Barcelona. Day One

by HelluvaGirl

I always knew I’d love Barcelona.

I mean I’m a fan of cinema, and what the spectacularly-directed sights of the city in Vicky Christina Barcelona didn’t do, Javier Bardem did. And the spicy yet paradoxically idealistic although too real ménage à trois. And Christina’s phrase at the end, on the escalator:

 I don’t know what I want.

Anyway, I digress. 

We took the front seats on Aerobus so we could enjoy all the sights passing by on our way to an Airbnb crib located basically in the backyard of the Barcelona Cathedral (the Roman Murals on my right don’t hurt either as I sit and write on my balcony).

What I didn’t expect and what hit me hard was the old city architecture.

Pia, this building right there looks very much as the ones I’ve seen in Milan.

And then there were streets like in Milan, and many more buildings, and I realised the place and time which seemed like a thousand years away was suddenly all around me. I couldn’t endure it for seven days, no way.

But then we hopped off and followed Here map to the apartment. Amazing location. The hostess, Maria Eulalia, was much older than I expected and she spoke poor English, which I already knew from our emailing, but she was lovely like a grandma and the place looked even better than the pictures. A huge Spanish old town apartment with ghosts – can you expect anything better?!

Oh, and speaking of people: the Aerobus driver was handsome, a random policeman in his car was handsome, and when I saw another guest entering the flat… I thought, de puta madre, I’m staying!

Pia is a great reverse wingman, though. That night, whenever I’d see a couple of eyes widening with intention somewhere on the street, Pia would run to me, I’d hug her and giggle inside: not your lucky day, pal.

This trip is not about that.

We went to a tapas place full of locals – I always try to get into those. We sat at the street table gobbling up our food and I said:

There is something I wanted to tell you, Pia, and I hope you don’t get mad.

A shadow of strict suspicion crossed her face.

I started smoking. I didn’t want to lie to you so I decided to tell. Are you angry with me?

She reacted like an adult. Smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said:

I’m not mad, but…

…but you’re acting stupid and inconsistent with what you’ve preached, mum. That’s what her face told me. I was relieved anyway. No more lying.

As I smoked on the balcony before bed, the night lights and noises mesmerising, I texted someone who’s been pleasantly revisiting my thoughts lately, saying I probably wouldn’t be in Vilnius by the end of the month as agreed 🙂 All this was just too good…

We shall see, though.

For visual impressions, please visit my Instagram account @krislaurin.