I spent my last day in Girona today. Girona (pronounced with a "J" sound) is a smaller town north of Barcelona. It has a small, walled medieval town, which is where my hostel is located. When I saw the beautiful place, I thought, "I get to stay here? And for only 17€ a night?!"
Alberg-Residencia Cerverí is a youth hostel\de facto dorm for students of the University of Girona, just a few blocks away. Living in the room I´m in for three nights is a girl from the university who comes from a small town--muy pequeñito--without a university. We met for long enough to have a conversation this morning when I came back to the hostel to exchange my fleece for a sweater (it´s getting chilly here!). She asked what language I speak. I answered English, but I´ve been learning Spanish for three years, so the rest of our conversation was in Spanish (though, around here, they speak Catalan, which is quite different from Castilian Spanish, really, but somewhat decipherable when written). I introduced myself, and she told me her name as well, ...Leda?... I really don´t remember, I´m afraid. Anyway, I was getting ready to shake hands, but then we kissed cheeks instead! I had forgotten the traditional greeting here! She´s studying biology. She is very nice and very pretty with curly dark brown hair and an olive complection.
The facilities here in the hostel are certainly not luxurious, but they are functional. There are two bunkbeds in the room, and while they are not as comfortable as at the last hostel in Barcelona (which was furnished completely from Ikea) they have served for two good night´s sleep so far. The shower, like the sink faucets, is the kind where you push in the button and water comes out for about a minute before shutting off. It took several times to fully rinse off, but the water was warm. I had been braced for cold!
The breakfast, included in the price, is a hearty breakfast of artisan bread, meats, cheeses, tomatoes, a few cereals, and fruit juices. And of course, coffee and tea. Not bad, at all.
The nights have been quiet, and I´ve gotten the best night´s sleep here since I´ve landed in Spain.
The people are friendlier here than in Barcelona (I guess that´s a small town for you.) I´ve actually gotten several smiles!--from waiters, shopkeepers, and the gentleman whom I asked for directions. I´ve spoken in Spanish more, too. In Barcelona, I´d try to speak Spanish, but everyone insisted on English! I felt so defeated. But here, even when I ask for the English menu or museum guide, I´ve managed to converse in Spanish.
I´ll be sorry to leave tomorrow morning. It´s such a beautiful place. Back to Barcelona, and from there on to Zaragoza! That is in Castilian Spanish territory, so no more Catalan.
Until more, ¡adios!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Small town, smoke, and funiculars
Things I like: Small town feel.
Yesterday I went to the top of Montjuïc, a part of Barcelona on top of a hill. I could see all of Barcelona, spreading out for miles to mountains on three sides and the Mediterranean on the fourth. It´s a big city! And there are so many people in the center of town, speaking all languages, walking the Ramblas filled with cafes, restaurants, shops. But, when I get back to the neighborhood where my hostel is, it feels like a small town.
My first night here, the kind people at the hostel directed me to a grocery in the neighborhood and the nearest tobacco shop so I could pick up a calling card. On my walk, one of the streets was blocked off by a small, raised platform. Some ladies all dressed up in vibrant, flowered, ruffled dresses, with their hair done up. They gathered in a circle, and when the music started, danced a lovely flamenco dance. People from the neighborhood were gathered around watching. Neighbors and friends greeted each other, waving across the small audience. They kept time clapping, and when each dance ended, shouted "¡Olé!"
This relatively quiet area of Barcelona is filled with houses and apartments. Every few buildings, the ground floor hosts a small shop. I´ve seen peluquerías (hair salons), panaderías (bread shops), carnicerías (meat shops), grocerías (grocers). I´ve even seen tiny auto shops. Above these are apartments, perhaps where the shopkeepers live. Having everything mixed in together gives everything a small town, neighborly feel.
I found the tobacco shop I was looking for and bought my phone card. A little further down was a little square surrounded by some cafes and restaurants. People sat on park benches and chatted, or sipped cervezas at cafe tables. I bought a lime gelato and ate it on a bench, people-watching. I stopped at the grocery and picked up some apples and yogurt for breakfasts. As I passed by the stage on my return, the flamenco dancers had finished, and couples were dancing together to music. Older couples, and even pairs of ladies, danced the foxtrot together in the middle of the street. Talk about a blockparty!
Things I dislike: smoke.
The guidebook was right: people do smoke a lot in Europe. I had to leave the hostel´s common room last night, it was so bad. Sometimes I can even smell it coming through the window in my room at night from people out on the patio.
Things I´ve learned: funiculars.
A funicular is two cars, one at the top and one at the bottom of a hill, joined by a cable. There is one track that splits into two in the middle for the cars to pass. The one at the top pulls up the one at the bottom as it goes down.
There´s one taking you up to Montjuïc, though you have to take cable cars to get to the very top. There´s also one taking you to Mount Tibidabo, where there´s a church and an amusement park.
Yesterday I went to the top of Montjuïc, a part of Barcelona on top of a hill. I could see all of Barcelona, spreading out for miles to mountains on three sides and the Mediterranean on the fourth. It´s a big city! And there are so many people in the center of town, speaking all languages, walking the Ramblas filled with cafes, restaurants, shops. But, when I get back to the neighborhood where my hostel is, it feels like a small town.
My first night here, the kind people at the hostel directed me to a grocery in the neighborhood and the nearest tobacco shop so I could pick up a calling card. On my walk, one of the streets was blocked off by a small, raised platform. Some ladies all dressed up in vibrant, flowered, ruffled dresses, with their hair done up. They gathered in a circle, and when the music started, danced a lovely flamenco dance. People from the neighborhood were gathered around watching. Neighbors and friends greeted each other, waving across the small audience. They kept time clapping, and when each dance ended, shouted "¡Olé!"
This relatively quiet area of Barcelona is filled with houses and apartments. Every few buildings, the ground floor hosts a small shop. I´ve seen peluquerías (hair salons), panaderías (bread shops), carnicerías (meat shops), grocerías (grocers). I´ve even seen tiny auto shops. Above these are apartments, perhaps where the shopkeepers live. Having everything mixed in together gives everything a small town, neighborly feel.
I found the tobacco shop I was looking for and bought my phone card. A little further down was a little square surrounded by some cafes and restaurants. People sat on park benches and chatted, or sipped cervezas at cafe tables. I bought a lime gelato and ate it on a bench, people-watching. I stopped at the grocery and picked up some apples and yogurt for breakfasts. As I passed by the stage on my return, the flamenco dancers had finished, and couples were dancing together to music. Older couples, and even pairs of ladies, danced the foxtrot together in the middle of the street. Talk about a blockparty!
Things I dislike: smoke.
The guidebook was right: people do smoke a lot in Europe. I had to leave the hostel´s common room last night, it was so bad. Sometimes I can even smell it coming through the window in my room at night from people out on the patio.
Things I´ve learned: funiculars.
A funicular is two cars, one at the top and one at the bottom of a hill, joined by a cable. There is one track that splits into two in the middle for the cars to pass. The one at the top pulls up the one at the bottom as it goes down.
There´s one taking you up to Montjuïc, though you have to take cable cars to get to the very top. There´s also one taking you to Mount Tibidabo, where there´s a church and an amusement park.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
First Impressions From a Tired Traveler
What do I say in the fourteen minutes of computer time from my hostal? Especially when I´m trying to figure out a european keyboard?!!ç
I´ve made it to my hostal in Barcelona. I haven´t slept in...what? 27 hours? I´m ready for bed now, but in keeping with some excellent advice from my previous trip abroad, i´m trying to stay awake until a decent bedtime. i´m thinking nine pm sounds good...and that in España (that actually have a key for ñ here!!) España, the country of all night partying! My impression of Barcelona so far has been a train ride from the aeropuerto through ramshackle highrise apartment buildings, each with its rows of green awnings. They look tired and dirty, like how i feel. The region is dry and lacking in vegetation. There are mountains all around in the distance. So far nothing glamorous, but I suppose even Europe isn´t all castles and palaces and olive groves.
So far, as far as I can tell, I´ve only heard Castillian spanish, no catalan, though I´ve seen it on signs. And I´ve heard British, French, German, and a few unidentifiable languages. i´m rather surprised i havent heard more catalan, from all that i´ve read of its resurgence in the region since franco. But, perhaps I have heard it, but haven´t realized it. I suppose I´ll need to venture beyond the tourist districts to really hear it.
I´ve made it to my hostal in Barcelona. I haven´t slept in...what? 27 hours? I´m ready for bed now, but in keeping with some excellent advice from my previous trip abroad, i´m trying to stay awake until a decent bedtime. i´m thinking nine pm sounds good...and that in España (that actually have a key for ñ here!!) España, the country of all night partying! My impression of Barcelona so far has been a train ride from the aeropuerto through ramshackle highrise apartment buildings, each with its rows of green awnings. They look tired and dirty, like how i feel. The region is dry and lacking in vegetation. There are mountains all around in the distance. So far nothing glamorous, but I suppose even Europe isn´t all castles and palaces and olive groves.
So far, as far as I can tell, I´ve only heard Castillian spanish, no catalan, though I´ve seen it on signs. And I´ve heard British, French, German, and a few unidentifiable languages. i´m rather surprised i havent heard more catalan, from all that i´ve read of its resurgence in the region since franco. But, perhaps I have heard it, but haven´t realized it. I suppose I´ll need to venture beyond the tourist districts to really hear it.
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