Hola everyone,
One week from tomorrow I’ll be on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic. It’s hard to believe that three weeks have gone by already. I’ll be glad to go home and see my family and friends again, but it’s really hit me that I’ll probably never be in Barcelona again, and I only have one more week to take in as much as I can.
Earlier this week, I slathered myself in sunscreen and went to the beach. It was nice to be by the water again, even though it really different from the Oregon coast (i.e. it wasn’t freezing).
The Mediterranean Sea
I also visited the aquarium while I was there. There were sharks, penguins, jellyfish (my favorite!), and the most poisonous fish in the world. It wasn’t as good as the Newport aquarium, but it was still tons of fun, until I realized that Dory from Finding Nemo was being held hostage.
Free Dory!
Yesterday I went to a market in the Gothic Quarter with some of the other interns. We had a good time, and I got to explore that area again, which is one of my favorites in the city. I had chocolate and churros, a popular dessert here, and walked around the old buildings. I decided to go in the Cathedral next, but it turns out it has a dress code. The security guard took one look at my shorts and turned me away with a look of barely concealed disgust. The dress code is meant for respect, and I get that, but disgust is one expression you don’t want a guy to have when he looks at your legs, you know?
At any rate, here it is from the outside, free from the perils of exposed knees.
I think I mentioned a few posts ago how my apartment is allegedly on the third floor, but is actually on the fifth. I got sick of not knowing what the deal was and decided to look up how numbering works in Spain.
In the US, the bottom floor of a building is called the first floor. In Spain and most other countries in Europe, the bottom floor is called the ground floor, and the floor above that is called the first floor. That makes sense, but it doesn’t explain how the fifth floor becomes the third floor. Maybe the designer had a strange sense of humor or something.
Well, I hope you all have a fantastic week! I know I will!
Cicely
I’m curious as well about how the third floor becomes the fifth floor. That’s a new one to me. Years ago when I discovered the difference in floor numbering between the U.S. and Europe, it made total sense to me but the third, the fifth? Can your landlord shed any light on that?
And why do you think security guard was so open with his disgust that you didn’t know the dress code? He must encounter many tourists who make the same mistake. I wonder if Americans are more guilty of this than others?
Enjoy your final week in Barcelona. And I hope you are able to return some day. Michele
I know exactly how you feel. I can´t believe that I´m leaving in just one week– and I´ve also been dealing with livin on the ¨third¨ floor.
I still feel like there is a lot in my city that I haven´t seen yet– I can´t imagine how you must feel in a city as big and historical as Barcelona. The best you can do is try to make the most of the time you have left and enjoy being where you are as well as looking forward to getting home.
–Annelise