Hola, mis amigos!
I’m sorry this post is a day late- for some reason, our whole dorm lacked access to internet yesterday.
Continuing where I left off in Barcelona (Part 1), we woke up from our naps Saturday evening and got ready for dinner around 8 PM. Jordan had found a tapas place that we all wanted to check out.
For the record, when Jordan first brought up the idea of this tapas bar, I had sworn she was suggesting we go to a “topless bar” and I was very upset with her.
If you’ve ever been to those conveyor belt sushi restaurants, this place was kind of similar. All of the options were laid out behind a counter, and each cost $1. You took what you wanted, ate to your heart’s content, and paid at the end- they counted the toothpicks you had acquired. As someone who likes to eat many meals of small quantities, I loved it, and I got some really good food for so cheap.
Our plan for the night was to take part in Barcelona’s famous nightlife, so after dinner, we headed out in search of a bar to start the night off right. We were looking for a place called “Chupitas,” but navigating around an unfamiliar city at night is a little hard, and we didn’t end up finding it. Instead, we found this skate park to take pictures in.
The cool thing about being lost in Barcelona is that you’re still in Barcelona, so the sights you’re taking in are incredible. We passed some famous landmarks on our search, like the Christopher Columbus statue
and this convenience store that sold “ham snacks.”
Eventually, we passed a bar with a sign for $5 sex on the beaches that boasted, “You have to see our basement!” Well, if you insist…
We were so glad we went inside! Downstairs, they had set up a disco ball and a mini dance floor, with comfy places to sit and talk as well. We ended up spending a few hours there, and around midnight, the place really got bumpin’, with Spanish people showing off the dance moves they’re so famous for under the flashing lights.
Around 1 AM, we decided to head out and transition from bars to clubs, as is the Barcelona way. One of the most famous clubs is called “Opium,” so that’s where we headed.
Another side note: on our way to Barcelona, I overheard Caroline say, “If I see Opium while we’re there, I really want to try it.” I was appalled. Sweet, innocent Caroline! We don’t do drugs, and we certainly don’t do them just when we see them in the street! Apparently I need to get my hearing (or pop culture knowledge) checked.
We managed to skip the line (which was approximately forever long) by jumping in the VIP one behind some friendly Scottish dudes, chatting it up, and then pretending to be with them. I even got carded! Thanks for the compliment, telling me I don’t look a day over 18, Mr. Bouncer.
Once inside, I realized why this place is called Opium. Or at least references drugs. It was so easy to lose track of time, to get lost inside the massive space, and to have your senses overwhelmed by all that was going on. Here’s a video from their website: it’s not from the day we were there, but it’ll give you a good idea of the vibe.
Because I have a fear of sweaty bodies touching me and/or stepping on me in an EDM-induced haze, Jordan, Sarin, and I stayed relatively clear of the crowds and hung out with two brothers from New York. One had recently graduated college, and the other was about to be a freshman. Jordan and I had plenty of life advice for him, including, “go to class, but we know that never actually happens, so at least spend class time doing homework,” “it’s perfectly fine to make mistakes, and it’s even okay to blame them on being a freshman, but make sure they’re ones that you can laugh about later rather than actually regret,” and the ever-so-important, “don’t be afraid to talk to girls, but learn how to take a hint.”
We looked down at our phones at around 4:30 AM and realized it was probably time to go. We had quite a long walk home ahead of us, so we headed out along the beach and arrived back at our hostel around 5 AM. Who’s the grandma now?? We settled into bed ready for a long, full night’s sleep…
Just kidding! Ain’t nobody got time for that. Jordan and I woke up around 10 AM and took off for the beach. We headed for the shore right outside of Opium, as it was a good meeting place for all of the sleepy heads in our group to gather later. When we arrived, we laid out our towels, applied the rest of our flash tats, and set to napping/ tanning.
The former was a little difficult, because a popular job for gypsies in Barcelona is to go to a convenience store, stock up on cheap drinks, and then walk around the beach selling them at a huge markup. “Water beer cerveza beer!” “Cola agua beer Fanta!” “Fresh water cold mojito!” Um, no thank you kind sir, but I don’t want your “fresh” water or creepily mixed mojito or a 25 cent beer for “two euro fifty.” Pass.
Around 1, we decided to go foraging for lunch, and found a nice quick restaurant to get sammies and salads. And then, of course,
we had to get ice cream cones.
Then it was back to the beach! Eventually, our friends joined us and we formed a massive Georgia Tech swarm on the sand.
My mom said recently that she was so proud of her kids for being independent, like when Molly signed up for an SAT/ACT comparison test all on her own. I told her that I’m independent too, as Jordan and I bought a bottle of wine all on our own, and even had the guy at the Supermercado open it for us at the register so we could drink it on the beach. Yay, independence!
I reference Molly two posts in a row because apparently it’s the only way to get her to read these darned blogs.
One really fun thing about being in Europe is reading the attempted English translations on products they hope tourists will buy. Like cheap wine.
After eight hours of soakin’ up the sun, Jordan and I headed home, ready to nap (duh) and get changed for dinner.
For some reference as to how much we walk when we travel, which might explain why we have to nap so much, here’s a screenshot of my step count for Sunday, taken before 8:30 PM. Note that we had spent eight hours lying in one place, and still reached this number.
Our friend Cameron had solidified our plans for the night when he invited us on his personally led “Pub Squirm” on Facebook. (“I can’t legally call it a pub crawl, because we are only going to 2 bars.”-Cameron). Everyone had gotten really pumped.
The first stop on the squirm was a place called George Payne, an Irish pub/ karaoke bar. (I’d like to note that though Jordan and I never made it to Ireland, we’ve visited Irish pubs in almost every city, so I think that counts). The vibe was great, and we met up with a ton of squirmers.
Next, Cameron led us to Dow Jones, a bar with a pretty interesting concept. Drink prices fluctuated throughout every hour based on a made up “stock market.” Ideally, you’d wait for the market to crash so drinks would be really cheap, order then, and wait until the next crash to order more. Impatience was rewarded with higher prices.
The participants from Cameron’s Pub Squirm all gathered to take a picture so that Jordan, the company’s t-shirt chair, could have something to put on our complimentary t-shirts from the night.
I think Jordan’s favorite part of the night was this table, which boasted the logo of a brand of cider that she loves.
Around 2 AM, Caroline, Megan, Jordan, and I decided to head home, as most of us had an early train to catch the next morning. As always, the journey afforded us some beautiful views.
By the time we got home we were all exhausted and ready to hit the hay, trying to get some shut-eye before our ride to Paris.
More on that tomorrow!
Adios y hasta lavista (baby!),