Surf, Sun, and Aquaworks

Woke up early, had myself a bread breakfast, and then proceeded to drink ten cups of what passes orange juice, and four cups of hot chocolate. I feel I have got my free-breakfast's worth today.

I'm going to level with you – I think it was today, but if I posted this yesterday, then clearly it wasn't. After breakfast, I got down to business, and booked myself a real confirmed, honest to god, flight to Rome. And I booked myself a hostel to boot. I feel pretty good about my choice. Hostelbookers gave it a good review, and it seems to be everything that I need. It seems that it doesn't matter where you're going to go – you end up with school trips. At this hostel a group of what I think are grade 7 and 8 kids just moved in. The teacher collected envelopes with their “Pamplona money” in it. It was “going to the safe.” Well, I now knew where 6000 euros were located. Look, as a teacher – step one, I would not take all their money and become responsible for it, because my god that's a trainwreck in the making. And if I did collect thousands of euros, I probably wouldn't then yell about where I was putting it, and then tell the same room of people that you were leaving the hostel for at least one hour. Honestly, do people not think?

You know – if I wasn't such a good person... The safe he's taking about? It's a wooden locker with a tiny little lock on it. I use it for my pack – because if someone wants to steal my dirty clothes – I'd be sad, but it would also make me giggle a little. Now if they stole it after laundry day! Well that's another matter.

So what did I do after all of this? Start my day by doing something productive?

Of course not. I went to the beach.



Yes, the beach. Had I realized the fantasticness of the beach, I would have planned more days here. Madrid has no beach! I have a game plan here in Barcelona, and provided that the sun is out, it's one without fail. But no – tomorrow I will move on, and hopefully find something to entertain me in the new, beachless, city.

But that was the future. As of right now, I walked myself down to the end of the beach where the surfers were. And I, arguably, took too many pictures and videos of people surfing. And – look – I recognize that these are tiny waves. There are no big swells here. And the surfing itself isn't that impressive – I've seen Blue Crush about a dozen times, I know what good surfing looks like, but there's still something so capturing about it. So pictures were taken. Many – many – pictures.

After that? I found myself a chair, I sat down, and I read my book. And it was everything I could have hoped it to be. I continued to do this “nothing” until about five o'clock when I had to return for food. At the grocery store I discovered two things. One – food is dirty cheap here. Two – beer is dirt cheap here. I say cheap, but perhaps you don't understand. Beer is about 30 cents (Canadian) a can. Thirty cents. Lets break this down again. If you were to buy a case of Lucky Lager (the more horrid brew known to man) you could have picked up 88 cans of beer here. Eighty eight! That's the number of beers at which time travel is possible!

And this, the town that I swore there would be no drinking in – because drinking apparently leads to stolen cameras, mobile phones, and wallets. Still – I report back to you on the inconceivable price. And this is in the grocery store on the main strip, in the big city. I can only guess at what it costs in the boons.

After eating my baguette and chorizo sandwich, I headed out to the magic fountain. I thought about not going – I was weary – but I'd heard people talk about it, and it only gets turned on twice a week, on Friday and Saturday, so I figured I might as well see what it was all about. You know, 'cause what else are you going to do in B'lona?

Go! See! The Fountain!

If you ever travel to Barcelona, make sure you're there for a fountain day. They say that there are five performances, one at 7:00 and then each half hour until 9:00. But each show is different music, and the fountain is set up differently. Reall it's a 150 minute show, with four five to ten minute intermissions. I stayed for the entire thing. How could I not?

The magic fountain is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in the entire world (and that saying is starting to carry some weight now.) Look – I know what you're thinking – it's just water to music. And maybe there are some lights. And that's right. That's all it is. There's nothing I can do or say to convince you of how beautiful it is, and I won't even try.

There is a moment when the fountain turns everything to mist, and each mist is lit a different colour. Watching them combine is like seeing the night sky explode with Aurora Borealis.

I can post some pictures, I can throw up some videos. But they don't capture it. Not fully. This is one of the first times that I've wanted to grab people and say – don't you know how fantastic this is? We're in Barcelona. In Spain. In Europe! Watching this fountain. This was one of those moments where I really understood and appreciated what it was I was doing, rather than continuing blindly in a haze.

I just – Look, magic fountain – Barcelona – check it out. If I was Superman and could fly around the world, this is one place I'd make sure to show up to a few times a year to watch. I'd also probably bring a date here, because it's free, it's romantic, and – well it's free. That's enough for me. That Superman has all the luck.