Barcelona

So my mom bought a lot of Rick Steves books for our trip and Rick Steves is pretty gung ho about "acting like a local" and "not taking guided tours."  My mom and I disagree.  Barcelona was our first European experience off the ship and let me tell you, we sure did miss that ship.

After our last breakfast on our home away from home, it was finally time to depart.  We requested the latest departure time and the place was like a ghost town by the time we left it.  Clearly, we were not quite ready to say goodbye.  Walking off the cruise, there was a luggage lady who was offering to take people's luggage and deliver it to them later in the day.  We double (more like quadruple) checked with her that there was a luggage check at the train station that we'd be leaving from later that day.  Of course there wasn't; everyone had been telling us about the other train station in Barcelona.  Before we knew it, we were handing our luggage (4 months worth of clothes for my semester in Copenhagen) to a complete stranger with the hopes that we would one day see it again.  Look out Europe, we were officially on our own!

Once free of all our baggage constraints, we decided to walk into the city.  The baggage lady told us to walk about 100 meters then go up the bridge.  About 800 meters later, a cab driver came up to us screaming that the exit was the other way.  He quickly realized that we were clueless tourists and tried to capitalize on this by trying to get us to pay for a personalized two hour tour of Barcelona from his cab.  His selling point was that doing it on our own would take at least seven hours.  Unfortunately for him, we had a solid nine hours to kill before our train left.  After finally getting rid of him, we did a 180, walked back 700 meters and finally found the bridge to the city.  Look out Europe, we were officially on our own!

Thanks to that eventful morning, we decided that we wanted nothing more than to do something that would probably make Rick Steves cry: ride a double decker tour bus around the city like the complete tourists that we were.  We rode that bus like it was our job.

Sorry, Rick.

We spent the entire day on the top of that bus with our little headphones on, getting off only once at the Sagrada Familia church.  The line was incredibly long, but we had nothing else planned for the day so we decided to wait it out.  And waiting for us at the end of that line was the most beautiful church that I have ever seen.

Antoni Gaudi began designing the church in 1883 and they are hoping to finish construction for the 100th anniversary of his death in 2026.  My mom and I are already making plans to go back to see the finished product.

Too big to even fit in a picture.

Beautiful stained glass and incredibly tall columns filled the inside of this church.  Gaudi found his inspiration in nature and it's definitely noticeable in this building.

Not bad for a work in progress.

Before we knew it, our first stressful day alone in Europe was coming to an end.  It was time to find our way to the train station and cross our fingers that our baggage would find its way back to us.  Luckily, after about ten minutes of my mom pacing and re-reading her luggage receipt, it did and we were safely reunited with all of our bags with 1.5 hours until our train left.

Don't get me started on the train.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words so here goes...

Within a span of 12 hours we went from this...

...to this.  Yes, we slept in that room together.

Then we went to get our dinner that was included with our train ticket.  We were incredibly thirsty from being outside all day so we asked our little Spanish waiter if he would please bring us some water as soon as he could.  A solid twenty minutes later, after everyone else had been served, we got our water.  Wine was also included.  That conversation went something like this:
Mom: I'll have a glass of white wine please.
Waiter: Red wine?
Mom: No, white please.
Waiter: Red wine.
Then he actually poured her a little taste of the red wine so she could taste it before he poured out a glass.  Because clearly this train, with its collapsable bunk beds and expired-fruit-for-dessert, had wine good enough to warrant a taste test.  But these are the stories that we remember and will laugh about one day.  Clearly, for me that day is already here.