2005-11-14

Life Finds A Way....

Okay my children, journal time is here again. But, today, I must tell you. In order to get to the goodness, we must go through the horrors. Yes, the moment when, on this trip, I was clicking my heels like Dorothy, trying to send myself home.

So after being stuck in Alicante, I took one for the team and took an 6 hour train to Barcelona. Why it was 6 hours, I will never know. But, this is the key to my misery.

For some reason, there were 7 people on the train in my car just staring at me. Staring. Constantly.

At first you smile, pass it off as nothing, but after 6 hours it was honestly at the point that I had tears in my eyes and I just wanted to stand up and yell 'F OFF'. Between this one older man and woman in particular, I was about to stand up and kick them in the face. I don't usually get really like, genuinely angry. But dude. I was actually angry. It was unreal. I finally got rid of this woman by looking at her with the bitchiest expression I could muster, and holding her stare, and when she looked away and looked back, I was still staring. She quit it then, but the others were troopers.

Oh man, I was so frustrated when I got off the train. Like, I looked normal. I didn't have anything on my face. Thanks to the gay man, I had great hair. I wasn't even wearing my green hoodie! I just sat there with my iPod and did nothing. Made no weird noises. SO FRUSTRATING.

So after that I called Patrick with a slight deliema, and my question was confirmed--- I should just take a night train to San Sebastian at 1030 that night.

I go to book my ticket--- you CAN only get to San Sebastian by train on Sundays. It is not a myth. Not a mistake. Nor a bad time table reading job on my part. It just doesn't happen.

So now it's 7 at night and I've got to find a place to stay in Barcelona on a Saturday night.

For you Non European folk, Barcelona is connected from the UK and other places by incredibly cheap flights. Therefore, lots of people just come to Barcelona to party on the weekend.

The weekend includes Saturday night, surprisingly.

So here I am, with all my luggage, in the pouring rain, walking up Las Ramblas, in near tears.

There was no where.

The hostels in my book were full. I checked out a hotel that was 20 EU a night, and seriously... let's just say the guy was probably surprised because I was his first non-hooker checking in for hourly rates in probably 30 years. I couldn't bring myself to stay in that hole, no matter what the situation, so I just kept walking.

Two hours, and about 50 flights of steps later, there was still no place for me to stay. I was just... so tired. So, so tired. My body I could tell was starting to feel shitty again, my bag was killing my back and my feet were just so tired. I was officially defeated by life.

I had now, also, wandered myself into parts of Barcelona that Patrick and I had definitely never been, even worse than the red ligh district. It was past the 'bottom' end of Las Ramblas.... scummy. I finally find a place that has an open bed, for 20 Euros a night.

Well, I get up there and it's crap, of course. It's me in a room full of 9 British guys (I could be making great Danny Wallace refrences if all of you knew who he was), who were just in for the night to party. But the kicker is this: To use blankets, they charged you 10 Euro.

So it's me, hating life and soaked to the bone (especailly after having a near emotional breakdown while talking on a payphone on the street in the rain), sleeping in a room of rowdy londoners with no blankets whatsoever.

So I slept in my clothes on my backpack and wanted to cry. Which I did.

You might be asking why.

Well, on top of all this, I had already booked a room in San Sebastian, thinking I could get there and all would be great and I could get to France right after and stay with Ramsey's and there would be sunshine and rainbows and I would get a new puppy.

Not the case.

San Sebastian, like all of the Spain Rail system, it seems, is mainly linked by Madrid, which takes 7 hours, and runs three times lately.

That's right, to get to France, I'd have to go to Madrid! Or else wait a full week to get myself back to Barcelona.

I had no idea what to do.

I was really starting to enjoy winging it. Not the case anymore.

So in the morning after some major planning from Patrick, I decided that I would go to Ripoll. Which is in the Pyrnees.

At the train station, I decided to say 'F--- it' (which I actually did say, outloud, in the train station, out of pure frustration) and took a train to San Sebastian, so that my 20 Euro a night hostel wouldn't get charged onto my card without having even been there.

So last night, after a full 9 hours on the train that day. Oh, first I have to tell you about this train.

It was like being in a submarine. I would say that what probably happened was this (while on the train I decided this, of course):

Due to a small chicken getting caught in the ventilation system of a regular plane-like train, the Commander of the Spainish Rail System Alliance was really stuck in a rutt. It's election time coming up, and a broken train full of chicken bits wouldn't look good on his record. So, in a choice of pure desperation, he decided to bring back into Service... this train, if you could call it that. I have a feeling it was a converted submarine from WWII, that when the war was done, someone decided they would get creative with their shit and made a train out of it. It was all metal, and the windows were like this little round portal things. It was that weird army minty green colour of old fridges, and everything was just... really dated. I think it was probably in service from it's creation until 1968. It was then the train was pulled off the rails, only to somehow magically resurface over 30 years later on my very own platform.

It was awful.

So ANYWAYS. I'm on this bloody train for 9 hours which has about, oh, zero room for luggage, legs, human beings, etc, and I get into San Sebastian. I got the directions to the hostel... which were awful. Half an hour later, in the rain, of course, I'm all the way in the boonies on the northern coast of Spain looking for Zarbiola Bar.

DOESN'T EXIST.

An hour later than I antisipated, I finally found 'Olga's Place'. Exhausted. And they don't speak English. Or Italian. Or French. But they do speak, alot, and I don't understand a word. But that's alright. I have a place to sleep.

This is when the goodness starts coming, guys! Put down those kleenexes, life is looking up!

Life finds a way.

So the hostel itself is pretty great, it's a couple's converted apartment. The bathrooms are amazing, the beds super comfy, and the atmosphere is great. The kitchen is also equally awesome! A full on kitchen, again! Aside from Crack Whore District, Barcelona, Spain really knows how to do it's hostels. They've got it all figured out.

So the problem of getting to France still hasn't been fixed, but I am not worrying about it too much today. Or trying not to.

Let's talk about San Sebastian, and exactly why I have changed my plans to stay another night.

It's still raining, but thats not that much of a surprise, really.

San Sebastian is... awesome. Of all places so far, I could most definitely see myself living here. I would even learn Spanish for this place.

Right now, the surf is huge! Like, this tide is unreal right now. The waves are some of the biggest I have ever seen, in my whole entire lifetime, which I mean, is pretty long. Not as long as say, Patrick or Timo's, but hey, what can you do? (I'm sorry. I've missed making the two of you feel old.)

So the beach is unreal, the sand is perfect, the coastline is just... amazing. It's all sea and huge rock cliffs that fall straight down around you. The city is beautiful and super relaxed. The attitude kind of reminds me of Sandpoint or somewhere on Vancouver Island, like Tofino. For a big city, everyone is really chill and dogs have the run of the place. People just bring their dogs and they just chill on the street. And this is one of the first places in Europe I've seen people actually pick up their dogs poo! AMAZING!

So theres lots of dogs, surfing is huge here, the people are sweet, the city beautiful and very cool, but theres also one thing that I must speak of.

The food.

It's only like 12 am and I have already fallen in love with the food here. Allow me to tell you about it.

I decided this morning that I would go and buy a pastry for breakfast at a bakery and then walk along the promenade along the beach.

That didn't happen.

Why, nikki, why didn't it happen?

Because the pastry was so good that I couldn't actually even walk while eating it. My body was too absorbed in this piece of pure heaven that I couldn't function doing two things at once. I'm shocked that I actually breathed while eating it. I had to stop in the street and just eat it.

Half way through it, I considered going back to the shop where I bought it and kissing the woman who made it on the mouth.

So after I ate that, and got the ability to walk again and not fantasize about food, I walked into the old part of San Sebastian.

Every street, there are like 30 or 40 pubs. All with the most elaborate and beautiful and DELICIOUS looking tapas (or whatever they are called here) I have ever seen in my life. And so much bread! And potatoes! And EGGS! THEY LOVE EGGS HERE!

Foodily, I am in heaven.

Oh man, that pastry. Dear lord, I don't even want to discribe it to you because you will all fly over here to eat one, and frankly, I don't miss you guys that much. And there aren't enough for everyone.

So they are mine. For me. All of them.

If I have to return to Canada in the next 3 days, it's because I've decided to stay in San Sebastian for as long as my money could last me just so I could eat, day and night.

I even had an hour long conversation about tapas last night with an Australian guy.

Oh, so I have to tell you about these two brilliant aussies I met last night. They moved out of their apartment two years ago... and haven't been home since. They have been travelling for two years!! They are almost done, and next week they go to Africia. I was amazed, and impressed. Could you imagine? Holy moly, and I thought III was getting sick of my clothes. :D

Okay, so thats my incredibly long story.

Hopefully tomorrow I can finally get myself out of Spain (quite the time around Spain for someone who wasn't planning to travel there at all) and up to France. I'm heading to Bordeaux, and if I feel good there, I will continue up to Rennes. If not, I think I'll head to Switzerland. We'll see what happens!

Lovies to all of you. Nasim, Patrick, you two could both easily live here and fall in love with it. Especailly because there is a huge Aquarium.

Which I will now be visiting.

AQUARIUM TOUR 2005!

Lovies!

love, nicole 11:07 a.m.

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