48 Hours in Barcelona in January

Hours 1-24:

Let me paint you a picture: you’re living abroad in Madrid where beer is cheaper than water and taking the train to Barcelona at 6:05 a.m. is even cheaper. On a rainy Friday morning, my best friend and I took the early bird train out of the Atocha train station to experience our city’s rival—Barcelona. Most people at home automatically assume we live in Barcelona when they find out we live in Spain. This is a fair assessment given the amount of Americans. Try to speak Spanish? Catalan? No, English, please.

We arrived at Barcelona-Saints station at 9 a.m. and navigated the city’s metro system. After a quick 30 minutes on public transportation, we made it to United Hostel. If you’ve read about my LONDON experience, you know this was only my second time staying in a hostel (if you even count the first, just go read that story). Carrying my extra large gray travel backpack on my sore shoulders and my pink duffle pinching my elbow socket, I was cursing whoever suggested this eyesore backpack, when I met the gaze of some of the cutest boys I’ve ever seen. We dropped our stuff off until check-in at 3 and I could already tell this was going to be much better than what our London hostel had to offer.

Our first stop was one of the top tourist attractions. We bought our tickets to Casa Batlló at 5 am on our way to the train station, so we got lucky with our 12:15 reservation time. If you’re not familiar, as I was not, Casa Batlló is a brilliant home designed by the even more brilliant Antoni Gaudí. We chose the silver package which came to about 16 euros for Spanish residents, and I wholeheartedly recommend this experience. We got this little iPad and headphones that were narrated by what I imagined to be a mermaid, guiding whimsical imagination to every sense in your body as you walk through the home. Gaudí was a magnificent architect, evident in every crevice of the house. Hints of nature invite child-like wonder and curved waves on the ceiling create a tsunami chandelier. Light blue tiles scale the walls of the stairs and with every step, you’re immersed deeper and bluer until you ascend to the bottom of the ocean surrounded by deep cobalt hues defying the gravity of the sea at the top steps. The blurry wave-patterned glass on each landing becomes blurrier and blurrier the higher you climb. Every small detail accumulates to mesmerize the senses. If Dr. Suess were an architect, he would design this home.

On the way down, walls are replaced by rows of chains from ceiling to floor. A light breeze whispers past to every so slightly rattle the chains. You can’t quite tell if there is a breeze or if the soft hum of chains rattling is the energy of those who descended before you. You can’t help but walk down with your fingers tracing the chains, adding to the dance of the metal forest around you. This place does what I suppose is the aim of all art, to leave its recipient emotional, inspired, and curious. I left feeling all of the above and lucky that another human created such beauty to share with others.

NEXT STOP was a casual walk through the streets of Barcelona in La Rambla, an upscale street full of shopping which reminded me of Gran Via/Salamanca area in Madrid. It was fine. It was raining. We persisted. It was best we were bundled up anyway to protect ourselves from the prolific pickpockets of the city. We stopped by the cutest vintage store, Moirai Market. I bought the CUTEST white fluffy hat that was the star of the weekend. Although not vintage at all, the charming store manager is quite good at her job of convincing me to buy what was probably a 5-euro hat for quadruple the price. No regrets.

Next, we had lunch at a famous spot (maybe just famous for American study abroad kids) called Bo de B. There seems to always be a line but it is so worth it. 

After a nice wet stroll, we checked into our hostel. So. Freaking. Nice. It did not smell like feet. Win. It was not blisteringly hot. Win. It was an all-girls room. Win. It was clean and there was a bathroom and shower in the room. Big win. Four bunk beds (8 total) were built into opposite walls in a modern wood finish. The window wall in between the bunk bed walls gave a gorgeous view of the city from the fifth floor.

After we checked in and regrouped, we decided it would be an early night for us. The 4:45 am wake-up call combined with the intense desire not to get pickpocketed equaled no girls at the club this weekend. We got changed and headed to Paradiso for drinks & apps. This is one of the top 50 bars in the WORLD. Recommended to us by a friend, they were so right to send us here because we truly felt like royalty. I don’t know if it was my new white fluffy hat or two blonde American girls’ charm but the staff loved us. With a speakeasy-like entrance, we were guided to a special door after the faux storefront door and greeted so enthusiastically. We were originally sat in a dark corner and then moments upon arrival relocated to the first two seats at the bar adjacent to the door. Best spots.

We ordered exquisite cocktails created in the essence of different objects/themes throughout time. For example, my first drink was called Legacy, and inspired by writing it contained: Santa Teresa 1796 rum, olive oil, rosolio, fennel, caper honey, and citrus. Notes of floral, citrus, fresh, and from about 3,000AC. Obviously, I’m a writer so it was a natural first choice. It was served inside a hollowed-out book over dry ice with a scroll-like garnish with various Latin words inscribed on the edible decorative piece. I was instructed to eat the garnish and drink at the same time. It was exactly what the menu said it would be: floral, citrus, and fresh, but it was also the epitome of hospitality. The bartender sent us over shots of Prosecco and all our servers were extremely attentive with the water, which might sound bizarre but it’s such a rarity to find in Spain. I swear everyone here is dehydrated. The bartender also fastened rings out of flowers for me. The first one was some sort of dandelion fasted onto a piece of wood he spiraled to fit on my finger. After my second drink, a rose for my ring finger. He did ask for my number near the end of our time at this bar so one could say this exceptional service was motivated by romantic desire, but who am I to decline special treatment?

My second drink you ask? Immersion. Inspired by technology in 2022, this drink was: Flor de Caña 12 rum, amaro salvia, yuzu, seaweed, coconut, roasted pineapple, hibiscus, lemon, and seaweed sorbet. Notes of tropical, saline, and sweet. Why did I get it? It was served in an oyster cup. My favorite food. Not because I have a special affinity for technology. Although I should, considering that’s what makes my writing available to you, but I digress dear reader.

After a couple of cocktails, my darling friend and I hit a wall and had to escape the unreasonable hospitality before I started flirting too hard with the bartender.

It was late, we were exhausted and starved. Where did we go next? Kebab. Kebab dinner is sometimes the easiest option. It's gonna be super average service and tastes the same no matter what country you’re in. After a quick eat in the super bizarre velvet-lined dining room this cheap shop had, we took the metro back to our hostel where I had the comfiest sleep ever. Ten blissful hours knowing it was only girls my age staying in the same room.

Hours 24-48

Day two.

After the most beautiful sleep my body had been begging for after 23,000 steps on day one; we woke up about 10 am and headed to La Sagrada Familia. I don’t know if it's just us or if Barcelona tourist attractions are all odes to Gaudí, but if so, I agree especially after seeing this magnificent church. This is the kind of church that Jesus would come back for. In fact, after this visit, I’m starting to think that if the second coming of Christ comes upon the completion of La Sagrada Familia, it will not be a coincidence (kidding, kind of).

Let me tell you about the feeling this place invokes first: I cried. I laughed. I prayed (truth be told it had been a while). The sheer magnitude and beauty would make an adamant atheist believe in God, even if just for a second. I have never seen anything so specially spiritual and awe-striking. Another guided tour you can do from an app on your phone, the ten euro entrance could have been more. Is there really a price for curing depression? Isn’t finding your life purpose priceless? Can you tell I love it here?

The 45-minute guided audio tour talks you through the history of the church and its many architects. I won’t pretend I remember the dates and names but crazily Gaudí passed in a freak tram accident so the only parts he saw finished were the nativity facade and the basilica. (if my memory serves me) But, he entrusted his vision to be carried on by various other architects to be made in his essence. 

After we saw what seemed to be one of the seven wonders of the world (also showing how much more traveling I still have to do), we hiked uphill for about 20 minutes to Park Güell, another creation of Gaudí. He seems to be the central theme of this trip. If you were a little girl growing up in the 2000’s then you already know what the main attraction of this park is. We of course had to see the scene from The Cheetah Girls!!

 This plaza overlooks the entire city of Barcelona with distant views of the ocean. The burn in your thighs walking this steep uphill is worth it for the view alone. The 10-euro entrance fee should have been more like 5-euro but we were starving so we didn’t stay as long as we maybe should have. There are various buildings/homes on the property but none that we could enter to my understanding. Upon exiting you see more of Gaudí’s mind as this was essentially his backyard (his home is on the property) with bridges, coliseums, and essences of the ocean, as his affinity for nature is evident in most of his creations.

We walked down the street a bit and had lunch at Olot Cafe, right off the park. It was a beautiful day in January with weather in the upper 50s and the sun shining so we chose to enjoy lunch on the terrace. After some quick tapas, we walked downhill (thank god) to catch the metro to the beach.

Once we got back down to Barceloneta, we walked along the harbor, saw the mega yachts, and then made it to the beach. The boardwalk was filled with people skating, dancing, selling things, and building sandcastles. There were a few brave surfers and one insane swimmer polar plunging with no wetsuit. This beach was young, lively, and touristy. Exactly what you want on your first trip to a new city. We walked down the beach admiring the waves and feeling comfort in the sand, no matter the time of year. There were three of the most elaborate sand sculptures I had ever seen. The first one was so impressive that I did donate my remaining coins to his bucket; he had a fire-breathing dragon on one end and a water fountain on the other. I’m serious… real fire coming out of the sand dragon and real water coming out of the other end. It was remarkable engineering I will say.

After the beach, we made a quick Zara run because Madison needed an outfit for dinner at Cecconi’s (Soho House). We headed back to the hostel to get ready quickly and then made it to our 7:30 reservation at about 7:45 (it’s Spain okay everyone is late).

I know what you’re thinking, “Soho House? Hostel?” I understand those phrases may be juxtapositions to you but I like to think of it as balance and trusting that abundance is coming in life. Or we just have a taste for the finer things in life and a pension for transferring money over from my savings every month (sorry Dad).

We deserved this immaculate dinner because………. fill in the blank for the minor inconvenience this week?

But seriously try the bone marrow risotto and skip the chicken pancetta. 

Naturally, we had to have a nightcap. Espresso martinis with reposed tequila por favor. Trust me this is the best way to drink them. Tell me how much you love it later.

A nightcap usually turns into a few more drinks at the bar for my sister and me but thankfully we did not make it to the club this weekend. That’s a win in our book. I’m so glad I cannot tell you about the clubs in Barcelona, truly. The Madrid club article coming soon ugh…….

To end the night we had a boy from Hinge come to meet us at the bar for a drink (he doesn’t even drink). It was a cute 30 minutes where I was tipsy and he was sober. I gained an Instagram follower who will occasionally like my stories, and maybe we will flirt or joke about seeing one another again with no real intention or consequence. That’s what the pursuit of a relationship abroad is anyway. I'll probably always go back to America, but it's fun to dream.

Experiences in new lands always leave you wondering what your life would be like if you stayed. Who would be our friends, our lovers, would our dreams come true here? That’s part of the magic of traveling, you never have to stay to find out and you never get disappointed. The dream keeps living when you leave a little piece of your heart all over the world. No matter where you go or how broken your heart gets, a healthy piece is always living and beating abroad holding space and time if you ever want to come back to her.

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