I leave Barcelona in roughly 24 hours. For the past week my thoughts have been consumed by what I’m looking forward to and what I am sad to say goodbye to. I decided to dedicate this blog to what I am looking forward to most. I’ll save my goodbyes for another blog…Over the course of my 20 hour journey back to the US, I am going to write a pretty epic goodbye blog. I’m going to write about everything I’ve learned, and it’s probably going to get a little bit sappy. So for those of you who prefer my funnier blogs (and let’s face it, we all do), hopefully this one will be just that.
Right now I imagine myself lying on my couch with my feet hanging over to touch the carpet, petting Oliver in one hand, and eating a burrito in the other. Ideally, I will be freshly showered too….and I wouldn’t mind if someone were giving me a pedicure.
That mental picture covers a few main things I am looking forward to. First off, carpet. I know that doesn’t seem like it should be a big deal, but try to imagine life without it. My apartment is floored with what looks like wood, but is actually freezing stone. My feet are always disgustingly dirty and cold. Most of the time, I put my slippers right outside my shower and step directly into them. It’s like playing hot lava when I was little…I do everything I can not to touch the floor. Unfortunately, I play by myself and I always lose.
The next item is pretty obvious – Oliver. And all of my animals for that matter. Spain is wonderful because everyone has a dog. There are dogs everywhere. But unlike the US, Spanish people don’t like it when you pet their dogs. It’s really sad. I just have to love them from afar (or sneak a quick pet when they’re owners aren’t looking). Then there’s the problem with lack of grass in Barcelona, so they just poop on the streets. It’s disgusting. Oliver is way too much of a gentleman to do that.
Then we have the burrito. Mexican food. YUM. Hopefully no one reading this is under the assumption that Spanish food and Mexican food are similar. They may speak the same language, but their food is radically different. Example: a tortilla in Spain is actually a potato omelette. Spanish food isn’t spicy…at all. I made my family bring me Tapatio, so I could at least cook spicy food. I considered just carrying it in my purse, but I think Spaniards might frown upon me taking out my bottle of Tap at a restaurant.
Pedicure. Well, I love pedicures. That’s pretty much a given. But the reason I am dying to have one is because my feet have literally not stopped hurting since I got to Barcelona. I’m a huge supporter of stilettos (helllloooo instead confidence booster), but wearing them 4 days a week does not feel good. When I first got here I was convinced that I actually broke my feet. I couldn’t walk. Now I just have to hobble to get water when I wake up in the morning. After about 20 minutes I can put pressure on the balls of my feet again. Then I put on boots to go out during the day and walk for hours. Repeat next day. I guess I shouldn’t reallllyyy be complaining about how rough it is to go to clubs and get dressed up all the time, but come on.
Beyond those things, my list includes:
1. toilet seat covers: I’ve been squatting over toilets for 4 months…it’s basically the only physical exercise I do
2. barefoot acceptance – duh
3. not texting in ABC / using a Nokia brick phone – It takes me roughly 10 minutes to send every text message.
4. no language barrier – no matter how many times I tried to ask to rent a locker at the gym, no one ever understood me. I know that completely contradicts my claim that I don’t work out, but I wanted the dramatic effect….Coming home with jacked quads and glutes because I’ve been squatting over toilets is quite amusing.
5. Clothes drier – hang drying my clothes wasn’t that big of an inconvenience when it was still summer weather. Now that it’s cold it takes approximately 3-4 days for my clothes to dry. For reason, we never bought more clothes pins, so we only have about 6. I just hang my clothes on the line anyway. Now when you look down our apartment “terrace”, you can see a black shirt, pink underwear, and about 5 socks. Considering rats live in that alley way, I’ll just go ahead and leave them there.
6. Water at restaurants – In Spain, you have to pay to drink water at a restaurant. It’s normally a tiny bottle of water that costs more than a glass of wine. I can’t wait to chug glass after glass at my first meal out. It won’t even bother me when the lingering waiter fills my glass even though I’ve only had one sip. In fact, I’ll probably demand it.
7. “Just running to pick up milk outfits” – Spaniards are not into sweat pants. I guess I’m not really a fan of public sweat pants either. I try to keep my pajama radius (how far I willing to travel in pajamas) to a small distance. That being said, when I want to grab a cafe con leche from Supan, which is literally 4 doors down from my apartment, I would like it to be appropriate to wear a zip up hoodie, cotton shorts, tube socks, and moccasins.
Now I’m off to enjoy my last day in Barcelona. My activities will include going to Sagrada Familia, running along the beach, wandering down las ramblas to finish Christmas shopping, eating my last meal with my roomies, and then packing. I’m not exactly sure how four months have managed to slip by…good thing I have images of burritos, dogs, showers, carpet, and so much more to keep my mind occupied.