traveling to barcelona with boys in my head.

This title is very misleading, since I never have boys in my head. Like, ever.

But this time, it was true. I was in Barcelona, walking through unfamiliar streets, while talking to my boy best friends on my AirPods. So, technically, they were really in my head.

It was all a bit funny. My flight was delayed when I landed (also when I went back, but let’s skip that part). 

I had very limited time in Barcelona, and still, I spent 2.5 hours sitting in the plane on the Vienna runway. (FYI: Vienna to Barcelona is only a 2-hour flight.)

Eventually, my phone was not very satisfied with this choice, since I drained my battery during that wait. By the time I landed, I was low on charge and high on bad decisions. “Maybe I should buy a power bank,” I told myself, far too late.

So I went out after leaving my luggage at the hotel. It was around midnight, I didn’t know where to go or what to do. No destination, no plan. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t take pictures during the night, not with the Portra 160 loaded in my camera.

What did I do, you may ask. I did the most basic b1tch thing possible in Barcelona: I went to see the Sagrada Familia. And honestly? I think Stephansdom is bigger. Or maybe I love Vienna so much, I’m not so sure in this context.

Something else happened, but I won’t be telling you that just yet. When my phone was about to die, I was still on the call with the boys, and I asked them to guide me to the bus station. The conversation went like this:

My friend: OK, so there’s a bus and a subway station at one of the corners of Sagrada Familia.

Me: You know that rectangles have 4 corners, right? Which one?

My friend: I think it’s near the “Five Guys”.

Me: Ah yes, you mean the true tourist attraction of Barcelona.

And he helped me to find my way. Then what happened? My 72h tourist card didn’t work, it was a N0 bus and the driver wasn’t interested in helping. It was funny, since I tried so hard not to take a taxi and it still didn’t work. Sometimes things… won’t work out.

I wandered around with a dying phone, hunting this N0 bus station, and at the end my card wasn’t accepted. Like most times in my life, I carried on, realised that being stubborn wasn’t helping, took a taxi and went back to the hotel.

The rest of the trip was a whirlwind: wandering the streets, taking photos differently than I usually do, day drinking Sangrias under the collapsing sun, eating paella to heal my soul, walking along the coast, feeling the sea, remembering just how much I missed it. I know I was at the Adriatic Sea just two weeks ago, but this time it was the Mediterranean Sea: it was the same wind that carried me in Turkey. It was the same salty smell coming from the sea.

And you know, since most of the “photographers” are observers (and creeps, but this is for another topic), I observed the people of Barcelona. They were mainly friendly and kind. Effortlessly cool. Like, very cool. Authentically cool, in an unbothered way, I would say. It felt great to smile at strangers who were smiling back to me, which I didn’t experience for a long time.

They were passionate, too. I was on the subway when my friend asked about the people of Barcelona. When I was about to answer him, I saw a very sexy lady, licking her man’s cheek and then inserting her tongue into him. So I answered: “Well… they are passionate for sure.”

Since I had very short time, I let Barcelona swallow me whole. That’s why I wanted to be out for a long time. I really missed the cities that live at night.

This trip led to something that I never expected. Apparently, my little “solo” trip encouraged someone else, someone shy and hesitant to try the same. I never met this person, but the person between us told them my story and they were… moved. I felt proud of myself. 

This short trip shifted something in me. I realised something very important about myself: something I’d known deep down but hadn’t fully faced. May it be something I’ll make peace with, eventually.

Funny thing is: even though Barcelona was a sweet escape, I missed Vienna so much. I am missing Istanbul with every cell of my body, thankfully she’s my next stop.

Factual data: 29 cigarettes smoked, 65 km walked. My colleague said it was like doing half marathon every day. My friend said that she didn’t believe I’d walked that much, since I want to sleep all the time. What can I say? The Spanish lullaby did help.