couldn't have felt more like a painting of your classic park.

Moon Walkers

St. James Park

 On our way through the park we came across a plaza with a clear view of the London Eye off in the distance.  The buildings were royally designed and people were out and about.  We took a break from walking to soak in the city a bit more.

Resting

Big Ben in the distance

Plaza

One of the things I noticed during our walk was that there were a lot of memorials, monuments, and statues throughout the city of people who had died for noble causes, or of people who had left their mark upon London and they were quite interesting to read about.

Checking out the Phone Booths

We passed the classic red telephone booths and hidden alleys before making it to Big Ben where once again, there were several people.  It was just as pretty as I had imagined, if not prettier and we spent a good amount of time there before leaving.

Big Ben

We found a local shop with Wifi to figure out how to navigate to our hostel and ended up buying Oyster passes for the busses and trains.  It turned out to be a smart idea because we ended up taking the tube and the double decker street busses a lot that weekend.

Once we had our passes, we got on the bus to our Hostel that dropped us off conveniently in front of the front gates.  Now, from the outside, the hostel looked like your classic dormitory, but the inside was anything but.  There was a lounge with a dining counter for food in the front lobby and a front desk to check in and out of.  The lady gave us our room key and pointed us in the right direction.

As we walked through the halls of the hostel, I the atmosphere felt a little eerie.  The whitewashed walls and barred windows didn't exactly scream homey and Kim made a remark about the horror movie, Hostel, which didn't add to anybody's comfort level.

The vibe in our room wasn't much different from the outside vibe, as it was a 20 person dormitory and all the bottom bunks were filled.  The walls were green and the people in it were high.  We didn't hesitate to go downstairs and ask for a different room, my broken ankle proved as the perfect excuse and were quickly accommodated with a nicer 18-bedroom room by the lounge.  It wasn't heaven, but it did the trick.

I took a quick nap before dinner and then we headed out.  We took a bus to Covent Garden, and made our way to an Indian Restaurant we had looked up called, The Masala Zone.  The city at night was even more alive than during the day and I could feel the magic.  The lampposts, the red brick buildings, the white street signs plastered on the walls, and the people's voices echoing through the town all brought something surreal to that moment.  We all fell in love with London right there and in an instant it was apparent that we had picked the perfect place to travel.

Masala Zone

Tiki Masala

Masala Zone was packed with people, and the line went out the door (Indian food is extremely popular in London), but we waited patiently as one of the locals told us the food was worth the wait.

After a delicious but spicy Tiki Masala, chicken in Indian curry sauce, we took the tube to Picadilly to meet up with one of Marissa's friends who was studying abroad in London.  Picadilly is like the Times Square of New York.  It had a huge reader border, street performers and numerous clubs all lined along the streets.  There were countless stores and restaurants along the way and the streets were all lit up with neon signs.

We watched a  Rastafarian-like street performer do the limbo under a stick placed on two 2 liter coke bottles and were amazed at his flexibility.  It was definitely clear that he was going to have knee problems when he was older though.

Emil met up with us after the limbo show and we made our way to a local pub that was packed with people.  We all order a pint of beer and Emil told us about what life was like living in England.  Compared to Barcelona, it was so different there.  People go out to the clubs and bars at normal times like 7 or 8 while in Barcelona clubs and bars don't start until midnight.  I was fascinated by some of the things he was saying.

Roomies 

We took the bus home after the pub closed at 11 and made our way back to the hostel by bus.  We woke up the next morning, had breakfast at the diner in our hostel and planned our last day in London. We decided to see the changing of the guards at Buckingham palace, visit King Cross to see Platform 9 & 3/4, walk through Camden Market, and end our day with Trafalgar Square where the National Gallery is.

When we got to Buckingham Palace, once again it was packed.  Only this time with three times the amount of people, which didn't seem possible.  It was almost as if we were at a concert.  One could have easily road the crowd from one side to the other if they mosh-pitted.

Crowd Control

Tourists

Police were everywhere, with their batons, and on their horses trying to keep the crowd steading.  As we stood waiting, we held our cameras above the crowd to get a better lens at what was going on.  The guards decked in their suits and tall fluffy black hats marched through the square and into the gates of Buckingham palace.  Drums and trombones were blaring in the crowd and there was defitinetly a festival like feel to crowd.

After the ceremony, we pushed our way through the thousands of tourists, not an exaggeration, and walked through Green Park to Green Park station.  There we took the Tube to King's Cross station.  If you've never seen the tube then I'll explain real quick.  They call it the tube because the station is litterally a tube.  The tunnels and subway are all tube-like and you feel like you're being sucked in and out of places to get anywhere.

Once at King's Cross station, we made our way to platform 9 & 3/4.  The station was huge, with a high ceiling in the shape of an arc and it had a very modern feeling to it.  The actual platform required a train ticket to get to, so the station had designed a fake 9 & 3/4 for tourists.  We were surprised to find that there was actually a line to have your picture taken in front of a trolley half protruding from the wall, but figured since we were already here, why not?
After having our pictures taken, we stopped off a the Platform 9 &  3/4 gift shop which had a bunch of Platform 9&3/4 t-shirts and harry potter stuff.  There wasn't anything too exciting there.

Off to Hogwarts

Outside Kings Cross

Our next stop was Camden Market, which was a short bus ride away from King's cross.  Camden Market, like everywhere else in London, was packed with people and had it's own set of street performers.  There were souvenir stands upon souvenir, and blocks of different shops it all seemed overwhelming.  The buildings held true to the classic English architecture and the people were just as friendly as anywhere else.  There wasn't much to see but trinkets and gadgets but it was definitely worth the visit.

Camden Square

Tired and a bit worn out, we made our way to our final stop, Trafalgar Square.  Trafalgar Square ended up being my favorite visit during our trip.  It was it the center of everything, and the National Gallery stood tall over the city, looming proudly over all the other buildings.  Their were several fountains and statues and traffic buzzed around it all.  I felt like a small fish in the ocean while I was there, everything was so big and important.  I was sad when it was finally time to leave.

Road to Trafalgar Square

National Gallery at Trafalgar Square

We ended our trip in London with dinner at a Dutch Pancake house and drinks at a local Pub.  The food was delicious and the beer wasn't so bad either.  While we were at the pub we ended up meeting a local, Ashely who was from Ohio.  She told us she had lived in London for 5 years and had come to study art here.  We talked about all the touristy things we had done and what her life was like in London.  She had come with some friends she'd made in London and talked with them briefly for a bit. The whole night was full of laughter, story telling, and good drinks which made for the perfect ending of the perfect trip.

I loved the time we spent in London, and everything we experienced.  There was so much that it is hard to condense it all into words.  The whole atmosphere is a thing in itself, and the city has left an impression on me.  It's going to hard to beat my trip to London.

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.