Funky Barcelona, Part Two: The Sunny City

You bet your ass I took some time to soak up some glorious sun in while in Barcelona. I came back to some very jealous Londoners who scathed, "You have a tan!"

Be jealous, Londoners.

One thing I really enjoyed about Barcelona was wandering down an alley way and "bumping" into a huge cathedral or a bustling market. Lots of surprises were tucked away behind secret passage ways and maze-like corners.  

And, if you walk far enough, you eventually walk into the Mediterranean. That's a mighty nice surprise...

I hear the above building is, like, famous or something? La Sagrada Familia? Yeah, something like that.

 Forget the fame...it's absolutely gorgeous, playful and full of joyous light inside. This is definitely a change from the usual foreboding architecture found in most cathedrals. 

And even more Gaudi...

 ...who was an architect who embraced the natural. I was entranced by his unusual, hypnotic, gravity-defying designs. 

 Hello Barcelona!!

Hello SUN!

And I still have more to share on Barcelona! Until the next post...

*the first picture is courtesy of Emily

Funky Barcelona, Part One: The Nightlife

Ahhh, Barcelona. Another place to happily add to my 'favorites' list. Barcelona is unusual and beautiful all in one go. The weird sculptures and regal buildings juxtaposed against the Mediterranean Sea really give the city some spunk. Add in some Gaudi, and you've got one funky city!

I thought I would I would break up these travel posts differently this time. The first post is on my experience with the nightlife in Barcelona. Dare I say it? Can you take me to...Funkytown?

Before I continue with my oh-so-expert opinions on the nightlife, I can't go further without writing a big THANK YOU to Emily. Homegirl let me stay at her place and took me to the best restaurants and sites BCN had to offer. It was a weekend of "burnt garlic, absinthe and self-deprication." Was that the phrase, Em? Miss Emily and I are also in talks of creating the next best seller in the novel world: sexy leprechauns.  

Ahem. 

Onto nightlife...

Emily's friend Barbie affectionately described the above mascot for a bar as "half-pig, half-penis." 

First off, when going out in Barcelona one should note that this city parties late. Dinner started at nine, and subsequent festivities can stretch far into the night...er...morning. 

Ready to go out in (my claim to fame) Emily's red coat! Thanks for letting me borrow your baby!

Tapas were in order! This is an assortment of grilled chile, bready, meaty goodness! 

Happily stuffing my face. 

After tapas, I begged Emily to take me to the abinsthe bar. Especially after she informed me that Ernest Hemingway used to frequent this place. I'm a sucker for that stuff! The bar is called Marsella, and it's well worth a go. 

I'm pretty certain the place hasn't been dusted, cleaned or renovated since Ernest was there...but that only made me love it more! Oh, and if you want to look hipper than the other people, don't set your sugar on fire as apparently only "tourists" do this. I mean, I can't risk looking like a tourist, you know? 

Oh, and a verdict on the peeps in Barcelona: just lovely! 

A picture of Emily's friend Victor, who allowed me to put a celery leaf in his hair.

Besides the fact that Emily's friends were quite welcoming and charming, I noticed one extra thing about the people in this great city: they actually stay engaged in conversations without checking their phone every 5 minutes. I mean, you might see it here and there, but the epidemic hasn't spread like it has in London or the U.S., thank God! 

Barcelona has plenty of what makes a smashing evening: great eats, drinks and (engaged) conversation. 

Around London Town (Including a Blogger Meetup)

This month had been peculiar as I've been out of London almost as much as I've been in London. And if the weather cooperates (Heathrow shuts down when it snows) I'll be in Barcelona over the weekend, staying with Emily. Can't wait!

Anyway, here's what happened the days I was actually in London: 

I made Tiny the SnowMidget. Yes, he has chocolate chip eyes and buttons.

 It's been chilly around these parts!

 My 'hood. And a little glimpse of one of my flatmates. 

And then, last weekend, I had the pleasure of going to a London Blogger Meetup, organized by Rosie. 

The meet up was at BSoho in, well...Soho. A lot of bloggers turned up, and I even made some friends! Including my new Scottish friend Louise, pictured above. yay! Again, blogging makes the world better (especially because we got a discount on our yummy pizzas). 

Sex and the City, A Review

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While I was back home in December for the holidays, I decided I should probably conquer the Sex and the City monster. I had seen episodes here and there, and knew of its wild popularity, but never really knew the show personally.

The classic Carrie look. source

Let me tell you folks, Sex and the City gets real personal, real quick. How daring for a show in the 90s to portray women as sexual beings, so vividly and so in detail...I've never been more addicted to a show, aside from LOST. But the addiction does not stem from the, ahem, sex scenes. It comes from the well-crafted relationships between the girls, their lovers and everything in between. 

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda have the conversations that we all have, or at least think about, whether we are admitting it. And so, the characters become relatable and progressive at the same time. There is a sense of womanly strength radiating from the show--through the cool and daring fashion, to the sleek shots of the city to the mere thought that women can be single past 28, and by god, be happy! GASP!

Oh...and the men. I love Aidan. I love Big. I CAN'T CHOOSE. I LOVE THEM BOTH. AHHHH!

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Sex and the City will forever be one of my favorites. For its wit, for its philosophical ramblings, for its honesty and for its bravery in putting it all out there. Oh, and quite possibly the best theme song ever?

Thanks Ladies! 

Other TV Show Reviews:

Felicity
LOST
Ally McBeal

Going Through Winter in Budapest, Hungary

I'm gonna be real honest in my assessment of Budapest. It wasn't my favorite. In fact, of all the places I've been, it's my least favorite.

Now, I have to be a little fair. It's hard to judge a place when you visit it in the midst of winter. Snow, rain and slush kept me inside more often than I was outside. However, it's clear that Budapest was a once magnificent city that is now falling apart at the seams, as evidenced by the gorgeous buildings splattered with cracks and fault lines...how long before the city collapses? The underground system looks diseased and the buses look ancient and tired. You can tell a lot about a city from its infrastructure.

Now before I completely condemn this place, I know a little bit of paint and a little bit of TLC could do this city wonders. Anyway, I'll shut my trap and let you have a look. Not all was lost in Budapest, there were still some pretty sites for sore eyes:

The local spice, Paprika, which can be served sweet or spicy.

 A cool ruin bar: proof that Budapest is trying to turn their destruction into something quirky and fun.

 One of the pretty sites: a beautiful palace on the hill.

 Car...on fire? WHAT IS THIS SIGN TRYING TO SAY?!?

I feel a little bad bashing a city as a whole. I am not a holier-than-thou tourist. However, after coming back from the immaculate Switzerland and jumping into a city that is quite noticeably breaking down, I couldn't help but offer the truth. Every place is worth one visit, but I won't come back here again. 

The Problem With Being a Home Collector

I've had a few moments, usually occurring on the train (prime thinking time), where I realize how much I like living in a foreign country. Things have become newly familiar, but not so familiar that I'm bored with it all.

I really like walking to the grocery store and buying my fresh produce, even having a laugh with an employee about what half and half is (they don't really carry this in England).

I like making the train last minute just as the doors are shutting, giving me a sense of validation that I am beating the system, or am athletic, or something.

I love all the stone buildings around me, everywhere I turn. It's constant beautiful architecture that makes my soul smile...and I cringe when I think of the strip malls America insists on building.

This place. It's starting to feel like home.

So where does that leave San Diego? Another home, far away but still in my heart.

So now I am a home collector. But the problem with being a home collector is you are always missing someone or something or somewhere. Sometimes I wish I could merge the cities together, but even if that were possible, it would fail miserably. Putting an ocean by London would change its cool dark aesthetic and urban feel. Placing a bunch of stone buildings in Cali would put a damper on its sunny disposition.

And so I love both, separately. And when the time comes to choose one, the once clear choice has become a bit cloudy. Maybe I'll know better when that time comes.