8 hours, to be a little more precise. That's when I get on a flight and leave Barcelona for what may be quite a long time. It's been a long, amazing, life-changing summer. I have seen and experienced things incredibly and wholly new to me, things I may never see again. While I could never fully enumerate them, some of the highlights include the Eiffel tower at night, European pub crawls, late-night metro trips, cafe con leche in bars, both major Grand Slam tennis tournaments in the continent, and Catalan/Spanish culture in general. While here, I have been witness to two of Spain's greatest athletic triumphs in decades (Euro2008 and Nadal ousting Federer at Wimbledon...."PODEMOS"). I've seen incredible musical talent, both on and off stage. I've seen so much, and it seems like so little.
I have quite possibly had the summer vacation of my life, and it means that much more because it is my last. In less than two days, I resume my responsibilites in the United States, all the more acutely as I go to Jury Duty. Yeah it sucks, but with in two days of living among Europeans, I'm reminded of my true citizenship by being called to the one Constitutional duty that is given to absolutely every American citizen. In truth, there are few more direct ways to be brought "home".
All the same, there is a piece of me that will never leave here. My soul, my life, has been forever altered by the friends and experiences I've found in Europe, however fleeting they may have been. I've been blessed by God to see all that I've seen here, and will always treasure it, well beyond my deathbed.
I can't count how many things I will miss about this summer. It is, by far, the best I've had since I first left Miami to study in Atlanta. Life has thrown a fair amount of curveballs my way, and while I didn't always put the bat on the ball, I certainly swung everytime, and I wouldn't change a thing. I've waited three years for this trip, and it was perfectly timed. This place has given me the renewed energy to earn my degree from Georgia Tech and begin making a life for myself. For that reason, I plan to keep updating this blog. The link will stay the same, though the title may change. I hope you'll continue to read every once in a blue moon.
I'm ready, Life. Throw everything you've got, because I'm laying all my cards on the table. The walls are coming down, and I'm coming for you. There's no more time for screwing around, because too much of you needs to be lived.
For the record, I think that if more people talked like that, the world would be a different place entirely. So I'll leave you with one question before I resume my life as an American citizen: What gives you the courage to face each day anew? What is worth the trouble of doing more than just surving (I know that's two questions...deal with it)?
-Gaby
P.S. I finally went to Sagrada Familia. Enjoy the pictures!
7/21/08
7/14/08
a small sidetrip
I thought I'd share my pictures from my visit to Parc Montjuic on Saturday. The coolest thing about the castle there is how strategically located it is. It sits on top of a large hill near the coast, separate from the regular mountain chain surrounding the city. From there, you can see everything. It has a fantastic view of all of Barcelona and the sea. The best part is that it was free to walk around in.
In the same park you can walk down to the Olympic village, where I went to a soccer game earlier in the semester (see Dali and the Olympic Stadium). I explored more of the Olympic village, and remembered watching the Barcelona Olympics when I was six years old. I even remember the shirt I wore a lot that year, on the right here. What I remember most vividly, though, was the most badass torch-lighting in history, where the archer lit his arrow, aimed just above the torch at the end of the stadium, and let the Olympic Fire fly. I'll never forget it as long as I live.
Well, that's all for now. I may yet make it out to Sitges for a day this weekend. I'm in need of a really pretty beach, and unfortunately, Barcelona is not up to par. Also, here's a picture for everybody back home that is having serious Gaby withdrawal.
One week to go!
-Gaby
In the same park you can walk down to the Olympic village, where I went to a soccer game earlier in the semester (see Dali and the Olympic Stadium). I explored more of the Olympic village, and remembered watching the Barcelona Olympics when I was six years old. I even remember the shirt I wore a lot that year, on the right here. What I remember most vividly, though, was the most badass torch-lighting in history, where the archer lit his arrow, aimed just above the torch at the end of the stadium, and let the Olympic Fire fly. I'll never forget it as long as I live.
Well, that's all for now. I may yet make it out to Sitges for a day this weekend. I'm in need of a really pretty beach, and unfortunately, Barcelona is not up to par. Also, here's a picture for everybody back home that is having serious Gaby withdrawal.
One week to go!
7/9/08
Pamplona
As a break from homework and projects, I'm gonna tell you a little about my short trip to Pamplona.
The Fiesta de San Fermin is week-long celebration of the feast day of Saint Fermin. On the beginning day of the Festival (July 6th), the whole town gathers in front of City Hall and awaits the lighting of the Txupinazo rocket, which signals the beginning of the Fiesta. When I say the whole town, I mean it. Nic and Wooly were there, and told me that the crowd was packed so tight they were lifted off the ground the whole time. Once the rocket is in the air, everyone pops champagne and sangria bottles and sprays them over everyone else. People in the balconies toss and water, and everyone is going nuts. I arrived in town just after this and saw the aftermath of people walking away. As I walked, a garbage truck broke a champagne bottle right in front of me (thank God I saw it coming and turned away...shards bounced off my cheeks).
I met up with my cousins, who were staying with the Centurions, a St. Theresa family from back in the day. My cousins and I walked around and wound up watching people jump from the 15-foot monument into people's waiting arms on the ground, a tradition some Australians started years ago that took on a life of it's own. One girl even went up and jumped topless. They're arguably as crazy as the people that run. After that, we went back to the apartment and caught up as we watched the Wimbledon final, but it was time for the bullfight, so we all went to watch it. I won't try to describe the skill of these bullfighters who were on horseback, so I'll just let you see for yourself:
These guys are good
After the bullfight we watdhed the remainder of one of the most epic Wimbledon finals ever (PODEMOS!!). What a week for Spain: first the EuroCup champions ship, then Nadal finally beating Federer on grass for the first time. As much as I would've liked to have seen Federer try and beat Sampras' record, I'm glad that the one to dethrone him was Rafa (he also happens to be the only one who can). After that, we went out and partied all night. The streets were flooded with people all night all the way up to the running of the bulls the next morning at 8. Again, just watch in awe as I did from the balcony of the Centurions:
These guys are crazy
A piece of advice I got from many a Spaniard: don't run without having seen this live several times. After seeing it once, I think it was good advice. The turn you see at the beginning of the video is known as dead-man's curve, and, oh yeah, the streets are wet from being cleaned a few hours before. Freaking nuts. By the way, check the Fiesta's website for all the traditions and good advice you could ever want.
We spent the rest of the day sleeping/hanging out around the city until I had to board my train to get back to Barcelona. I had a blast, and I really want to go back for a few days the next chance I get. God only knows when that'll be, though.
I didn't take as many pictures as I'd like because things were a little wild on the streets, so I had to leave my camera behind most times, but the pictures I did take are below. I may or may not go to Sitges this Saturday, depending on how busy things get. I'll post any more adventures as they happen, so hopefully you'll hear from me soon!
-Gaby
The Fiesta de San Fermin is week-long celebration of the feast day of Saint Fermin. On the beginning day of the Festival (July 6th), the whole town gathers in front of City Hall and awaits the lighting of the Txupinazo rocket, which signals the beginning of the Fiesta. When I say the whole town, I mean it. Nic and Wooly were there, and told me that the crowd was packed so tight they were lifted off the ground the whole time. Once the rocket is in the air, everyone pops champagne and sangria bottles and sprays them over everyone else. People in the balconies toss and water, and everyone is going nuts. I arrived in town just after this and saw the aftermath of people walking away. As I walked, a garbage truck broke a champagne bottle right in front of me (thank God I saw it coming and turned away...shards bounced off my cheeks).
I met up with my cousins, who were staying with the Centurions, a St. Theresa family from back in the day. My cousins and I walked around and wound up watching people jump from the 15-foot monument into people's waiting arms on the ground, a tradition some Australians started years ago that took on a life of it's own. One girl even went up and jumped topless. They're arguably as crazy as the people that run. After that, we went back to the apartment and caught up as we watched the Wimbledon final, but it was time for the bullfight, so we all went to watch it. I won't try to describe the skill of these bullfighters who were on horseback, so I'll just let you see for yourself:
These guys are good
After the bullfight we watdhed the remainder of one of the most epic Wimbledon finals ever (PODEMOS!!). What a week for Spain: first the EuroCup champions ship, then Nadal finally beating Federer on grass for the first time. As much as I would've liked to have seen Federer try and beat Sampras' record, I'm glad that the one to dethrone him was Rafa (he also happens to be the only one who can). After that, we went out and partied all night. The streets were flooded with people all night all the way up to the running of the bulls the next morning at 8. Again, just watch in awe as I did from the balcony of the Centurions:
These guys are crazy
A piece of advice I got from many a Spaniard: don't run without having seen this live several times. After seeing it once, I think it was good advice. The turn you see at the beginning of the video is known as dead-man's curve, and, oh yeah, the streets are wet from being cleaned a few hours before. Freaking nuts. By the way, check the Fiesta's website for all the traditions and good advice you could ever want.
We spent the rest of the day sleeping/hanging out around the city until I had to board my train to get back to Barcelona. I had a blast, and I really want to go back for a few days the next chance I get. God only knows when that'll be, though.
I didn't take as many pictures as I'd like because things were a little wild on the streets, so I had to leave my camera behind most times, but the pictures I did take are below. I may or may not go to Sitges this Saturday, depending on how busy things get. I'll post any more adventures as they happen, so hopefully you'll hear from me soon!
-Gaby
7/8/08
Hard Rock Calling
It's long past time that I should tell you about the rest of my London trip, so here it goes...
The day after Wimbledon, the Halleys and I woke up to go see a few sights around London, so we started walking. We walked across Hyde Park over into St James Park and all the way down to Buckingham Palace. Iggy really wanted to see the Changing of the Guards, so we hung around the park until it was time. It was kinda cool to see the different guard division gather in the courtyard in front of the palace for the ceremony, but aside from the James Bond music the band played at the end, it wasn't worth waiting around as long as we did (about an hour).
After that we went looking for Abbey Road and realized we were in the wrong place entirely, so instead we went to see Westminister Abbey and Big Ben. We hung out next to Big Ben and the London Eye for a while before heading back for the concert that afternoon. We did Abbey Road the next morning, and the day after that I road the London Eye before coming home.
That concert was simply amazing. All the performers were amazing, particularly the headliners: Eric Clapton and the Police. We drank beer the whole time and laughed at other people who couldn't hold their alcohol. The only way to show describe it that I have is to show you the videos, most of which have finally been uploaded (thanks to Youtube for being incredibly slow about it lately). Without further ado, here are my videos from the Hard Rock Calling in London Hyde. Enjoy!
The day after Wimbledon, the Halleys and I woke up to go see a few sights around London, so we started walking. We walked across Hyde Park over into St James Park and all the way down to Buckingham Palace. Iggy really wanted to see the Changing of the Guards, so we hung around the park until it was time. It was kinda cool to see the different guard division gather in the courtyard in front of the palace for the ceremony, but aside from the James Bond music the band played at the end, it wasn't worth waiting around as long as we did (about an hour).
After that we went looking for Abbey Road and realized we were in the wrong place entirely, so instead we went to see Westminister Abbey and Big Ben. We hung out next to Big Ben and the London Eye for a while before heading back for the concert that afternoon. We did Abbey Road the next morning, and the day after that I road the London Eye before coming home.
That concert was simply amazing. All the performers were amazing, particularly the headliners: Eric Clapton and the Police. We drank beer the whole time and laughed at other people who couldn't hold their alcohol. The only way to show describe it that I have is to show you the videos, most of which have finally been uploaded (thanks to Youtube for being incredibly slow about it lately). Without further ado, here are my videos from the Hard Rock Calling in London Hyde. Enjoy!
7/3/08
a bribe to keep checking
I have a fair amount of work to do right now, which requires the responsible Gaby to make an appearance in Barcelona, so I can't tell you all about the concert just yet, but I will soon. Here are pictures from London and the concert to keep you coming around ;)
7/1/08
Inglaterra (y los Reyes de España)
Before I describe one of the most amazing weekends of my life, I need to say one thing: ¡VIVA ESPAÑA!!!!
'Nuff said. Now, for the record, I love Hyde Park. Every second I spent in there was truly beautiful/awesome. When I first got to London, I basically had all day before the Halleys got there, so I just hung out there the whole time. For a long while I napped there, and when I didn't want to sleep anymore, I laid down near a big pond and read my book for a long while more. Eventually I dropped my bag off in a safe place and walked around the whole park, just to explore a little. It really is beautiful. If you ever get the chance, go. Seriously.
Turns out that the Halleys' flight was delayed on the tarmac at Heathrow b/c somebody either had a hand grenade, or at least threatened that they did. Either way, it's enough to shut down the airport. They eventually got to the apartment they'd rented and we began settling in. We had dinner and showered, and then I decided it was time to go camp out for Wimbledon, or as they say it, "queue up". The British and their queues...
I get out there, get my number in line, and realize I forgot my camera. Idiot. I asked the guys ahead of me and behind me if they minded my going back for my camera. The guy in front, Steve, was so nice about it he offered to keep dry my sleeping bag (it was drizzling then). I thanked them and hurried back. Once I had the camera, I started running back to the station. As I went to turn left down the stairs, I slipped. I still had my hand on the railing and was sliding on my hip, so I just tugged on the railing and slid over the edge of the stairs, landed my feet a few steps down, and kept going. I wish I had a recording of this, because it must've looked kinda cool. Still missed the train, though.
The Queue was an experience, man. When I got back out there, I made friends with some locals (Steve and his friends) and we joked around until late at night. I only really slept for a couple of hours that night, anyways. Around 6 AM the stewards go around waking people up to pack up their tents and stuff, and around 6:45 they begin to move the Queue. They moved us forward alongside the golf course (which currently serves as a parking lot for the tournament) and begin to pass out wristbands for the show courts. The number of wristbands correspond to the number of tickets available that day for that court, so I was lucky to get one for Centre Court. There weren't many left.
I had bought tickets together with my new friends, but since it was my first time there, I decided to explore for a little while. Matches didn't start for a couple of hours anyways, so I walked around, ate, explored the grounds a bit. I hung out at court 3 with some Cricketeers I had met in the Queue. They were funny guys, and had brought their uniforms to wear in the stands. Eventually I decided it was time. I was going to take my seat in Centre Court.
Honestly, I don't know how it happened. As far as I'm concerned, it was a miracle. As I looked for my section and seat, I expected to be fairly far back somewhere (there's no upper deck). The stewards kept pointing me to lower and lower entrances, and then it happened. I stepped out into the stands, and there it was: Centre Court. Not 50 ft away from me was the Court where legends of Tennis had played. More than I could count, probably. This is where Pete Sampras won 7 years in a row. This is where Roger Federer was looking for his 6th year in a row, and I still had to walk DOWN to my 8th row seat. The whole thing gave me goosebumps, and I wished like hell my grandfather, Orestes, could've seen it with me. He's the one who was the huge tennis fan in my family. He bought our tickets to the Sony Ericsson in Miami, which we'll always keep in his name. His favorite tournament in the world was Wimbledon, and I was so close to the court I could spit on it.
About 3 games into the first match, I finally settled down to watch tennis. I was watching Federer (WOO!) play some guy everyone knew would get trounced, but it was a good match anyways. After that came Mauresmo vs Serena Williams, and then Ancic vs Ferrer. During the matches, my friends and I screwed around a little amongst ourselves while drinking some 7up mixed with an alcohol called "Pimm's". I don't really know what it is, but it's delicious. I brought back a couple of bottles with me.
Eventually it was time to call it a day. I was running on 4 hours of sleep over the last 3 days, so I thanked my new friends, bid them farewell, and headed back. I still had to sleep on the floor that night (it was a small apartment we stayed in), but it was better being indoors. I still have to tell you about the concert, which was equally amazing, but that'll be another post slightly later, possibly still tonight. In the meantime, here are pictures from Wimbledon to enjoy:
Wimbledon
-Gaby
'Nuff said. Now, for the record, I love Hyde Park. Every second I spent in there was truly beautiful/awesome. When I first got to London, I basically had all day before the Halleys got there, so I just hung out there the whole time. For a long while I napped there, and when I didn't want to sleep anymore, I laid down near a big pond and read my book for a long while more. Eventually I dropped my bag off in a safe place and walked around the whole park, just to explore a little. It really is beautiful. If you ever get the chance, go. Seriously.
Turns out that the Halleys' flight was delayed on the tarmac at Heathrow b/c somebody either had a hand grenade, or at least threatened that they did. Either way, it's enough to shut down the airport. They eventually got to the apartment they'd rented and we began settling in. We had dinner and showered, and then I decided it was time to go camp out for Wimbledon, or as they say it, "queue up". The British and their queues...
I get out there, get my number in line, and realize I forgot my camera. Idiot. I asked the guys ahead of me and behind me if they minded my going back for my camera. The guy in front, Steve, was so nice about it he offered to keep dry my sleeping bag (it was drizzling then). I thanked them and hurried back. Once I had the camera, I started running back to the station. As I went to turn left down the stairs, I slipped. I still had my hand on the railing and was sliding on my hip, so I just tugged on the railing and slid over the edge of the stairs, landed my feet a few steps down, and kept going. I wish I had a recording of this, because it must've looked kinda cool. Still missed the train, though.
The Queue was an experience, man. When I got back out there, I made friends with some locals (Steve and his friends) and we joked around until late at night. I only really slept for a couple of hours that night, anyways. Around 6 AM the stewards go around waking people up to pack up their tents and stuff, and around 6:45 they begin to move the Queue. They moved us forward alongside the golf course (which currently serves as a parking lot for the tournament) and begin to pass out wristbands for the show courts. The number of wristbands correspond to the number of tickets available that day for that court, so I was lucky to get one for Centre Court. There weren't many left.
I had bought tickets together with my new friends, but since it was my first time there, I decided to explore for a little while. Matches didn't start for a couple of hours anyways, so I walked around, ate, explored the grounds a bit. I hung out at court 3 with some Cricketeers I had met in the Queue. They were funny guys, and had brought their uniforms to wear in the stands. Eventually I decided it was time. I was going to take my seat in Centre Court.
Honestly, I don't know how it happened. As far as I'm concerned, it was a miracle. As I looked for my section and seat, I expected to be fairly far back somewhere (there's no upper deck). The stewards kept pointing me to lower and lower entrances, and then it happened. I stepped out into the stands, and there it was: Centre Court. Not 50 ft away from me was the Court where legends of Tennis had played. More than I could count, probably. This is where Pete Sampras won 7 years in a row. This is where Roger Federer was looking for his 6th year in a row, and I still had to walk DOWN to my 8th row seat. The whole thing gave me goosebumps, and I wished like hell my grandfather, Orestes, could've seen it with me. He's the one who was the huge tennis fan in my family. He bought our tickets to the Sony Ericsson in Miami, which we'll always keep in his name. His favorite tournament in the world was Wimbledon, and I was so close to the court I could spit on it.
About 3 games into the first match, I finally settled down to watch tennis. I was watching Federer (WOO!) play some guy everyone knew would get trounced, but it was a good match anyways. After that came Mauresmo vs Serena Williams, and then Ancic vs Ferrer. During the matches, my friends and I screwed around a little amongst ourselves while drinking some 7up mixed with an alcohol called "Pimm's". I don't really know what it is, but it's delicious. I brought back a couple of bottles with me.
Eventually it was time to call it a day. I was running on 4 hours of sleep over the last 3 days, so I thanked my new friends, bid them farewell, and headed back. I still had to sleep on the floor that night (it was a small apartment we stayed in), but it was better being indoors. I still have to tell you about the concert, which was equally amazing, but that'll be another post slightly later, possibly still tonight. In the meantime, here are pictures from Wimbledon to enjoy:
Wimbledon
-Gaby
6/25/08
good times/bad times
Last I left you, I had planned on going to Sevilla. Well, a sold out train made sure that didn't happen, since every other method of getting there was way more expensive, so I've stayed in Barcelona this whole time. Now, let's start with the good times.
My cousins Nic and Wooly were in town visiting family on their dad's side, but we went out together at night. Friday I took them to Ovella Negra with my friends and then Otto Zutz, where we danced until the Metro opened up again at 5. The following day, I didn't wake up until 5 PM! It's easier than it sounds when the hurricane shutter-like blinds completely darken the room. That evening I did some grocery shopping at Carrefour in the Glories mall, as well as some exploring in that mall. it is HUGE! It doesn't look big from the outside, but it just keeps going underground! I also found myself the cheapest official FCBarcelona jersey in the city.
That night I took my cousins out to La Fira, a cool bar with a big "Miami" sign in it, that also has a really cheap and good shot bar called Espit Chupitos (Chupitos meaning shots). We had a fun time there taking flaming Harry Potter's and hitting on women and then called it a night.
Sunday was just about relaxing and hanging out. On Monday, Cazzie and I went to the beach for some people watching for our class project (I wish I could claim credit for this idea, but she and our other partner, Skji, are the geniuses here). We did that for a few hours while enjoying the beach, and then that night we had a huge potluck dinner in a friends room. This was preperation for la Fiesta de Sant Joan, a celebration of the summer Solstice. What most of Spain winds up doing is lighting fireworks all over their cities and lighting bonfires all over the place, especially the beach, all night long. But see, here's where the bad times start...
During the pot luck dinner, my cold came back with a vengeance. It was to the point that I had to intentionally skip out on the all-night party. To make things worse, my lack of medicine made sure the cold kept me up all night long anyways. I could have endured the constant fireworks, but the cold was too much.
I spent the better part of the next day looking for medicine. Finally found some in the afternoon, and now I'm doing way better. Hopefully I'll be all rested up by the time I have to camp out for Wimbledon...
Well, I leave for London tomorrow, so this is the last you'll hear of me until I get back. If I find an internet connection over there, I might pop in for an update. See you in a week!
-Gaby
My cousins Nic and Wooly were in town visiting family on their dad's side, but we went out together at night. Friday I took them to Ovella Negra with my friends and then Otto Zutz, where we danced until the Metro opened up again at 5. The following day, I didn't wake up until 5 PM! It's easier than it sounds when the hurricane shutter-like blinds completely darken the room. That evening I did some grocery shopping at Carrefour in the Glories mall, as well as some exploring in that mall. it is HUGE! It doesn't look big from the outside, but it just keeps going underground! I also found myself the cheapest official FCBarcelona jersey in the city.
That night I took my cousins out to La Fira, a cool bar with a big "Miami" sign in it, that also has a really cheap and good shot bar called Espit Chupitos (Chupitos meaning shots). We had a fun time there taking flaming Harry Potter's and hitting on women and then called it a night.
Sunday was just about relaxing and hanging out. On Monday, Cazzie and I went to the beach for some people watching for our class project (I wish I could claim credit for this idea, but she and our other partner, Skji, are the geniuses here). We did that for a few hours while enjoying the beach, and then that night we had a huge potluck dinner in a friends room. This was preperation for la Fiesta de Sant Joan, a celebration of the summer Solstice. What most of Spain winds up doing is lighting fireworks all over their cities and lighting bonfires all over the place, especially the beach, all night long. But see, here's where the bad times start...
During the pot luck dinner, my cold came back with a vengeance. It was to the point that I had to intentionally skip out on the all-night party. To make things worse, my lack of medicine made sure the cold kept me up all night long anyways. I could have endured the constant fireworks, but the cold was too much.
I spent the better part of the next day looking for medicine. Finally found some in the afternoon, and now I'm doing way better. Hopefully I'll be all rested up by the time I have to camp out for Wimbledon...
Well, I leave for London tomorrow, so this is the last you'll hear of me until I get back. If I find an internet connection over there, I might pop in for an update. See you in a week!
-Gaby
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