I’m no newbie to Spain, but I’m a fresh arrival to Barcelona. After a year enjoying free tapas in Granada and another spent crouched over a space heater in rainy Bilbao, I’m excited to see what this cosmopolitan Mediterranean city has to offer.
I’ve been here for a month, and plan on staying till the end of June, when my English teaching contract ends and the country kicks me out for being a visa-less American. But I’m beginning to realize I’ll need more than a year to really get to know this unbeatable city. I wish I knew the best place for pan tomaca; the cheapest (drinkable) glass of wine in the city; what time to arrive at my nearest Bicing station before all the bikes are taken. But there are only so many ways blogs and Lonely Planet can enlighten you; the best teacher is time. So here’s how I envision my perfect day in Barcelona come June, when I’ve gotten more familiar with my surroundings and it’s time to leave it all behind.
My Perfect (Semi-Hypothetical) Barcelona Day
I wake up naturally in my flat in Raval—the screaming baby next door has decided to pipe down just this once. First things first, I lace up my running shoes and jog all the way up Montjuïc without stopping. It’s effortless, because an excess of queso Manchego and vino tintothis year has actually made me more fit. Science, people.
After showering, I head to the Federal Café (c/ Parlament, 39), for brunch. I’m not eating alone, because it’s June by now and I’ve made at least 65 friends (all from different countries). One such friend shares my passion for modern interiors and baked eggs on toast, and agrees to join. We sip cappuccinos on the third floor terrace, and give thanks that Brunch Culture has started to catch on in this city.
Since I’ll be eating again in an hour and a half (you asked for my ideal day, right?), I decide to digest with a walk on the beach. I head to the nearest Bicing station, which is miraculously well stocked with bikes that have working brakes and oiled chains. I ride to Nova Icària beach without getting screamed at by an elderly Catalan man for breaking traffic laws (happened last week), and also without getting hit by a tour bus (almost happened last week). When I arrive, there are plenty of spaces to dock my bike (did not happen last week).
For the entirety of perfection in my favorite Spanish city, read the full article at HomagetoBCN . . .