Barcelona Bites Back

Sometimes unfortunate things can happen while you're traveling, and like in life, you just have to take them in stride and handle the situation. Our second day in Barcelona started well enough, but concluded with a bit of a struggle, in the form of two stolen cell phones. 

We all like to think that we're conscientious enough to not get our stuff stolen. That all those crime alerts about ripped away cell phones are just dumb people not paying enough attention. Really though, it can happen to the best of us, especially when traveling in a foreign country known for its master pickpockets. 

Barcelona sits on the southern coast of Spain, along the Balearic Sea. Brooke, Lindsey, and I thought we would take advantage of a beach day, being the California girls we are. However, though they may be beautiful, Barcelona's beaches are nothing like California. People line every inch of the sand, and there are panhandlers consistently harassing you. 

"Mojito! Mojito! Fresh mojito!" 

Also, unlike in Cali, you can't just ditch your bags on the beach and expect them to be safe. When Lindsey and I decided to go for a swim, Brooke remained on the shore to guard our purses. And this just goes to prove further, that even people who are usually paying attention and being careful can be subject to circumstance, and clever thieves, later the same day.

Barcelona may have proven to be sketchier than we knew, but it still had some undeniably beautiful spots, like the Parc de la Ciutadella. 

Most of the people trying to get your money on the street are all kinds of annoying, but who doesn't love a good bubble man? 

The Parc is rather huge, and we must have missed half of it (the zoo included) in our moseying wander. 

To escape the Parc, we made a grand exit through the Arc de Triomf. If you remember from Rome, arches like this are not exclusive to the famed Arc de Triomphe in Paris, and are actually common signs of triumph (note the name) throughout Europe. Barcelona's arc, however, is actually much newer than most, being built in 1888 for the World Fair. Your welcome, for the Kenna-fun-fact of the day. 

Eventually we dove back into the narrow streets of the city, grateful for the escape from the blazing sun. 

Down one of the less populated streets we found an up class tapas bar (name unknown) for a late lunch. 

Naturally, we started with a crisp, chilled white wine. 

We shared an array of tapas to start. 

Unfilled by our starters, we ordered a second plate, and introduced Brooke & Lindsey to the wonderful world of tartare. I too was initially skeptical of the a dish made of raw beef when I first sampled it, however, if you like a rare burger, and are an adventurous foodie, I highly suggest you pick a nice restaurant to try it at, because it's really quite excellent. 

After lunch we made our way back to our hostel to freshen up and plan our dinner (since we obviously hadn't just eaten). Heading to the grocery store, we grabbed a baguette, cheese, some prosciutto, and a bottle of wine (the basic ingredients of what would be our go-to's for the rest of the trip). 

We took our portable dinner with us to the "magic" of the Fountain of Montjuïc, I mentioned earlier. 

From the steps of the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, the lights of the city gleam bright, and magically, though that is not the actual "magic" part.

For several hours, beginning when it gets dark, the Montjuïc performs an incredibly impressive light show synced to musical accompaniment.

After the light show, we continued on into the night with more of the acclaimed nightlife of Barcelona. It would prove to be a long night, with much damage control, post-stolen-cell-phones to be done. 

At the time, the whole unfortunate incident really put a damper on our feelings about Barcelona, but to be fair, looking back now, it is actually a pretty amazing city, and I have to accept that I do see why so many people find it so dazzling. 

We even still had two more days to be impressed by; and trust me, if Gaudi knew how to do one thing well, it was impress.  

Yours, Kenna