Saturday, August 4, 2007



Today I was in a little bit of a sour mood – I felt tired and angry at the cigarette smoke making my throat even worse. I sound like Barry White…which I guess could be a good thing. I decided this morning that maybe I’m not “feeling” Barcelona, so I should move on – although I did enjoy seeing the night life very much. The streets are very difficult to navigate, and I am very disoriented in this city. I found the train station and booked a train to another Spanish town: Valencia, which I know nothing about – but another girl traveling by herself told me that it was beautiful there. I can only go by my intuition and what feels right.

A Spanish Siesta (from 2:00pm-4:00pm) is actually incredibly therapeutic. I slept like the dead and woke up ready to go out and prance around the city. I took myself and my little walking shoes and decided to get lost for a while. I found a lovely part of town with narrow, mysterious streets that are constantly sparking and rewarding your curiosity. Spain is a donut culture – a typical Spanish breakfast is something sweet like a pastry with a cup of coffee or tea…maybe some yogurt. I have found a treasure trove of small, delicate pastry shops that sell gorgous and rustic looking breakfast pastries. There are a lot of almonds and cinnamon here. The streets are catacomb like and are made up of tall residential flats. There is laundry hanging from the balconies and cracking stucco lining the building bases. There are many directions to go, and it was fun to go where my senses told me to go always rewarded by a beautiful shop, or musician. There is incredible music talent here. A man was playing the Spanish guitar with a mask and singing, while in another quiet area, a man had sat down with a hollow metal drum instrument that he was delicately tapping with his fingers – he made music that sounded…spiritual. There are Goudi buildings everywhere (the architect) and Barcelona is peppered with quirky architectural and sculptural adornments.

Most people I speak with know basically zero English. I find myself having to draw the things I’m looking for and point on maps instead of asking…much quicker. After getting a little bit lost and a little scared at dusk, I found my way back to the hostel which feels like a safe haven, especially when you know a few of the people inside. I’m amazed at when i feel I have no one - a familiar face, can feel like the closest friend.

1 comment:

karen "rozenberg" said...

jessica, i swear that we saw that guy in barcelona and he is israeli. he makes these things. he learned to do it in sweden, finland, or norway, can't remember which one. we talked to him for like an hour. very nice and he was very israeli. did you see the woman who sings, not far away from him, like an angel.