I Simply Can't Breathe.

City Journal Epilogue. Barcelona Past and Present - Spring 2010.

On January 13th I had my bags packed, my ticket ready, and was saying goodbye to my dad at the airport. As I was sitting waiting for my plane I had a million thoughts going through my head. Was I doing the right thing? What would it be like? Was I really ready for this? I couldn’t breathe for all the nerves I felt.

Barcelona felt something like an extended vacation for me at first. I saw all the amazing sights. I enjoyed a new variety of foods. I met new people. I tried out the language. I stayed up all night. I didn’t feel homesick once. I was in an amazing place, what reason was there to feel homesick? My nerves quickly disappeared and Barcelona became my life, and then, it became my love. One day along the way, my vacation ended. I couldn’t pin point when. Somewhere past the crazy nights out, the futbol games, the parks, the classes and the people. At some point Barcelona began to feel like home.

The sights had become part of my every day. Simply walking to class I couldn’t help but smile at all my beautiful surroundings - at my life. Routine kicked in. Mondays were Loco Lunes at Otto Zutz, Thursdays meant candy at the corner store, and Fridays meant being woken up early by the maids. I found myself frequenting certain places, finding favourites. I became a frequent visitor of Bo de B, and I fell in love with the quiet upstairs scene of El Born. I knew my way around and I knew where to go. But at the same time, the city kept surprising me with further secrets; there were still so many things I hadn’t discovered yet. I had become comfortable, but the city hadn’t become too common or too boring. I was addicted.

Today it is April 27th. My time in Barcelona is coming to an end. With two days of classes left and only 6 days remaining in this fabulous city I have begun to reflect. Barcelona is my city, and Onix is my home. I have created a family and a life here, and I have created memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world. I have opened my eyes to new customs and a new way of life. I have learned more than I could have ever imagined. My experience in Barcelona surpasses the sights and the language and the classes. My experience consists of life-changing friends from across the world, nights that ended with sunrises, days wasted laying in the ciutadella park, and journeys to new and amazing places. I have learned that things do not always go the way you want or the way you expect, but you must make the most of them. I have learned that every minute matters, and that nothing should be taken for granted. Barcelona has taught me many, many lessons.

As I begin to pack up my belongings and say my goodbyes I am reminded of that same feeling I felt on January 13th. I don’t know where life is going to take me yet. I don’t know if I am ready for another transition. I don’t know if I will ever feel this way about another city in my life. When I think about having to leave Barcelona, I simply can’t breathe.

i want to stop time, i want to freeze in my tracks...
there's something about this feeling that i just can't give back.

Libros y Rosas

Dia de Sant Jordi, a.k.a. St. George's Day, is an experience not to be missed in Barcelona. Sant Jordi is Catalonia's Patron Saint, but the day is more of a Spanish Valentine's day. Men receive books, and women receive roses. La Rambla and Plaza Catalunya are packed with festivities. Camera crews, live recordings of t.v. and radio shows, and stalls and stalls of books and roses. Beautiful roses, in every imaginable colour, tied with ribbon in the pattern of the Catalonian flag. It brings the streets to life, packed with people.


I love being able to walk down the streets here and find a parade or a carnaval, or even a protest. Just everyone coming together, celebrating, showing they care. It creates such a undescribable feeling. How i am going to miss Spanish celebrations...

Many Thanks to Iceland.

I had been wondering how everything had been going so perfectly for me. Ofcourse, there have been a few ups and downs, a few nights i'd rather not repeat, and a few mishaps - but for the most part, life has been extraordinarily good to me lately. I was rather excited to spend a weekend in Amsterdam and Brussels with some of my favourite people, we had lists of activities planned, and, well, I really wanted bagels. But all of a sudden, the Volcano had to go and shut down the airports. It would be this weekend, wouldn't it? It couldn't have chosen a time when I was happily wandering around Barcelona? No, it had to be this weekend.

To make the most of our cancelled flights, we re-routed our get away to Palma de Mallorca. Mallorca is a Balearic Island, and happens to be where I spent my first birthday. It was no-where i'd planned to visit on my trip, and no-where I was too excited to go. But, when you're making the most of things, you take what you can get. We arrived to sunshine, and headed straight to the beach. It was picture-perfect. The kind you find in a magazine, and don't believe actually exists. We fell asleep to the sound of the waves, and awoke to meet some fun-loving local boys. Our weekend was paradise. Danielle, Annie, Kaitlin & I wandered the town, climbed along the rocks, and explored the nightlife. Mallorca was so much more than i'd expected.

As our weekend came to a close, we headed to the airport. It is quite a funny feeling to look up, expecting to find your gate number, and instead to see every.single.flight CANCELLED. The ash had moved over, and BCN and Palma airports were shut down. Finding another option, we headed down to the port to see if we could book a ferry. But, so did the other 200 people trying to get off the island. After standing in line for an hour and a half, and getting pretty much no-where, we lost hope of getting home any time soon. Finally, a silver lining to our dismal day... the airport had reopened. Thinking we would probably get a flight for tuesday morning, we headed over to see what we could sort out. We got the last four seats on the one flight flying to BCN in 20 minutes. We ran through that airport like we were being chased.

Being in the airport made me think of the way the world will end,
everyone sitting, trying to think of a way out, a way home,
but in reality, knowing there is nothing they can do.

Inspiration.

We took a day trip last saturday, to Figueres and Girona.
Figueres is home to Dali, and holds his most famous museum.
Everything in it was mindblowing. I love finding art i love.
Modern art, art that makes you wonder, art that is different.
Girona was unimportant, but it doesn't matter where you are
when you are wandering with life-changing friends.

I heart Lisboa

I'm running out of time.


Lisbon was the last stop of my Spring Break, which is rapidly becoming a part of my past.
I have to live in the now, however many wonderful memories I have in my past.

In two days it became one of my favourite cities in the world.

First impressions are important, and Lisbon gave us a bad one. You'll get that when you wander through the wrong part of town, thinking your hostel is on a sketchy back-street where you feel completely uncomfortable walking. In reality, our hostel was across town, and so nice we were sad to leave.

We got up early and hopped on a touristic bus. I've always wanted to sit up top and look down at everyone passing by. We saw all the sights the city had to offer, and hopped off in Belem. We saw the Torre de Belem, the Monastery, and the Huge statue i forget the name of.  We lined up for Pasteis de Belem with everyone else in town. Sitting in the grass looking at our tarts, we took a bite. Disgusting. I wonder how such a thing is so famous.

That night we ventured to Bairro Alto. The nightlife center of Lisbon. The streets are packed with people, from 18 to 80. The mojitos were the size of my head and cheap. Finally, somewhere cheap! I have never seen anything like it. Bairro Alto is like a festival, every day of the week.

The next day we saw a church, and a castle. Sightseeing is getting repetitive. The most delicious frango-filled crepe. Chocolate covered fruit. A park with an amazing view. Relocation. Further exploration. Exhaustion.

We left happy with our trip.

Lisboa feels cultural, it feels inviting, it feels different.

Some places are just Untouchable.

How in this westernized world do some small wonders still exist?

A long journey along tight and winding roads through the countryside of Portugal brings one to Sintra. On first glance, it is normal. A small town in the hills of the country with some breathtaking views. But Sintra is anything but normal. This gem is more clasically fairytale than anywhere I could imagine. Palaces and Castles are dotted throughout a vibrant-green, waterfall-filled scenery, and Quejidas, a delicious pastry treat, are sold everywhere. Disneyland wishes it had this much magic..

The buildings of the town are older, keeping to the classic terracotta colours of other Portuguese cities. They are roofed with turrets and spirals. Around every corner is another beautiful palace, or a yellow fort-like castle. Venturing further into the greenery brought us to Pena Palace and the Morous Castle. Both historic tourist attractions but with a magic atmosphere to them. The gardens themselves were breathtaking, the palace most fairytale of all, and the hundreds of stones steps of the castle offering a view scattered with more and more and more.

Sintra feels like stepping out of time and reality,
It feels like disappearing into a world of make-believe.

It feels untouchable.

Off Season Beach Town.

Cascais, Portugal

We went to Cascais not knowing what to expect except a beach.
The town itself is tiny. There are a handfull of shops, a supermarket, a shopping centre, and a street of touristic restaurants. It was fine, we had come here to relax after all. It was a great place for wandering, and this is exactly what we did on our first evening before dinner.

Chicken Piri Piri was advertised everywhere. We weren't sure what to expect from Portuguese food, or Portugal itself come to that. So, I tried it. On my plate was half a roasted chicken and fries. Tasty, but overwhelmingly large.

Relaxation is vital. Without it, stress takes over and we are left without enjoyment.

With colder weather than we had been expecting we were cautious of going to the beach. Yet when we did, the sun emerged to warm our skin. I love the feeling of laying on the sand, eyes shut, with the noise of the sea. It is unlike any other feeling. You become one with the world and are lost into an abyss of peace.

Our second day we ventured. Down the beach, as far as we could walk. Past estoril, into tamariz. Beach by beach. Along cliffs, steps carved into the side of the rock, along boardwalks packed with people. We enjoyed life, care-free with no-where specific to be. It's a wonderful feeling.

Cascais is what you make it. The town itself isn't spectacular, and during early april it was almost empty. But the feeling you get from sitting in the sun looking out into paradise is unreal.

The Venezian Islands.

The second day spent in Venice we decided to venture out. We hopped on a Vaporetto and started riding down the Grand Canal. First destination: Murano. Murano is famous for glass blowing; practically every store and stall was filled with hand made glass and glass-art. There were larger glass works statued throughout the town. We watched a demonstration. The furnace room reminded me of something from the past. Glass blowing is apparently a very hard profession. The man was younger than i expected, and he made a vase and a glass horse almost perfectly in about 5 minutes. The town is much like venice with its canals and bridges but much quainter and even quieter. The day itself was beautiful.

After another fresh Italian pizza covered in Gorgonzola cheese, we moved onto Burano. Burano is famous for Lace, but we went for another reason. Every house is painted in a bright colour. Red, Yellow, Pink, Orange, Blue, Green.. Each wife used to paint her house the colour of her husband's fishing boat, and the tradition has continued leaving the town a canvas of bright box houses. I would love to live in such a colourful place, it simply brings a smile to your face.

It's so funny that each place in the world, even each island just a short distance across the water, ends up so unique. Everything is it's own. I love that about this world. I love things that are their own, not cookie-cutter like the world i'm used to.

VENEZIA.

We landed in Treviso, and took a long bus ride through the Italian country side into Venice. First getting off the bus we are lost, and maps are hard to find, but we managed to fight our way through dark and winding streets to our hostel: L'Imbarcadero.

We woke the next morning to a city filled with fog. Venice is characteristically foggy. It adds to the air of the city. A feeling of mystery, it makes you want to explore. The tight passageways, the winding canals, the smells, and the fog. These things make Venice Venice.

The obvious tourist attractions: The Rialto Bridge, St Marks Square, The Basilica, The Bridge of Sighs, and the Palace. This was our day one in Venice, i'm sure much like anyone else's. The Rialto is lined with stores selling classic Venetian masks, it is crowded and has classic views of the Grand Canal. This is our access point to tourist central as we are staying a little out of the way of St Marks. The Square itself is much more impressive in sunlight. The fog suits the alleys and canals much better. The buildings are beautiful, detailed, classic. We entered the Basilica, sneaking photos of its golden mosaiced ceiling. It glistens brightly leaving you in a dome of golden light. The museum above gives access to the roof, form here you can look down into the square, it is a great spot for people watching.

My favourite memory of Venice has always been the Bridge of Sighs. My dad would always tell me the story of the prisoners crossing the bridge, sighing as they got their last view of daylight, and their last glimpse of beautiful venice. This time, I came across the bridge by accident. It is boarded up in bright blue pictures of sky, in advertising. It is under restoration. Disappointment. Thankfully, while wandering through the Palace we found our way to the prisons. This led us across the bridge from the inside. Childhood Memory Restored.

Our host, Alex, was friendly. Over friendly perhaps, but made us feel at home. We cooked dinner, chicken stir fry, ravioli, and salad. It was delicious. We ventured into the streets of venice that night. They were filled with mist. You could barely see two inches in front of your face. It was dark, quiet, and peaceful.

We spent the next day exploring the islands. The sunset over the waters of venice was indescribable. Our next night in venice we ate in style. Spaghetti across the Rialto Bridge. Wine. Gelato. We went to St Marks Square to see the flooding. We splashed through the water filled square. Exuberating. We got lost in the dark city streets, exploring. It was late by the time we found our way home. And our flight out was early. We awoke to a bright sunny day and said goodbye to the sights sounds and smells of Venice.

The city feels like it is filled with a million secrets just waiting to be uncovered.