Adéu

Tonight is my last night in Barcelona. I leave early tomorrow; my taxi comes at 8AM. I spent my last day as I normally would: Rising late, strolling in the 73 degree sun, napping, spending my last euros at Zara, overindulging in an undeserved seafood dinner, and of course, in true Barcelona form, sleeping way past my bedtime.

"I have learned how to live.

How to be in the world and of the world and not just to stand aside and watch.

And I will never, never again run away from life."

Will complete my last few updates, most likely bored, from 12 Ginnie Lane.

La Barceloneta

Didn't even realize it was almost 9pm; the sun never stops shining.

"I want to step out down the Champs-Élysées..."

Oh, Paris...

A clear day

The Lourve

Parisian in the Park

 How I got my news of the historic weekend...

Giverny, where Monet spent his later years

Aspiring artist at the Musée Rodin

Sunny afternoon in Montmarte

Mom feeling the love

Charming

My late birthday meal at Chez Julien

En Casa

Settling back, with a handful of friends States-bound and an uncharacteristically empty apartment, it's time to crack open the books for finals. If you didn't realize I am taking a 'full' course load here, neither did I. Since this past month has been non-stop, and most of you reading know that ultimately I'd rather be painting my nails and watching a sitcom on NBC, I've been enjoying my indoor escape this week. After a break to retrieve my never-drying laundry, I realized how much my room has become my home away from home.

Speaking of home, tomorrow I meet los padres in Paris. Au revoir!

Italia i San Marino

What was supposed to be a quaint, solo 10 day Semana Santa ended up being quite the opposite, with old friends and new friends joining me as I went. Few plans, no hostels booked, and a one way ticket to Venice didn't deter Megan from coming... even though we ended up sleeping in a single room in a bed smaller than a twin, which was even harder to fit on after our first day's consumption of a 24" pizza, two bottles of wine, pizza numero due, black ink spaghetti, and two gelatos each. Someone introduce me to some vegetables, please.


Venice
Inevitably touristy, the crowded multilingual, camera flashing crowd almost adds to the city's charm, making quieter, deserted streets that much more remarkable. There's something special about being with thousands of other visitors in a city that's doomed to the sea.
With the absence of any form of transportation aside from boat, Venice is inherently unique. In place of motors and blaring horns is a constant lull of conversation and occasional bellowing laughs. In Barcelona, New York, Rome, you'll never hear the clinking of glasses, a cat's meow, or the crunch of a gelato cone.

San Marino & Rimini
If you meet a native of Italy, hold on to them and never let go. Three days of full [FULL] homecooked Italian meals, no real obligation to sight see, and a relaxing time with friends filled with movies, bad music, driving around, and brushing up on my Italian.

Florence
After some emotional see-you-laters, it was off to meet old friends. Maybe it was the pizza, the weather, or the gelato, but I already can't wait to return. Highlight: As per a fellow blogger friend's restaurant request, Marco and I split the Steak Fiorentina for two after a tiresome day of biking through the Tuscan hills. The rarest steak I won't soon have again. If only I hadn't forgotten my camera to document all 30 ounces.

Now for the photo overload:

Neglected my camera a bit too much, thus a generic shot of the sinking city

While Tommy prepares breakfast...

Rock walkin' in Rimini

Personal tour guide & castle

While Tommy prepares dinner...

I don't hate it!

Pizza and lemons. I spy Ross!

Green shutters of Siena

Marco's pink laces and locks of love

After a stop in Pisa, the only thing that came back to Barcelona thinner was my wallet.

The Circus at Ciutadella Park

Spring is when the crazies come out...

 

In this gem of a city, Parc de la Ciutadella is where dreaded mullets and corporate crew cuts come together to enjoy Sunday afternoons-- acrobating, running, tree-climbing, boating, napping, cartwheeling, footballing, you name it. While local hangouts are hard to unearth and tourist attractions obstruct afternoon strolls, the park is a perfect marriage of the most local locals and most pickpocket-worthy tourists. Lovers sharing a joint, school children sweating through their uniforms, nosy pigeons poking at your spillings from Bo de Bi's, and kites flying high over the cranes of Sagrada Familia are some of what make up the ambiance of the crowded grassy hills.

When the men with plastic bags selling beer for a euro ["Cerveza, agua, beer. Cerveza, agua, beer."] start getting hard to ignore, walk a few blocks to Barceloneta and pick up a 3€ bottle of cava rosada, Catalunya's inexpensive version of champagne, at the bustling La Xampanyeria. Uncork and enjoy-- the acrobats become even more entertaining.

Leave the iPod at home-- the WiFi will be too tempting-- and listen, enjoy, and breathe in the Barcelona circus.

"Jagged Mountain"

Didn't know what we were in for when we started our hike up Montserrat, a sacred mountain on the outskirts of Barca, but the hard work was well worth the views... and the reminder of what exercising feels like -__-

 A four-course meal at the Pasta Bar [Carrer dels Escudellers 49] to end the day [and start the night!]