Adios España: Madrid & Barcelona

So this sneaky little post comes to you a little after the fact. I'm actually in Germany- have been for a week or two - but the last leg of my epic, and epicurean, trip through Spain deserves internet immortality, godamnnit!

 View straight up the centre of the “Sangria Familia” as my American friend, unjokingly, called it. 

Gaudi would be sah proud.

 On a serious note, Segrada Familia totally blew me out of my church stupor (a disease which strikes European travellers sometime between their 30th and 300th visit to a cathedral). Just when I thought I'd seen enough church for a lifetime, along came this beauty and, well, I saw the light. 

Before Barcelona I also had a semi spiritual experience: fresh Churros in Madrid.

Our lovely Madrid hostess Diana, and the even more lovely Churros. Luckily for us Diana had a gorgeous family and the damn fun friends who owned both a pool and a tapas restaurant. Connections!

 We ate chocolate and then made art. Gracias indeed.

A day or two after, when the chocolate had left our bloodstreams, we went to Sergovia. I dragged Ren along for a day trip, mainly cause it sounded like ‘Genovia’ which is the imaginary kingdom Anne Hathaway rules over in The Princess Diaries. Mature travel choices? Check.

Stalking a cute little Sergovian girl.

Aaaaand exploring the ancient Roman aquaduct, which wasn't super interesting actually. Anne Hathaway and/or Prince Charming was nowhere to be found. Renee decided to climb up and perform an impromptu dance routine to spice the structure up a little.

 I miss traveling with this lady, but in Madrid we said our goodbyes (Renee's gone off to study in California). Thankfully the structures in Barcelona didn't really need spicing up.

 In Barcelona I got off the bus and went directly to Parc Grüell (aka. Gaudi Gardens) which felt like a ceramic acid trip through a sauna to my backpacked and sleep deprived being.

Great grout!

When I was finally able to check into my hostel I found it was soooo worth the wait. Past Chanel, Valentino and up the white marble staircase... I snuck a photo in one of the three 'lobby' rooms of the hostel (Casa Gracia btw, incase any of you were after a sweet hostel in Barcelona).

But I didn't just lurk in the pretty hostel. Solo and left to my own devices in Barcelona I defaulted to beach trips. I generally just walked there - I had time to kill and the people watching was world class. Besides, the one 37 degree day that I decided to catch a metro to the beach, the line broke down and I was stuck, pressed into some Spaniard's armpit, for a whole 20 minutes until service was recovered... I don't think my nose ever will.

 Skipping back to the Segrada Familia, and it's still. being. built. Honestly it's taking longer to finish than L.O.S.T. Construction began in 1889 - yeah, I read the info plaques- so you can do the maths there.

Here I am on the fringes of the Gothic quarter of the city, by the fountain made famous by Woody Allen's film 'Vicky Chrstina Barcelona'. Don't I just look exactly like Penelope Cruis guys?...Guys?

Then on my last day I caught up with Charlotte, a Parisian friend from my containers in Amsterdam. Charlotte. We went to the Sant Josep Markets just off La Rambla and hustled some fresh fruits to offset the tapas that had become my staple diet for the past two weeks.

And so I bid farewell to Spain, still able to say much more that ‘adios’ and ‘muchos gracias’ but meaning both those things sincerely. Watch this space for more recent news (and gushes) about Hamburg and Berlin.