I wake up at 5am which isn’t ideal, but I’m feeling INFINITELY better so an early rise is a small price to pay. I just slept for the better part of 24 hours, so I should be okay. Maybe I just unintentionally beat the jet lag with all that sleeping?
I kill some time hanging out in my room before I go downstairs for breakfast. I haven’t eaten in 24 hours either, so I try to low key stuff my face with the free cereal, fruit, tea, and toast that is available. I ask to extend my stay one more night, but they’re fully booked.
This is a blessing in disguise, because it’s a little pricey at this hostel anyway. I found one a few subway stops from here, about 10€ cheaper, and booked myself in for tomorrow night when I was unsure of how I’d be feeling today. Guess I’ll have to go online and book another room for tonight then tote all my stuff over there. Now is as good a time as any I suppose.
I pack my things silently while the two boys who thought I was weird for always sleeping…slept. Who’s laughing now? It’s going to look even weirder when I’ve seemingly disappeared, but I don’t care. Byeeeee.
I try to act cool and like I know what I’m doing as I navigate the metro system. It’s super straight forward, and I’m only going two stops without having to transfer, so it’s easy to look confident; I am.
Finding my new hostel is a little challenging, only because it’s behind a big sketchy iron barred door that I have to buzz into. I walk by it 3 times. This was not advertised online. At least I know I’ll be safe as fuck?
As per the usual struggle, I had to check out at 11, but can’t check in until 2. So I leave my bag at the front desk and head out to explore the area.
Barcelona is beautiful. Every damn building has 100 small balconies, and old classic European architecture. Every so often there’s a cool modern building amidst the historic ones, which makes for a cool mix. I guess I’m in a pretty central area, because there are tourists EVERYWHERE. Like proper tourists. Big DSL cameras around their necks, maps out shamelessly, Bermuda shorts type tourists. I swear.
I’m a bit of a stereotypical tourist myself, and wander into a burger place for lunch. I don’t know how to explain how it happened. It looked cheap, it was organic, and it looked trendy and cool. I swear it wasn’t a McDonalds or anything! But also not tapas or something actually… Spanish. I shall try to justify it by saying I have tons of time to explore Spanish cuisine in my indefinite time here. It WAS a damn good burger. #NoRegrets
I still have some time to kill before check in, so I continue on an aimless stroll. Someone strikes up a conversation with me about the weather. Usually I’d ignore him or smile and run away (strangers on the street are weird), but I have no friends so whatever. Turns out he’s staying at my hostel and just arrived this morning. He’s been to Barcelona before though, and leads me on a walk through the city to one of the Gaudi buildings and to a chill park. It’s a beautiful day to be strolling around. 25 degrees and sunny. Who could complain? My company is kinda weird…but like I said…no friends.
I’m still not finished this TEFL course, and obviously as someone looking for employment, that is priority numero uno.
I insist on going back to the hostel so I can spend some time hammering through this online class. It turns out I have a stage 5 clinger on my hands. Not only does he try to make me stay out longer, he follows me back to my hostel, all the way through my checkout process, and to MY ROOM. I almost never book all female dorms, but it’s all they had available, and I have never been happier. Had I been stuck in a dorm with this dude I’d have died. He’s nice, but he’s a lot. Never speak to strangers on the street. Why haven’t I learned? New goal is to never run into him again.
Once in the safety of my dorm, I open up my laptop and get to work on my course. Almost every other woman in here is on their laptops too. No one speaks. I’m kinda disappointed that this isn’t a social hostel, but at the same time, I need a space like this where I can focus.
The interior of the hostel doesn’t look half as bad as the exterior, but it’s definitely a significant down grade from my last accom. Cheaper though, and therefore worth it.
A couple hours go by and I meet up with a friend from my last hostel. We go out to an Irish Pub (these are literally found in every city in the entire world, I swear), and then to a club. Clubs in Europe are not like clubs back home. I look at clubs and Toronto and would rather die than enter 99% of them. It draws a certain kind of crowd, and it’s rarely the cool kind. In Europe however, clubbing is standard and everyone goes. Here, bars close around 2/2:30, but clubs are open until the sun rises. We walk absolutely everywhere to get around, who can afford a cab? Certainly not me. So I’m getting to know the city a little better, which is nice. I kinda know where I am now. Sometimes.