Lost in BCN

Okay, the title isn't metaphorical this time.  And the "BCN" part is real too, even though perhaps a tad overdone in my case because I feel like I talk about Barcelona a lot.  Oh well.  Deal with it.

Here's my story about the time I got legitimately lost in Barcelona.  On my 5th day in the city I had it planned that I was going to spend the entire day out and about, on my feet, just exploring the city.  I'd already been to the tourist traps: Parc Güell, the Sagrada Família, the Passeig de Gràcia and the Rambles, as well as Camp Nou, and just wanted to do some wandering.  The day earlier, after meeting up with some lovely people I'd met on social networks like LiveJournal and Twitter, I bought myself a new pair of flats, and (biggest mistake of my life), I decided to wear them on my "day on the town".  Yeah, probably shouldn't have done that.  My feet were throbbing by three pm.  I wandered into the Barceloneta for lunch, and ended up eating at a make-your-own Chinese/Asian place on the beach when I checked my phone for Facebook messages, and saw that a family friend who lived in Barcelona had invited me to the church service at their house in the evening.  The Barceloneta is not at all accessible via subway, so I ended up walking down the Passeig de l'Arenal till I got to the Vila Olímpica, where there's a tram line that goes into the area of the Eixample where they live, just out of Poblenou (if you're not familiar with Barcelona geography this is really not that important).

Artsy Fartsy?

I like art.  For years people thought I was going to be an artist because I happen to be really good with pencil and paper.  I've been drawing since I was two, and some of my drawings have been featured on programs for Christmas programs and such through my school.  It got to the point where that's what I wanted to do, where I wanted to be, before I had even an inkling of how the art world actually worked.  I grew up in a fairly artistic/creative family: my mom is an incredible artist, much better than I could ever hope to be at this point, and my paternal grandfather does beautiful oil paintings and ink drawings.  Even my dad, the engineer, can put pen to paper and come up with something that looks good, even if what comes out does look more architectural.  All of my three siblings and I have some kind of art talent, even my youngest brother who was never "artsy" like the rest of us but who is now going to school for pre-architecture.  I guess you could say that even though my family certainly doesn't fit the bill for an "artist family" or a "family of artists", we all grew up with a vast appreciation for the arts.

Bilbao

Photo © Aitor Agirregabiria

It feels so weird after the fact, knowing that I spend 2 1/2 years living a 40-minute subway ride from this area (plus a 20-minute walk if I'm going to the Guggenheim), the Guggenheim being such a mecca for modern art and even just an architectural icon in and of itself.

It feels so weird to me.  To me, it was always just "home", it was where I lived, where I'd occasionally go on weekends, occasionally going a couple months without ever going into Bilbao and spending all of our time in the suburbs.  It was a special occasion when we had to run some errands in Bilbao and made the 30-minute drive in.  But not because it was Bilbao, but because it was the city.

And now, with how big it's gotten, how modernized it's become (it didn't lookhalf as nice when we were living there 11 years ago; all that was notable was the Guggenheim and Calatrava's Zubi Zuri, and maybe the Teatro Arriaga), and the amount of languages other than Spanish that can now be heard, including Basque, it's weird.  I almost felt like a foreigner going back last summer.

It is funny though, I saw my first Andy Warhol (the Marilyn Monroe piece, as well as some of the Campbell's Soup ones) pieces when we visited in November 1997, a month after the museum opened and probably a few weeks after we moved in.  I think that was my first taste of "real" art.

Growing Up Expat

I don't usually follow adult expat blogs (blogs about people living overseas as adults) on principle, but I found a post today from one of them that just really "spoke" to me.  I actually reblogged it on Tumblr, and added my own two cents (which technically became more like a dollar, because if you know me, you know I like to ramble), since my experiences living overseas were different from the person who wrote the original post, but yet the attitudes are the same.

The thing is, so many people think that living abroad is like a massive extended vacation.  That you're "living the life" because you're not living in "boring ol' Amerr'ca" (or wherever).  To be perfectly honest though, that's not what it's like at all.  You still have to go work, or school, or whatever.  You still have things to do that you may not want to do.  Just because you're living in another country doesn't mean you stop being frustrated at people and things that you don't like.  Things don't become more tolerable abroad than they are at home.

I love H&M

I got paid for my 2-week job the other day, and because I'd seen this pair of boots at H&M that I knew I needed to have in my collection, I went out yesterday and picked them up.  They actually had them in my size, which is a feat in and of itself because nothing besides tops (which are more one-size-fits-all than pants and shoes) I can manage to find in my size at any given moment, much less when I actually plan on getting them.

So when I did find them and see a pair in my size, I grabbed them.  I always feel weird spending lots of money on things (call me thrifty if you want, I won't correct you) and always end up with a little bit of buyer's remorse after just about any and every purchase I make.  But these...I put them on and checked them out with my skinny jeans, and I have to say, I am in love.  For wanting them so badly from the first time I saw them to actually putting them on and seeing what they look like on me, I really am in love.  I can wear them with skinny jeans, which is what I'll be wearing with them the most until I can do some more clothing shopping and can find skirts, tops and dresses that will also work with them, and some lacy tights I picked up to go with them expressly (though they might work with my flats as well if I can find some other clothes to go with them).  This season I vow to revamp my wardrobe and buy clothes that are more "fashionable" and nice, since at the moment I basically live in bootcut jeans and sneakers.  I'm actually excited, though a bit daunted, since I honestly don't know what looks good on me and since I am probably the worst shopper ever since I won't buy anything unless I know that I will wear it and will like it on me.  But we'll see.  Maybe I can enlist the help of my brother's new girlfriend, who will probably be much more suited to helping me pick out clothes than anyone else I know at the moment.

Give Me Barcelona

I know I've already posted about how much I love Barcelona.  I don't even care if I sound like a broken record at this point.  I adore this city.  It's something I'll probably say a lot here, just because I can.  Because I can, because there are very few people who would even dare to argue with me on this, because there's really no point to arguing.

Paris bored me.  Rome annoyed me.  But Barcelona...Barcelona I got lost in.  Literally and figuratively.  Barcelona is, so far, the only city I have had plans be ruined in and still hasn't ruined my experiences.  In between running down the Passeig de Gràcia to find a bathroom and finally ending up at the Rodalies station in Plaça Catalunya where none of the stalls had toilet paper and shrugging it off later on to spend some time at the beach with my friends the first five days I spent there in 2008 to the time I got on the wrong tram and ended up in Sant Adrià del Besòs where I sat waiting for another tram for twenty minutes in front of the Centre Tèrmic (that building with the three smokestacks) the day after buying new shoes and deciding to wear them out as I did some exploring.  Not only did I also get on the wrong tram, on the way back into the city when I'd finally gotten to where I thought I needed to be, I got lost in Poblenou because I'd gone south instead of north.

And then I got creeped on in the Parc de la Ciutadella at the end of a very long day by a guy who decided he was going to speak to me in Catalan when I admitted to speaking the language...and not leaving me alone when I insisted I could find my way back on my own (I guess I should really create a story for myself in case this happens again).  When my feet killed me the next day, I braved the pain and headed off to Terrassa for the second time.

I'm convinced nothing can go wrong for me there that can ruin my experience.

Go ahead, try it.

I could probably get robbed at the Urquinaona metro stop or in the Raval and I will still come out and say "Well, at least I got robbed in Barcelona!" and then when I finally get replacement crap, I'll always remember that I got that replacement crap because I got robbed in Barcelona, and will be okay with it.

That doesn't mean I'm actually going to try to get myself robbed there, though.  I've only been to Urquinaona twice and I was on the metro car the entire time; never entered the station.  Never been to the Raval either.  I also tend to avoid the touristy areas like the plague, unless it's the Passeig de Gràcia and Plaça Catalunya.  Like when I ran into the Plan Internacional guys in front of the Fnac Triangle who seemed shocked when they found out I spoke Spanish.

Good times.

Terrassa Mix

Another mix, this one revolves around the Catalan city of Terrassa.  Just north of Barcelona, it's 45 minutes by FGC, accessible from downtown BCN, and definitely worth a visit.  At least I think so, though I'm primarily fascinated with it for language and cultural reasons, since there isn't much intrinsically touristic about it.  I'll probably talk about it more in another post.

The songs on this mix are pretty low-key and relaxed, having more of an acoustic or laid-back feel to them. They're definitely not the upbeat frenetic tracks features in the previous mix I posted.  R.E.M. dominates the mix, though most of the music is Spanish indie, with Catalan indie band Love of Lesbian dominating.  These songs just "feel" Terrassa to me, as they feature a music style that really feels inherent to the city.  I also use this mix as a rainy day playlist because the music has an almost melancholic sound without being outright depressing.

Plaza de España, Sevilla, December 30, 2007