España

When I first found out I was going to be working for Semester at Sea for this Voyage I was ecstatic about the itinerary. Japan? Hong Kong? Egypt? Are you kidding me? And then I saw that Spain was the last port on the itinerary before returning to the US. How perfect, I thought. After spending all of summer ’05 in Spain, I’ve been yearning to go back. But, with only five days in each port, I’d be forced to make a decision. Do I go to a part of Spain I’ve never been, like Bilbao or San Sebastian, do I go back to Madrid, Malaga or Marbella, or should I return to see my friends and try to capture something I left behind in Barcelona? It was a tough decision, but I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t finished with Barcelona, and I had to get it out of my system.

Upon arrival in Cadiz, the flavor of Spain was at once, inviting. I was excited to speak the language (at least more than the hellos, good-byes and thank you’s I had learned to speak in the other ports). I approached the ticket counter at the bus station and the cashier’s desk at the bank with confidence. I knew I could both speak and understand far better than I could the first time I’d been to Spain. And it was true, with each transaction I grew more confident. My plan was to take a bus to Sevilla, spend a few hours there, and then take a flight to Barcelona that night. I’d spend the remaining time in Barcelona before flying back to Sevilla and finally take the train back to Cadiz on the day of departure.

I regret that I had only left a little time to explore Cadiz before departing… but I know that this will not be my last journey to Spain, and that it’s very likely I will return to this region. Andalusia is a region rich in culture and heritage, and it is in fact where my great-grandparents were from, the birthplace of many of my great aunts and uncles, and the home of many of my far extended family. The coastline along Cadiz was beautiful, peaceful and calm. With little time to explore, I watched it mostly from the window of my coach. Arriving in Sevilla, anyone would know immediately that they are in Spain. It has a very typical Spanish feel, with towering cathedrals, colorful palaces, and tiled rooftops on nearly every home. Sevilla is a rather large city, much more modern than I had expected. I think I was envisioning a village with a large plaza in the center, with flamenco dancers on the square and fresh bread baking in the panaderias on every corner. And while it ma not be difficult to find exactly that scenario in this city as well as other parts of Spain, I found instead, university students with their backpacks walking to classes, young men with baggy jeans and long sleeved t-shirts listening to their ipods as they crossed the street, and both men and women in pin striped suits walking or taking the bus to work. I stopped an older man on the street and asked him for directions to the bus that would take me to the airport. His thick strong Andalusian accent (shortened words and strong “th” sound) reminded me at once of my grandfather’s cousin Antonio whom I had stayed with last year in a little town in the south called Benahavis. It made me smile. If only I’d had more time, I could have stayed in Sevilla, or met up again with family in Cadiz or Benahavis. But, as I said before, I know that I will be back. I had to get Barcelona out of my mind.

The short flight from Sevilla to Barcelona allowed me some time to reflect on the time spent there last summer and to anticipate all the things I wanted to see and do this time, that I missed when I was there last. When I arrived at the airport, it was great, I knew exactly where to go, how to take the train into the city, where to find the metro stop. While, trying to figure out maps and bus stations and train schedules in each of the previous ports had been exciting, it was nice to finally be in a place that felt familiar. As soon as I emerged from the underground metro onto the streets of Passeig de Gracia in Barcelona, I felt almost as if I was at home. You know how the smell of a place (the air, the food, even the cars whizzing by) can bring back memories or transport you to another place in time? That was how I felt when I arrived. I had left Barcelona a year ago with tears rolling down my face. I wasn’t ready to leave yet, and I had no idea then, when or if I’d be able to return.

My flatmate when I lived in Barcelona was a Dutch girl named Melissa who came to visit me in Los Angeles this year, and has since moved to Barcelona. The plan was to stay with her, meet up with my friend Manuel, and visit some of the places that had been on my list before. I hadn’t seen Melissa since July (almost the same amount of time it’s been since I have seen most of my friends back home). But when I saw her it was as if no time had passed at all. Except that I realized rather quickly that her Spanish had improved while mine had declined. We spent the first night just catching up, and playing a board game with her roommate, Annalies.

The next day I had nearly the whole day to myself, and I just walked around the city, trying to pay attention to new sights, but visiting a few of my favorite spots, like the beach at Barceloneta, Las Ramblas, Plaza Catalunya and Park Ciutadela. Melissa and I met for lunch and had some fabulous pinchos and tapas, my favorite foods to eat in Spain. That evening I was exhausted from walking around the whole city, not wanting to waste any precious time taking a siesta. We had dinner that evening at a Japanese place, which was a little weird, but I guess you can’t eat tapas all the time.

The next two days were spent traveling to the beautiful parks of Montjuic, meeting up with my friend, and other former flatmate Manuel, going out for tapas and Sangria, and finally traveling down the coast to the beautiful, artsy little beach town of Sitges, a spot I had longed to visit while I was last in Barcelona, but never made it. It was the first time there for all three of us, and a visit we were all equally as thrilled to have made. Sitges is a gorgeous beach community along the coast between Barcelona and Terragona, with a cozy community of artists, writer, poets and yes, vacationers. The homes there were gorgeous but not imposing. It reminded me a little of some of our beach communities back at home, where children ride their bikes along the boardwalk, young couples are pushing strollers, and the people from young to old walk their dogs, sit and eat at cafes or meander through the shops and open markets. It was a refreshing little respite from the bustle of all the people, especially the tourists, in Barcelona. I wished I could have stayed there for a few more days.

My last night in Barcelona was as most last nights are, bittersweet. I was happy. I’d spent a great day at Sitges, the day before at Montjuic and I was satisfied I’d seen most of the places I felt I left behind a year ago. I had come back to Barcelona and met up with my good friends, one of whom, before this trip, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again. We went to a great restaurant in a fun little area of town I’d never been. I was a little sad. I’d have loved to have had just one or two more days there. But I didn’t cry this time. As I was leaving to get in the cab to go back to Melissa’s apartment that night, Manuel handed me a little gift – un anillo de amistad – a friendship ring, exactly like the one he was wearing that I’d been admiring all day long. I had wanted to get one for me and a friend back at home, but I hadn’t seen any while we were out, and I’d just as soon forgotten about it. But, when I saw the ring and placed it on my finger, I realized that no matter how far away your friends are, they are still your friends, and while close friends are often hard to come by, you can find them sometimes anywhere in the world. When I left Barcelona this time, I wasn’t sad at all. It was the perfect last port for me, and one I will always remember. This time I don’t feel as if I left anything behind, rather I took something with me that will always remind me of the importance of friendship. Now, I am looking forward to seeing my friends back home.


If I can just get through these rocky seas…