2/4/2010- Barcelona, Spain
I fell in love in Spain. The object of my affections and I first came into contact with eachother when he walked in on me, mid-changing from jeans to sweat pants, and laughed off my clear expression of shock with a consoling, "Don't worry, I'm gay." His name is Brendon and he may or may not be the greatest blessing oof our entire trip to Barcelona. Brendon is Australian and was traveling around Europe on his own as a post-graduation adventure. He would delight us by randomly spouting off with random Australian tidbits such as calling candy "lollies," Kraft singles "floppy cheese," and prefacing everything with "heaps." With each adorable lingo quip, we were more and more enamored with him.
We were given Brendon as a roommate in our 4 ft by 7 ft hostel room and could not be more pleased with our new friend. He went on everything from a 3-hour walking tour, the Picasso museum, and paella and sangria on the marina. On day two, he and I decided to bypass the 6 euro audio guide at the Segrada Famalia cathedral by Gaudi and to make up our own explanations for the intricate and wild architecture. Barcelona was not at all what I anticipated it to be, but surpassed my expectations in every way. The trip had its highs (finally seeing some ocean, amazing local culture and cusine and new friends) as well as its lows (9-hour flight delay, 48 hours of no sleep) but collectively we returned to Florence equally as we invigorated as we were exhausted. We even convinced Brendon to change his travel plans to include a pit-stop in Florence. New friends and new experiences was "heaps good."
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