tiny cities made of ashes

A twenty first birthday, a bit of Barcelona, and broken feet.

I spent the last weekend in February traveling to Barcelona. An incredible, enormous city.

I finally spent three nights at my first real hostel. The other hostels I previously stayed at were certainly crossing the boundary of hostel and hotel. Shared bathrooms, metal bunk beds, lockers, and an included breakfast of bags of bread – a new experience. Beyond the accommodations the hostel also  took willing youths, and not so youths, to a Mojito bar and then to a club. One of the clubs that we visited, Opium, was situated along the beaches of Barcelona with a patio opening up to the sand.

We spent our days walking across Barcelona; the Sagrada Família, Park Güell, Park Montjuic, Las Ramblas, and along the beaches and ports. When we told others of where and how far we walked, they said that was nearly impossible. The condition of our feet was evidence of the distance, possibly a marathon (all walked in Frye boots thanks to RyanAir baggage restrictions).

Park Montjuic, includes a variety of small quiet green spaces and gardens which overlooks the city as well as the port. Less crowded than other Barcelona attractions, I found it to be calming and beautiful.

La Bouqueria, a famous food market was also a favorite. There were booths set up displaying bountiful fruits and vegetables, nuts, chocolates, eggs, seafood, meats, cheeses, and juices. To be able to shop here daily and prepare meals from this array of food would be incredible.

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tiny cities made of ashes

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