Whew...so much to say, so little time

This is quite long, but since I am taking a travel writing class and I am supposed to keep a journal, I figured I could combine my journal with this blog.

The trip here actually went very smoothly.  On September 1st I said good-bye to my parents at Logan airport in Boston, and boarded my flight to Heathrow in London.  I left around 6: 10 pm and arrived in London around 12 am (Boston time).  In London it was 5 am.  The flight was pretty cool and I didn't sleep at all.  I was too excited about getting to Spain.  I actually sat next to a girl and boy that were around my age, but I don't think they were as excited about life as I was...they were French.  The people on the flight were interesting, from all over Europe.  A lot of them smelled delicious...haha.  The flight attendants were really nice and said things such as, "cheerio" in their cool British accents.  When I finally arrived in London the plane drove around on the ground for fifteen minutes.  Not in circles, but straight to a destination.  Heathrow is humongous!  When we finally deplaned we had to get on a bus for ten minutes to get to the airport.  We then walked for fifteen minutes in this weird, windy, sterile hallway.  Finally we got to security and went through again.  This is the outrageous part - they do not post the gate that your flight is leaving from until about a half an hour before the plane is boarding.  Instead, they funnel all of the people into this commercial shopping area with enticing treats such as foot long chocolate bars and Coach purses.  At this point I really wanted a candy bar but alas I had no pounds, only Euros.  The nice man working at the chocolate shop would accept any currency, except pounds and dollars.  Instead I munched on my stale caramel popcorn...how did it become stale so quickly?  The commercial center also had really cool benches with signs over certain parts advertising wireless...that you had to pay for.  Is nothing free in this world??  After my flight time was posted I walked for twenty minutes in another weird glass hallway to get there.  I finally arrived in a bomb shelter that wasn't any protection from the 45 degree F weather.  These really good looking young Brits in suits were boarding the plane on the way to a business meeting in Barcelona.  I was oh so hoping I would be seated next to them, but alas, I sat next to an old Asian man.  He was actually very nice and threw my trash away for me and bowed whenever I got up for the bathroom.  He was very cute with his guide book of Barcelona, and I could tell he was as excited as me.  Unfortunately I was not as pumped as I was from Boston to London... it was 7 am and very sunny through the windows of the plane with a delay.  We finally got in the air and they offered sandwiches.  I had turkey and "cheese" aka cream cheese.  It was absolutely delicious because I was ravenous.  The coffee was also superb.  Kudos to British Airways on the food service, though my judgement may be a bit skewed, considering an hour before I was considering selling my passport for some coffee, chocolate, and a croissant (the three essential Cs).  

So, I finally arrived in Barcelona.  We flew over the Mediterranean first, than circled back and landed.  It looked so amazing from the sky.  In the airport customs (what customs?) was a breeze.  They let anyone into this country.  The guy barely looked at my passport.  I followed a red stripe on the ground to baggage, found the IES people, and proceeded to the processing room solely for IES (the program I am doing).  They couldn't find my papers anywhere, but we figured out that was due to the fact that for some reason they spelled my name Kailin Vignal.  Which explains why my RA never contacted me before my arrival.  After that was cleared up they gave me my keys and and some packets of information, and directed me to the taxi line.  My driver was very kind, but didn't speak a lick of English.  My address is interesting, Placa Joaquim Folguera 2, 3 (degrees symbol) 4a.  Very interesting.  Turns out the 2 is the apartment building, three is the floor, 4a is the apartment.  Who knew?  By this time it was around 11 am here, and 5 am at home.  I finally found the apartment and Meril, my friend and roommate from GW, was there.  We moved all of my things into our room.  Now, it would seem wise to sleep at this point, but then I would be jetlagged so, logically, I decided to not sleep at all.  The first three days of traveling and being in Barcelona I slept for seven hours total.  New York is the "city that never sleeps", but Barcelona is definitely tied for that title.  I spent the next few days wandering around Barcelona, making friends, and getting to know the city.  

 My apartment is in a barrio (neighborhood) about a thirty minute walk north of la Placa Catalunya, the pigeon-infested center of Barcelona.  By metro it is about twelve minutes.  My school is located right off of the placa, diagonal to Las Ramblas, the most famous street in Barcelona.  The "street" is really a wide strip of sidewalk that extends all the way to the Mediterranean Sea, about 1-2 miles? I am not really sure how far it is.    Every day there are vendors selling birds, flowers, and tourist items.  There are human statues and performers lining the sides of the main walk.  There are tons of restaurants and shops, with small streets that wind off into ethnic neighborhoods with cool shops and cheap restaurants.  Also the St. Josep Boccaria, the main market is off of Las Ramblas.  This is probably my most favorite place in Barcelona.  Permanent vendors sell food items in an open market with a roof.  The food is piled high and very very fresh.  Seafood, lentils, candy, fruit, meat, bread, anything you could want is available here and it is delicious.  I like to buy the fresh cups of fruit juice for a euro, or a sliced coconut for a euro.  I have yet to try the candy stand, but piles upon piles of candy lying in the open is mouth watering.  At night Las Ramblas is a bit different to wander down.  Prostitution is legal here, and if you are a man, they are very persistent.   A woman walking alone or a few paces ahead or behind her friends is  considered approachable for a price.  Indian men wander the street holding six packs of cerveza (beer) offering a can for a euro.  On Las Ramblas you can fulfill any guilty pleasure - drugs, alcohol, sex are all readily available, but watch out for your belongings.  We have learned to never keep anything in our pockets, and if holding a purse, wear it in front of you.  Men never keep their wallets in the back pocket, but the front.  The key to keeping safe is being careful.  The only people who experience problems are the loud obnoxious drunks.  

Well, I have a ton more to say considering I haven't even touched on my trip to Valencia and Peniscola, and that was over a week ago... I guess I should have been doing this since the beginning.  I hope everything in the States is going well!