Barcelona: Day 3--Last day in Europe

Barcelona

Check out was at 10am, so we woke up at 9:50, told the desk we were checking out, then went back to bed for another hour or so. At around noon Max and I went out to grab some lunch and hit the beach. It was about a 20-minute walk to the beach and by the time we got there it was sizzling hot! First thing was first; Max and I sat out for an hour or so and got our tan on. Then, after debating whether or not to get a massage (I ultimately decided no, for all those wondering) we hit the boardwalk for some drinks then made our way back to the hostel to pick up our luggage and grab some dinner.
We stopped at a restaurant with outdoor seating to enjoy one last meal and take advantage of the 18 year-old drinking age one last time. Shelman asked for a Heineken and, because they didn’t have a drink menu, I said I’d take whatever beer he recommended. Dude came back a minute later with a Heineken for Max and a non-alcoholic beer for me. Thanks, Bro. Really hit it out of the park with one. The only thing worse than having to pay for a non-alcoholic beer is the fact that the waiter pegged me for the type who’d really one. YMAPE, sir. Anyways, we ate our meals, I drank my beer-water, and we headed off for the airport. It was 8 pm by the time we made it to the airport (after waiting at 2 wrong bus stops for the airport shuttle) and our flight wasn’t until 6:30 am the next day. However, not wanting to shell out extra money for another night at the hostel, we made the decision to just crash at the airport. The building itself was pretty sweet, lots of restaurants and shopping to be had, though we just went to sleep on the hard tile floor. Oh, and by the way Shelman ran out of contact solution so the night before he filled his contact holders with Visine instead, which I guess wasn’t a great idea because his right eye got pretty swollen, but anyways…
We woke up at 5:15 and after zombie-ing around for a bit, got on the plane for our connecting flight to Amsterdam to pass out. We then slept for the entirety of the five hour layover in Amsterdam then got on the plane to JFK, where I’m writing this now after a dinner and several (free) dranks.
So, there you have it, folks and friends. Max and I made it through three weeks in Europe with just a backpack each. Hit 11 cities in 20 days, visited 13 UNESCO world heritage sites (as far as I can tell), and only lost one backpack lock (as well as about $2,600, but it was $2,600 well spent). We got beef goulash and great beer in Prague, white sausage in Germany, weird pancakes in Amsterdam, authentic Belgian waffles, croissants and a Royal with Cheese in Paris, steak in Barcelona, gelato and pizza from all around Italy, pasta from Florence, fresh seafood from the Cinque Terre, and wiener schnitzel in Vienna. We saw ancient buildings, modern architecture, countless churches, castles, and gardens, and even had time to hit the beach. We took boats, planes, trains, cars, subways, buses, and bikes. Met people from Holland, Argentina, Germany, England, Australia, Ireland, Turkey, Italy, France, Sweden, Switzerland, New Zealand, Russia, Czech Republic, Denmark, Mexico, Norway, Uruguay, and Ecuador. Thanks for following along, everyone. We’ll leave you with this final piece of advice: Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you.
All for now,
Sneaky n’ Slimetodd

PICTURES: The last picture of Europe with all our luggage; Me eating a last meal in Europe before we left for the Barcelona Airport

Barcelona: Day 2

Barcelona

The weather wasn’t great in the morning but we couldn’t complain—until this point we had mostly sun. The worst weather we ran into during our three weeks in Europe were two days of morning showers that quickly cleared up. Anyways, as history history tends to repeat itself (sic), the weather cleared up by the early afternoon.
We took the metro to the Sagrada Familia, the biggest and most famous work by innovative 19th century architect Antoni Gaudi. We then made our way to two other Gaudi houses just down the block and then up to the Parc Guell, a park designed by Gaudi. All of the places we visited were amazingly unique and way ahead of their time. We got a quick bite in the park and after walking by a few bush-league street performers (one guy just dancing to no music, one guy blowing bubbles, just real rookie stuff) headed home for dinner.
We went to dinner with our two roommates, Emma and Sarah from England, as well as a kid named Eric from Oregon, and an Aussie named Steve. Steve was a real character. The dude was 39 and more full of BS than he was full of himself. He was the king of one-upping. Anything you had done, he had done better. You’re in college? He has his masters. You like the Mets? He likes the Yankees. You’ve never been to England? He never has and never will. Don’t get me wrong, this guy was amusing beyond belief but really just sort of a nut case.
Anyways, that night we went out to a place on the boardwalk called IceBarcelona. It was a beachside bar with a back room made entirely out of ice that was -15 degrees C (dunno what that is Fahrenheit but trust me it’s cold). Max had a good time dishing out drinks, and I had a blast listening to Steve tell more and more outrageous stories. Overall it was a great way to spend our last night out in Europe.

PICTURES: IceBarcelona; The entrance to Parc Guell; Shelman at Parc Guell; La Sagrada Familia

Barcelona: Day 1

Barcelona

The ride to Barcelona was rough. Our first train was at 7 in the morning and one of our connecting trains was absolutely terrible. It was a rinky-dink red box-on-wheels that looked like it was being held together by scotch tape. The train was so full that even with people standing in the aisles, some passengers were left behind because they couldn’t fit inside. Definitely a ride to remember. Anyways, miracle of miracles we made it to Barcelona at about 4:00. We stopped for lunch on the way to the hostel. I ordered at double hamburger, which was literally just that. Two beef patties on a plate. Great. Max had a chicken sandwich that came with a fried egg on top (eggs, we later learned, came on top of pretty much everything). We unpacked, looked up things to do in Barcelona, geeked around for a little while, then passed out.

Paris: Day 2

Paris

We set off for the Palace of Versailles early in the morning by way of subway. The first stop was the garden, although this was more like Central Park than a garden. God knows how long it would take to explore the entirety of the massive garden, but I’ll tell you one thing, Shelman and I were not about to find out. We took a small tour, hitting all of the main attractions (still took us nearly two hours) where we saw this little bug:



Figure 1: Not sure what kind of bug this was but I sure dug its colors! (Cooler than this bug: http://ghanaphotoandvideo.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-red-bug.html? Vote in the comments section)

Then made our way to the actual building to get a look at the famed Hall of Mirrors as well as whatever else was in the Palace. Keep in mind now that we were on a time budget here. Today was our only full day to see Paris, so not only did we have to tour the palace but we also had to get back to the city, see the Eiffel Tower, and get my Royal with Cheese all before dinner and it was getting sort of late. With a line just to buy a ticket to the palace that looked to be two hours long, there was no chance that this was happening. So Shelman wormed his way to the front of the ticket line (instituted ‘cutsies’ if you will) and I met him there. Getting to the front of the ticket line in a minute when others waited an hour to get there may have been sort of a mean thing to do, but sometimes the ends justify the mean, right? (see: The Office) Anyways, we got into the palace, rented an audio tour type thing, checked out the hall of mirrors, the king’s room and all that good stuff then were on the way to the Eiffel Tower in no time.
The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower is pretty awesome—the climb to the top is not. After goofing around for a bit up top, Max and I made our way back down (took the elevator down because as much as I hate walking up stairs, nothing grinds my gears like having to walk down hundreds of stairs. The whole way down as I thump down stair after stair, all I think about is how much more awesome a slide would be. Like it wouldn’t be that hard to install and it would make the walk up totally worth it. Although if it’s one of those plastic type slides like at McDonald’s with those fat metal screws on them that shock you on your way down, then forget about it, I’ll just take the stairs. Cause if there’s one thing I hate it’s getting shocked by fat metal screws and if there’s two things I hate it’s getting shocked by fat metal screws on slides and cancer (see: East Bound and Down). Anyways, I digress)
That night, nearly out of money, we went to the grocery store for dinner and picked up pasta and beer—a French classic (so we were told). Not wanting to nearly miss our train again, we called it an early night and woke up at 7am the next morning headed for Barcelona.

PICTURES: Max at the Eiffel Tower; Me in the famous Hall of Mirrors; Me at the Gardens of Versailles; Shelman at a fountain in the Gardens; a picture of the colorful Gardens

Paris: Day 1

Paris

The train ride from Florence to Paris was nuts. I woke up at 8:53 am in our hotel room with clothes and cantaloupe scattered everywhere. Our train, I realized suddenly, was at 9:00. I quickly ran the numbers (thanks, Mr. Jolley) and, if my calculations were correct, figured we had seven minutes to pack, check out of the hotel, and get to the train station. I shook Max awake, gave him the rundown, and we booked it out of the hotel. As we ran down the street, half of our clothes in our bags, the other half falling out of our bags, and the third half in our hands, I remembered that if we missed this train we likely wouldn’t be able to get another one to Paris before our return flight home. Instead, we would have to spend more money on another train ticket directly to Barcelona and skip Paris altogether. Determined not to miss an opportunity to get a Royal with Cheese from Paris (see: Pulp Fiction) and maybe Louvre and the Eiffel Tower if there was time, we got on our proverbial horses and turned the jets on all the way to the station.
The finish was more last minute than Landon Donovan’s World Cup goal. Closer than Michael Phelp’s photo finish. More thrilling than Fairfield, CT going to the Little League World Series. And more exhausting (exhaustive?) than this list of recent great sporting moments. At any rate, we made the train and enjoyed a peaceful ride to Paris.
Upon arrival at 7:30, we realized that the Louvre was free for students under 26 after 6:00pm on Fridays with a passport (pretty specific guidelines, huh? I had to read the rules like 5 times to make sure we qualified, which we did). We went right from the train station to the Louvre and saw some of the greatest works of art in one of the most famous museums in the world.
Afterwards, we stopped at a nearby McDonald’s for dinner. I was beaming when I saw that the Royal with Cheese was on the menu, but when I ordered it they said they didn’t have it (not sure if it was sold out or what, their English wasn’t very good). Needless to say, I hadn’t be this disappointed since I ran out of sports metaphors to describe our train station dash (see above). I settled for a Big Mac and we made our way home for the night.

PICTURES: Me at the Louvre with all our luggage for 3 weeks; Shelman with the Venus de Milo, Me with the Mona Lisa, Us at the Louvre