Well here we are—officially back in Segovia. This will be my most up-to-date blog entry as I’m writing it before class instead of the night before.
Sunday, I was supposed to wake everyone up to watch the sunrise over the Mediterranean but instead, we decided that sleep was a better idea since we had a rather large day ahead of us. After a quick breakfast of more cereal and OJ, the boys went to the beach and the girls went out for more touring and sightseeing. Los tres toros on the beach was one of the highlights of my trip thus far. There wasn’t too much we did—save swim in the sea, bake in the sun, and admire the beauty that Barcelona has to offer—that last part may or may not have involved us scoping out scantily clad Spanish women while floating out in the sea for nearly 4 hours. It was definitely a nice bonding time for the toros and we all had a great time.
Eventually we headed back to the hostel, changed into some normal clothes, and headed off to the Harley Shop in Barcelona to get my Mom a shirt that she’d been bugging me for. We took the metro and walked well over a mile to arrive at a closed shop. Barcelona had been perfection right up until then, but like a stereotypical small town in Spain (even though Barcelona is not small), most of the shops were closed on Sunday and during comida and siesta times. I was bitter, don’t get me wrong. I felt like I had wasted my time and my friends’ time to walk to a store that was closed. But it was worth it. We saw more parts of Barcelona and enjoyed the time that we had. I don’t even think I would have had enough money to pay for the shirt and get back to Segovia as I’ve not had much money this entire trip and I still have a long weekend and another short weekend to plan.
On the way back to our hostel to meet up with the chicas, we chatted more about the idea of going to the Canary Islands for a short weekend or perhaps going to Ibiza, the party capital of the world. I’m going to be doing some checking up on prices today and tomorrow and see what the best deal would be. The girls were waiting for us, using the Internet with the Catalonian keyboard, which differs even from a European or Castilian keyboard. We boys had not eaten yet and so we once again visited Telepizza because it was a killer deal for two pizzas. We ate our fair-share and then grabbed all of our belongings and headed to the bus station to sit and watch the World Cup Final.
A little bit about the World Cup—The World Cup is hosted by FIFA which is the soccer league here in Europe. 63 games in a period of 31 days were played. Each country participating had one team that was comprised of players from their club teams (i.e. FC Barcelona and Real Madrid players). Another exciting fact is that Spain has never been to the World Cup Finals and yesterday they were. We sat and watched them play against the Netherlands who I have a stronger disliking for now after watching the very “foul” game. It seemed the Netherlands were playing for desperation and blood because every two minutes the ref would pull out a red or yellow card for one side or another. I think there was more drama on the TV soccer game last night than there has been in an entire season of “As The World Turns.” Eventually we had to get onto our bus and head back to Segovia—unfortunately leaving us clueless as to who was playing what kind of game. Thankfully, Alex Miller figured out that we could plug our headphones into the bus seats and get the radio, which was broadcasting—you guessed it—the World Cup Finale. With only minutes to spare neither team had scored yet. Every time it sounded as if they were the announcers would get really excited and then die down. It finally changed when Spain sank the first and only goal of the game—winning the World Cup Finale and being deemed “The Best Soccer Team in the World.” We all cheered at 11:30pm on the bus and listened in for a little bit more. Afterward, I returned to writing on my novel “Resonance” trying to knock some of it out of the way while here in Spain.
Fatigue finally consumed me and in a much more comfortable manner than on the first bus ride, I fell asleep on the bus—being awoken multiple times for pit stops. We arrived at Madrid—hopped on a bus—and now I’m lying on the bed here at Maricarmen’s apartment (my house for July). Alex Miller is taking a small and advantageous nap that will no doubt help him get through 3 dry hours of linguistics and culture.
Barcelona has been my favorite city thus far in Spain—I’m hopping to top that off in the weeks to come. I guess we shall see.
-Dale
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