¡Mi nuevo amor es Barcelona!

After the expensive lesson I learned about booking tickets early, I stopped at a train station near our AirBnB the day after our arrival in Paris and purchased tickets to Barcelona (that's when we saw the guy with the minute kilt). This time, the booking agent was super helpful, explaining that France was having train strikes and helping me find a train for the day I needed that would get me to Barcelona while it was still daylight. 

With all my focus on just getting the reservation done, I completely forgot to ask for first class tickets (we pre-purchased Eurail passes before we left the US which come with first class). We went to Gare de Lyon extra early to allow for Zoey to acclimate and for me to try to upgrade the tickets. I got the upgrades done and we got to ride on the upper deck. Unlike Virgin Rail, the Eurostar (London to Paris) and SCFN (Paris to Barcelona) offer no free food for first - our any - class. But the view was quite lovely, from rolling hills, to the Balreatic Sea. 



But my favorite was the sight of the Pyrenees!


Yes! Those snow-capped mountains in the horizon are the Pyrenees mountain range!

Oh! Here's an interestingly odd thing that happened left me too surprised to even snap a picture. The train made several stops during the journey. About halfway through the trip, a guy comes onboard with a dog (very common over here), a beer (also common), a straw hat (not common here) and cane pole (not common anywhere) with a paper cup dangling from the "fishing line" asking for money. Well, he struck up a conversation with the group of very chatty lovely grandmas sitting in front of us. One of the sassy ladies told him she suspected the money would go to more beer, to which the train hobo cheekily replied "oh, there's no suspecting! It definitely will!" 😂

The train hobo and his hobo pup exited at the next station and my opportunity for a memorable picture went with them.

We got to Barcelona a little after 8pm. The train station was as confusing as any other station but I had the advantage of knowing the language! Or so I thought.

Turns out the predominant language of Barcelona is not Spanish but Catalonian, which I can best describe as a cross between Spanish and French. Kinda like my girls. And, like my girls, I only understood it only half the time. Fortunately for me, most people here speak Spanish, too, so I was able to find the right train to the hostel. 

The original plan had for us to ride the train to Barcelona at night and save us a hotel stay but they had no night trains, likely due to the strike, so I booked us a night at hostel for this first night. St Christopher's Hostels are the best places to stay, especially if traveling solo. You can't beat the prices ($15-20/person) and they have been consistently clean, friendly, and very secure. Plus breakfast is usually included. And you meet some really cool people, like the lovely Finola from Taiwan, who joined us while we had a late supper at the hostel lounge. I wish I'd thought to take a picture.

(HI, FINOLA!!!)

The next morning, we decide to walk the mile or so to our next planned hotel. I'm so glad we did. As we strolled along, we started to get a sense of the area and the people. And, it may sound trite but, from the moment we got to Barcelona, the girls and I felt at home. I really can't explain it. We just knew we belong here. Dennis, not so much. 😁

Along the way, we saw many cool sights, including the Arco de Triunfo.


A little dog sitting at a cafe. (This town LOVES dogs!)


A parrot, having his lunch.


And a sister with a cart!


Even a couple of dresses that somehow ended up coming with us.


The streets are geared more toward pedestrian than motor traffic, encouraging leisurely strolls or maybe just sit a spell. 



This was a huge, welcome difference from the hustle and bustle of London and Paris.

And the beach is magnificent!




Just make sure you stay on your preferred side of the beach. Apparently, the left side of the pier/boat launch is clothing-optional. 😳

From the people, to the weather, to the food...



... Barcelona IS home. I just didn't know to what extent!

Let me explain...

... on my next post. 😉


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