However, neither of those days hold a candle to the horrors that awaited us on...
Day 7
Barcelona, Spain
Highlights: Park Güell, Barceloneta
The night we arrived in Barcelona, we bought advance tickets online to see Antoni Gaudí's famous church and work in progress, La Sagrada Familia. Our tour didn't start until the afternoon, so we decided to wake up early and make it a full day of Gaudí celebration by exploring whimsical Park Güell first. Rather than take a taxi, we decided to take the metro and then walk to the back of the park. Little did we know, the walk to the park from the metro was like scaling a mountain. The picture below does not do it justice - it was such a steep incline. Although there were some escalators to help along the way, I was huffing and puffing when we finally arrived.
...only to learn that tickets were sold out until late in the afternoon. Park Güell has timed admission, which helps control crowds and allow for a more pleasant experience, but I was more than annoyed with the inconvenience.
Huffing and puffing for a different reason, we decided to purchase tickets for later in the day and head over to Sagrada Familia for an early lunch before our tour. Lunch was pleasant at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the church and as we slowly made our way over, we were blown away by the colossal, melting-candle-like exterior.
After a short wait in line, we were kindly informed that the tickets we purchased were actually for the following day. Oops. I have a bit of a flair for the dramatic, so I made sure to remind Wheat at least 50 times how half of our day was completely wasted.
We had some time to kill before returning to Park Güell, so we called upon Rick Steves and his guidebook for another quick walking tour of the Eixample. It took us through a beautiful residential area and a much less crowded market, where we enjoyed more fresh fruit juice and admired the numerous flower vendors. We also saw a couple more of Gaudí's famous modernist buildings - Casa Milà (or La Pedrera) and Casa Batlló.
When it was finally time, we took a cab up to Park Güell (which we were trying to avoid, remember?) and entered the park. The best word I can use to describe this place is enchanting. Wavy benches covered in vibrant mosaics meet strange tunnels built with rock pillars and gorgeous vegetation. A colorful lizard/dragon statue guards a staircase that leads you to breathtaking views of the city below. Part of the famous tiled bench at the top of the park was under construction, but enough was open to be swept away by the vantage point. We spent a couple hours getting lost in the twists and turns and soaking in the beautiful day...and although it hadn't gone exactly to plan, my mood improved dramatically by the time we hailed a cab to leave.
...and this is where the real fun began.
Since I don't activate international cell service when I travel abroad, I usually don't carry my cell phone with me when exploring. However, since we pre-purchased Sagrada Familia tickets, I brought my phone along that day because the tickets were in my email (please keep in mind that we didn't actually need the tickets since we went on the wrong day). Wheat, the saintly husband that he is, carried my phone in his pocket all day, but as we rode in the cab, he handed it to me to see how many steps we had taken. Minutes later, when we hopped out of the cab, I left it sitting in the back seat. We went up to our room, the cab drove away, and then we realized I had left my cell phone...in a cab...in Barcelona...with no phone service.
Cue the panic attack.
Remember my flair for the dramatic? I morphed into the spawn of Satan in two seconds flat. Wheat ran downstairs to ask another cab driver if there was a lost and found number. Did I mention my husband is a saint? He called it repeatedly from our room and didn't get an answer. We spoke to the person at the front desk of our hotel and pleaded for help. I cried and used some choice words.
Finally, Wheat got someone on the phone at the cab company. Since we paid for our fare in cash (instead of a card), the company could not figure out which driver to contact. They told us that at the end of the night, drivers usually do a sweep of their cabs and they would report back if the phone was turned in. This inspired very little confidence. Suddenly, Wheat got the bright idea to try calling my phone, even though the cell service wasn't activated. He tried a few times and on the third attempt, our driver answered. Because the background image on my phone is a picture of us, he remembered who we were and offered to bring it back.
This is what they call "un milagro" in Spain. A miracle.
A couple hours later, this remarkable man actually came back to our hotel to return my phone. We repaid him with a hug and a hefty tip...and decided to ignore the impending phone bill for the international calls.
In utter shock and completely relieved, we decided to leave our phones in the room and head to the beach for a relaxing evening after our hellscape of a day. It turned out to be the exact thing we needed.
When we arrived at Barceloneta (the beach area), a large group of people were swing dancing to oldies and we spent quite a while watching them and enjoying the sea breeze on our faces. Artists were building incredible sand castles (with fire!) for tips while couples strolled by hand-in-hand. We settled on a little restaurant on the beach for tapas (calamari, patatas bravas, and ham croquettes). I put my feet in the Mediterranean for the first time and giggled like a child as a I sank into the sand. It was easily the most romantic night of our entire trip...made all the better by gelato for dessert.
Sometimes I think the universe knows exactly what it's doing - how much you can take and what you need to bounce back. That night with that guy, especially on the heels of that horrible day, just seemed too good to be true.
