I suppose that I shouldn’t pity myself though, I finally made it to Rome! Surprisingly, so far I have found Rome to be very dirty. Vanessa and I have constantly seen trash along the streets and sidewalks. Many people say that Paris is a dirty city, but I have found Rome to be more so. Again, though, I am being pessimistic. Truly, when coming in on the metro we had a small window of opportunity where we went over a bridge and saw a glorious scene. A true European city, doves included. We have arrived late though, so we have been unable to see much more than that.
Our hostel is an interesting place. Well, it is more or less a campsite. I told Vanessa that if we could stay in Le Meridian in Budapest that she could choose Rome. I’m somewhat glad though, because while I would love to be staying in something comparable to Le Meridian, I am saving money…well, at least putting money towards a more probable cause. Unfortunately, there is no internet, but the site is closer to a village than anything. It comes with a couple of restaurants and a pool, etc. Those things were nice to have right here because we were so tired after an all-consuming day of travel. We are staying in a tent. The nice thing is that it is all ours. Our last hostel left little in the way of privacy and safety, not to mention cleanliness. We are glad to have our own space to spread out in. Both of us have realized how grateful we are for small amenities in our lives such as drinking fountains, public restrooms, and trust. Again, that rounds on the ever present issue of pick-pocketry. Vanessa and I have both purchased locks (well, actually Vanessa purchased locks which I am now helping her use) to stop the thievery. Even on the metro here in Italy they have a cartoon advertisement warning about pick pockets! The funny thing is that this is the only form of protection that you get. I have split feelings about this because while it is nice to have the warning, I have found that America (seems) to have less of an issue with this. The controversy is accountability. I feel that I have fallen into the habit of having institutions, etc. that protect against this kind of thing, where you don’t quite have to worry about it yourself. Yet, here in Europe the stakes are higher. Meaning that if you are stupid or irresponsible you will pay for it, causing less people to act dumb. I still like having more security, although, it could be false security because putting your actual life and possessions into the hands of the government sounds a bit daft.
Wow, that was quite the ramble. Anyway, I wasn’t able to write much about Barcelona, and while I hate to have regrets, I am saddened because I did not take full advantage of the experience. This was in part due to exhaustion (32 hours of flight/layovers from America to London, to missing my flight, and finally to Barcelona), but also to my justification of it being a vacation and not wanting to feel obligated to do anything. I genuinely did like Barcelona though. I had a good time there, and learned many new things. If I could tell one of my most memorable moments it would be this:
Vanessa and I were walking down Las Ramblas and we happened to see a nude man walking down the streets. We were quite surprised, and I just happened to have the opportune moment of taking a picture of something else so that I could be just as quick to get a shot of him. I’ve been to nude beaches, but I’ve never seen a guy just so blatantly (not to mention confidently) walking down the street in the buff. He was so tan! But obviously he would be tan being naked on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea every day. Later we met some locals at a restaurant and told them about our interesting experience with this man. One of the guys was actually familiar with the story and was able to expand on our new friend. He said that some time a while back there was a German woman that came into Barcelona who saw this man. She thought that it was a wonderful idea, and that since there was no law against not wearing your clothes decided to follow suit. She started walking around Barcelona in the nude. Apparently, our initial nude friend was upset. He was to be the only nude person in Barcelona. People took pictures of him, they talked about him, he was known around the world for being the naked man that walked the streets of Barcelona. There was a showdown, and our nude friend told the German woman that she was not welcome to be the other naked human in Barcelona. From there I like to imagine that there was some kind of western gunfight because the town wasn’t big enough for the both of them, but I just found this experience indicative of many of the things that I saw in Barcelona. Barcelona is a crazy city. I loved its color, its quirkiness, but most of all the dark quality that it had. I don’t know if that makes much sense, but in comparison to Paris with all of its light swirly metro stop signs and high art, Barcelona embodies what would be a heavier, gaudier iron, but still an elegance better than Paris’ delicate swirls.
