Living La Vida Local

If I'm being honest, tourism is my least favorite part of travel. When imagining the ideal travel experience, rarely do the famous landmarks and must-see's come to mind. Of course, those things are important and beautiful and--after all--a must-see! But, I prefer daily living. Commuting to Barre class on local transport. Stopping in at a local bakery (blessing of blessings, there are many!) for a tarta manzana. Running a quick errand at the Mercadona. Listening to the sounds of the city below as I hang laundry to dry in the lavadero. Chatting with a neighbor as we share a cozy-sized ascensor down to the first floor. Exchanging cordial smiles with now-familiar faces on Travessera de Les Corts and Carrer de Joan Güell. Rising early (not quite as early as I did in SoCal for dawn patrol surfing, but it feels the same) for Spanish class. Sharing the sidewalks with los chicos holding hands with their parents also on their way to school.

The past week's focus has been establishing a routine and living life. No touristic agenda. No bucket list. Living sobre la marcha. That is, taking life as it comes and allowing plans to come together spontaneously. The unseasonably cool, rainy, and cloudy weather in Catalunya right now requires a more laissez-fare approach to plans anyways. And, with fun friends like Elena and Ali by my side, any day is guaranteed to be a good day! I posted the weekend's activities on Instagram (now available under the Barcelona Highlight and featured briefly below), so I will dive more into the week's happenings in this post.

(From Top Left to Right / First Row: Ali, Elena, and I went to a former-bullfighting ring-turned shopping mall; FC Barcelona paraded through Barcelona to celebrate their football season--Elena + Ali's balcony gave us a great view of the festivities; this view across Barcelona literally stopped me mid-sentence, it was so beautiful.)

(From Bottom Left to Right / Second Row: We ventured out into the rain to enjoy a city-wide "Night out at the Museum" at the Monaterio de Pedralbes; spotted my girl, el Virgen de Montserrat, at the Monasterio; took advantage of Sunday's morning sunshine to lay on the beach in Sitges...followed by paella for lunch.)

Let's start with new foodie experiences!

With a philosophy like sobre la marcha, one has to accept that she will, inevitably, come across something that isn't tailored exactly to her preferences. Enter: Gazpacho.

Now, let me be clear: this cold Spanish soup is lovely to many--and for good reason! I mean, you can even have it in a juice box with your daily pastry. Clearly, it has wide appeal.

And so I, someone who eats most things (save for heavily raisined or celeried dishes), confidently ordered a bowl of this "chilly red." My friends, gazpacho and I are not meant to be mealtime companions. The restaurant prepared it beautifully, I have no doubt. The problem lies with me. As badly as I wanted to love this iconic Spanish dish, I simply could not.

Politely, I scooched the bowl to the edge of the table. I hoped the waiter would not notice that I hadn't enjoyed it…but to no avail. He approached my table with concern. I assured him that this was my first time trying gazpacho, and that I was thankful to have tried it somewhere so nice as this restaurant. He departs. Next, the chef appears at my table. Now, he's expressing concern. I try to assure him that the gazpacho is very good, I'm just not able to finish it. He asks what he can bring me instead (keep in mind, I ordered the menú del día, a second fish dish is already on its way). I tell him that I want for nothing, I am happy. He asks me if I'd like a little salad. I say that it's really ok. He asks again. So, I agree to a little salad with some tuna. 'Twas one of those situations where everyone is flustered and concerned for their own reasons. Comical, endearing, and a test of how well one can persuade another.

As you see in the photos above, I ate more than well in the end. Even enjoyed a refreshing scoop of helada de limon. I don't think I had much else to eat that day…It was a one-and-done kind of a day meal-wise. (And, yes, I really must take more care with these photos...I endeavor to be more Instagram-able!)

I've spotted a few tempting ice cream shops and chocolate stores while bopping around Eixample, and I finally made it to one this week: Niji, a handmade Japanese mochi shop. Eixample is quickly becoming a favorite neighborhood of mine for food, shopping, and other activities. It feels like a good mix of young and old, families and young professionals. When you come out of the metro (stop: Passeig de Gràcia) onto Carrer del Consell de Cent, Gaudi's famous Casa Batlló greets you. It's quite a nice thing to see after being underground. Ok, back to the mochi. I've had mochi in the past and enjoyed it well enough. But Niji changed what I thought mochi could be! These were like delectable pillows filled with smooth, flavorful cold creams.

(Flavors in order of preference: Red Bean (Anko), Yuzu,

Mango Passionfruit, and Cherry.)

If you ever find yourself in Barcelona, do stop by! There are over a dozen flavors to choose from ranging from decadent flavors like cheesecake and oreo to more traditional red bean and green tea. I selected four flavors to share with Ali and Elena after dinner (Ali prepared delicious octopus and potatoes--my, my do we eat well in La Casa Ramadan-Calvo!). Yum!

Additionally, this week brought the wonderful gift of seeing old friends!

La familia Canales stopped through Barcelona this week on their vacation. Liz and I first met about 4 years ago (maybe a little more?) on separate trips to the Channel Islands (10/10 recommend this US National Park as well). We were both traveling solo and, after a little chat on the ferry from Ventura, CA, to the island, decided to share a tandem kayak for our sea cave adventure. Our friendship began in the cutest way. We started writing each other on WhatsApp (she lived in Los Angeles, and I lived in San Diego) and eventually decided to have a sleepover at my place in San Diego--which was so very fun! I ended up celebrating Thanksgiving with her family in Torrance, CA, and becoming friends with her sister, Flor, too.

(From Left to Right: Mama Canales, Papa Canales, Me, and Liz--We snapped this photo as we parted ways!)

The Canales family remains one of the greatest blessings from living in SoCal--and I was so happy to spend the morning with them in Eixample this week. We met for cafecito and then went shopping. It was such a comfortable, regular, what-we-would've-done-back-home kind of a time. I loved it. And then, I hopped onto the metro and went home to begin work for the day.

Lastly, but perhaps the most pleasantly surprising--

I began private Spanish classes this week. I not only need to dust off some cobwebs, but Spain Spanish is a bit different from what I've spoken in Peru or Cuba--the accents, the slang, common phrases, and certain words (ex: "juice" is zumo not jugo). If I have to study or practice anything, I'd want it to be this. Learning another language is exciting and fun. It reorients how one sees the world around her. It ushers certain grammatical details to the forefront and politely excuses others. The pleasant surprise: my tutor and I are about the same age and share parallel journeys in how we've come to understand ourselves in the world. For example, both of us have at least one parent who emigrated from another country. For her, the country is Morocco. For me, the country is Jamaica. Each of us--in our separate contexts of the US and Spain--have had to navigate what it means to feel very connected to a place you've never lived full-time or to a people whose language you understand but do not speak in your own daily life. It's been very cool this week to share the complexity and emotions of this experience with a kindred spirit--and via a language that is not my own. What a lovely surprise and gift, all at once.

This is what I love about travel. The regular things. Living more and more like the locals. I'll never be mistaken for an Española. But, that's O.K. I'm simply happy to be here.