Spain – August 2021

Whenever I find myself between jobs, I try to allocate some time to travel or at least a short holiday. This summer it happens to be 6 weeks of blissful summer vacations. And I am going to make the most of it. The plan is to travel around the Iberian Peninsula by public transport, starting in Barcelona. My brother is surprised when he hears that I’ve never been to Europeans notorious party capital – and so am I when I learn that my friend Gina hasn’t been either. She spontaneously decides to join me for the beginning of my trip, and we book a cute hostel close to the city center.

As I arrive a couple nights earlier than Gina, I book myself another place for the first nights. The guesthouse seems to be quite new. Or at least most of the staff working there is. They make up about half of the guests staying and mostly speak Arabic among themselves. I drop off my backpack and then head out to the close by Sagrada Familia for a bit of sightseeing. Immediately like the vibe of the city with its wide streets and generous pedestrian ways. Hiding from the summer heat in the shadow of the trees I walk back to the hostel where I relax for a bit before exploring the neighbourhood again to find a good dinner spot.

More than full from eating a whole bowl of delicious Katsudon, I am ready for bed and so are half of my dorm mates. However, there are two problems. The first is a French-speaking guy talking on the phone and listening to loud music. Fortunately, my upstairs neighbor is more upset by that than me and successfully tells the guy to use some headphones. The second issue is the incredibly high room temperature. There is no fan and hardly any fresh air coming in through the window. I struggle to fall to sleep and when I finally do, my upstairs neighbor wakes me by moving loudly and flooding the room with light when leaving at the break of dawn.

I am glad to be changing hostels after a day of exploring the medieval town of Girona. The place Gina and I have selected is only a short walk away from where I stayed the previous night, so I walk there. It has a big terrace facing a courtyard which sports some seating areas, a hammock, and a washing line. I share the room with three other people – 2 guys, one from France and one from the Netherlands, as well as a Polish girl. I enjoy being able to practice all the languages I know with them, but still decide to head out for dinner by myself – it’s Taco time!

After yet another mostly sleepless night due to the enormous heat, I spend the day on the terrace. So does the French guy running around in his underpants because he postponed washing day for as long as possible. I catch up on some writing and video chat with my friend Melanie from the US who’s currently on holiday in Mexico. Then follows a short chat in the hallway with John from Ireland. He’s your typical middle-aged hostel guest, well-traveled and always ready to tell you his life story (even if you didn’t ask). In the evening I head out for dinner – but making sure to be back on time for Gina’s arrival later that night.

I pick her up from the metro station and despite the strict curfew we manage to sneak out on the Terrace with a couple of beers. I fortunately got the receptionist to switch on the air-con in our room and the air is pleasantly cool when we head to bed. The next day we spend at the beach, returning at around 7pm for a quick shower before getting ready for dinner. But first, we want to have a beer on the terrace, and so we join John, Arian, and Giovanni who are already having a conversation going. Talking about God and the world, the hours pass and only at around 9pm do the two of us and Arian finally head to the Barrio Gotico to try a restaurant recommended by a friend of Gina’s. Unfortunately, that night we are not allowed to enjoy our nightcap on the hostel terrace, but at least the air-con is still running when we go to bed.

Gina and I start the next day long after all the other guests have left our room. First, we have some breakfast at a hip restaurant and then head to Las Ramblas. After strolling through a huge market, we decide to take a break at a cute restaurant hidden away in a courtyard. One thing leads to another, and we stay there for 8 hours drinking beer and Sangría. Realizing the extent of our binge, we rush to the port where we secure the last table at a fancy restaurant. Slowly sobering up over dinner, we then return to our hostel and are met by the owner of the place. He’s in a talkative mood and I chat with him and the night porter about our respective travels in Latin America until 3am.