Chapter 3 “Castles, Planes and Countdowns”

 One thing I’ve learned while traveling is that a good alarm clock is invaluable when you’re tight on time. The morning after the flamenco show, S and I headed up to the Alhambra, an hour after we had planned, due to faulty alarm lock situation.

We trekked our tired bums up to the castle as early as we could and had enough time to explore the Generalife part of the Alhambra before our bus to Malaga (and subsequent flight to Barcelona).

The Alhambra was what I’d been looking forward to for several weeks. I wish I’d had more time, but what I did see surpassed all my expectations. The walk up itself was incredibly scenic… and steep. Our exercise for the day, combined with epic views was well worth the early morning. The gardens alone were fit for a queen. Which made sense, since that’s who they were for. The view of the city is incredible. I can only imagine how beautiful it must have been before all the new buildings were built and all that you could see from the castle were the cobblestone streets and the beautiful stone buildings and red thatched roofs.

It seemed impossible to take bad pictures in that place, everything seemed like the perfect photo-op, and we definitely took advantage. Such tourists! Loved it! There were fountains everywhere and it made for an incredibly soothing space… I was feeling pretty zen. And it definitely made me have to pee. What did they do back in the day? They must have had loos around every corner. Sorry about the side note.

After our quick tour of the Alhambra, we made our way back to the hostel to pack up and catch our bus to Malaga and then onwards to Barcelona to meet S’s bf.

At this point I’m skipping over the issues we had at the damn Malaga airport and fast forwarding to when we got off the bus in Barcelona at 10:45pm on December 31^st.

Within our first 5 minutes off of the bus in Barcelona, we were marked by potential thieves. Warning to all travelers in Barcelona, if someone sprays paint on your bag and back, alarm bells should go off. Do not stop! I realized what was happening when I saw the same guy who had eyed my purse when I got off the bus down in the entrance to the metro station, trying to “help” us get the paint off our bags.

It’s weird… I’ve heard about all of these different robbing techniques, but in my previous travels, I had managed to avoid ever being in that situation. I think it’s almost hilarious that any other country I’ve been to, which could be considered “sketchy” or “dangerous” or what have you by conventional standards seems so much safer compared to this developed country.

On the plus side, nothing bad happened other than getting some paint on our bags and jeans. We made it to our hostel, met up with B, got all dolled up, grabbed our bottles of bubbly and headed out to the fiesta with time to spare before the countdown to 2011.

Arc de Triomf on NY

Instead of joining the rowdy crew on La Rambla, we opted for a bit of a quieter scene at el Arc de Triomf and brought in the New Year together. Post countdown we headed back to the heart of the beast and found a bar that still had standing room in it… just barely. It was a great scene, with tons of fun people. I randomly ended up chatting with two French guys who were moving to Quebec in one month. To all my Montreal people, look out for them, they were a riot!

S and I also celebrated Montreal New Year time zone at 6am with the frenchies soon to be turned Montrealers… countdown and everything! We must have seemed crazy, but we weren’t any crazier than all the other revelers.