Home Alone 4: Lost in Barcelona
Let me come right out and say that I have a very good sense of direction. Generally, I know where I am and what direction I'm facing at any given time, even when using the subway. London has to be the most confusing city I have ever navigated, and to be honest, I still handled that pretty well; I never got lost and I always managed to find the place I was looking for with minimal effort.
Maybe I should start at the beginning of story. Tonight was a great night of fun and games, quite literally. I met Chris at 1 to go to the Picasso museum with his class. Then we went to lunch with about 5 other people (most of the conversation was in Spanish and while I understood all of it, I'm simply incapable of participating). Afterwards I attended a law class with Chris at the university and then we went to sit in on Evra's English class. Out of 7 levels, they're at level 6! I was so impressed... hardly. Evra's English is fantastic and I assumed rather incorrectly that the rest of the class would be at the same level of understanding. Boy was I wrong.
Anyway, we had a good time in the class and the teacher invited us back for next Thursday's session so that we might bring in some cultural aspects to the program, otherwise everything they do is out of a textbook and boring, to say the least. After class Daniel, Chris and I decided we would go to the Casino as neither I nor Chris had ever been to one, and Daniel had won just over 300 euros playing Black Jack in the last two days. I didn't exactly plan on playing, can't really afford to blow that money, but I thought I'd watch. I stood behind the two of them for three hours while they went up and down in their earnings. 3 hours and 250 Euro later, we're outside taking pictures of ourselves, trying to find a cheap and quick place to eat.
Fast forward again because I haven't even gotten to the main part of my story and already this is getting kind of long, and it's really late, even for Barcelona. It's 12:30 and I decide to call it a night. Daniel really wants to go to a club but Chris and I would rather go another time. We're at the port all the way on the East side of Barcelona, on the sea, and I have to get all the way to the West side in the hills. Unfortunately, the metro is closed for the evening and cab fairs triple after 10pm, so that's out. I decided I would take to the streets on my own two feet.
I walked for about 40 minutes passing a few metro stations I knew were along the normal route. I checked my map 2 or 3 times to be sure I was on the right track. Finally I get to the metro stop that is one before the station I need and the road I'm on turns to the right. I follow it around, and when it turns back, it's not the same road. The road I need is literally 150ft above my head, and I have no idea how to get there. So I continue to travel along the road I'm on, keeping the road I need in site, and the road I'm walking on winds farther and farther away from where I need to go. Finally, I find a side street and make my way back up the hill to the station I was looking for, by this time it's 1:40, and believe me, there is no one out in this part of town. Street lights are few and far between, and people are all traveling alone, or sitting on the sidewalks watching passersby.
As I approach the metro station to start my usual route from there back to the apartment, I realize that this was not the station I was looking for. I look at the map, I look at the station and I double check everything, all the names and locations line up, but apparently I'm not at the right elevation. I have to climb another 150 to 200ft to the next exit of the station and, again, I have no idea how to get there. All I see is a flat wall all alongside the road with no steps going up. I wandered for another hour, through poorly lit side-streets, looking over my shoulder every 5 or 6 steps and nearly soiling myself at the sound of a plastic bag skidding across the sidewalk as it's carried by the wind. I finally get to the top of the hill and have an opportunity to reorientate myself. I can't figure anything out. I check my map again, look at the station name, look at the surrounding land marks and I realize that I am completely lost. It's now about 3am, I've been wandering for just under 3 hours and I really have to use a toilet. In my destress I look across the valley and low and behold, I'm on the wrong hill.
I don't know what it was, or how it happened, but for some reason I've always had a different perspective of where the apartment was. And of course, at 3 o'clock one morning is when I have to set myself straight, the hard way. And what did I learn from this experience? Always take a cab in a country where you don't know how to ask for directions.
Maybe I should start at the beginning of story. Tonight was a great night of fun and games, quite literally. I met Chris at 1 to go to the Picasso museum with his class. Then we went to lunch with about 5 other people (most of the conversation was in Spanish and while I understood all of it, I'm simply incapable of participating). Afterwards I attended a law class with Chris at the university and then we went to sit in on Evra's English class. Out of 7 levels, they're at level 6! I was so impressed... hardly. Evra's English is fantastic and I assumed rather incorrectly that the rest of the class would be at the same level of understanding. Boy was I wrong.
Anyway, we had a good time in the class and the teacher invited us back for next Thursday's session so that we might bring in some cultural aspects to the program, otherwise everything they do is out of a textbook and boring, to say the least. After class Daniel, Chris and I decided we would go to the Casino as neither I nor Chris had ever been to one, and Daniel had won just over 300 euros playing Black Jack in the last two days. I didn't exactly plan on playing, can't really afford to blow that money, but I thought I'd watch. I stood behind the two of them for three hours while they went up and down in their earnings. 3 hours and 250 Euro later, we're outside taking pictures of ourselves, trying to find a cheap and quick place to eat.
Fast forward again because I haven't even gotten to the main part of my story and already this is getting kind of long, and it's really late, even for Barcelona. It's 12:30 and I decide to call it a night. Daniel really wants to go to a club but Chris and I would rather go another time. We're at the port all the way on the East side of Barcelona, on the sea, and I have to get all the way to the West side in the hills. Unfortunately, the metro is closed for the evening and cab fairs triple after 10pm, so that's out. I decided I would take to the streets on my own two feet.
I walked for about 40 minutes passing a few metro stations I knew were along the normal route. I checked my map 2 or 3 times to be sure I was on the right track. Finally I get to the metro stop that is one before the station I need and the road I'm on turns to the right. I follow it around, and when it turns back, it's not the same road. The road I need is literally 150ft above my head, and I have no idea how to get there. So I continue to travel along the road I'm on, keeping the road I need in site, and the road I'm walking on winds farther and farther away from where I need to go. Finally, I find a side street and make my way back up the hill to the station I was looking for, by this time it's 1:40, and believe me, there is no one out in this part of town. Street lights are few and far between, and people are all traveling alone, or sitting on the sidewalks watching passersby.
As I approach the metro station to start my usual route from there back to the apartment, I realize that this was not the station I was looking for. I look at the map, I look at the station and I double check everything, all the names and locations line up, but apparently I'm not at the right elevation. I have to climb another 150 to 200ft to the next exit of the station and, again, I have no idea how to get there. All I see is a flat wall all alongside the road with no steps going up. I wandered for another hour, through poorly lit side-streets, looking over my shoulder every 5 or 6 steps and nearly soiling myself at the sound of a plastic bag skidding across the sidewalk as it's carried by the wind. I finally get to the top of the hill and have an opportunity to reorientate myself. I can't figure anything out. I check my map again, look at the station name, look at the surrounding land marks and I realize that I am completely lost. It's now about 3am, I've been wandering for just under 3 hours and I really have to use a toilet. In my destress I look across the valley and low and behold, I'm on the wrong hill.
I don't know what it was, or how it happened, but for some reason I've always had a different perspective of where the apartment was. And of course, at 3 o'clock one morning is when I have to set myself straight, the hard way. And what did I learn from this experience? Always take a cab in a country where you don't know how to ask for directions.
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