A Look at Barcelona Through the Words of Tyler Rice
¡Hola familia y amigos de Carnégie Méllon fútbol!
(That's Spanish for "we like it here and we've decided not to come home.")
I'm sorry we took so long getting to the journal entries for our first couple of days in Barca. We were treating them in classic Spanish fashion: yeah yeah we'll get around to it eventually, but let us first have this baguette and then take this nap. Fear not, though, we're happy and safe.
I'll first give you a quick update on the state of affairs and then dive into the details. Three things: 1) we're all nearly fluent in Spanish, 2) some of us have sunburn on our left shoulders only, and 3) we've all been pick pocketed at least once. Each of our passports has been stolen and we won't be making it back to the States. :(
As for the rest of the trip, it's been somethin else. There've been probably three clouds in the sky since we touched down, there's culture aplenty, and we've officially kicked a soccer ball around in the mountains with the locals. I'll get to the stunning result of our first game later, but just know for now that the mountain air is dry, really dry. Like so dry it hurt. Or maybe I didn't drink enough water. It's one of those. Or both.
Anyways, why don't I start from the first day? We hit the tarmac
around 8:30 in the morn and met with our guide, Han Baggen, whom on
the first several attempts we miscalled Hans Baggins and whom to
make up for our mistake we have now appropriately nicknamed Han
Solo. Han promptly led us to a loco little city on the playa called
Sitges (properly pronounced Sea-chays). It's got class, it's got
charm, and it's got beaches. Check and check mate for these
boys.
We quickly shed our cold weather gear, rolled up our pants, dug our toes in the sand, snapped some pics of the water, and then introduced ourselves to the people of Catalonia (Remind me to show you all a wacky photo of Jordan that I took on the beach, it's a hoot).
After some fun in the sun and a meal or two for the crew, the town busied up a little after lunchtime, so we packed up our stuff and made for Hotel HUSA Via Barcelona, our home for the week. It's a quaint metal rectangle with lights that you turn on by key card and square edges on all the furniture. No cab drivers know where it is, so therefore it must not exist.
For night activities a large portion of the guys hit up a nice little spot in town called The Avenue. It's an Irish pub, and it's just delightful.
Day 2: we awoke early for breakfast and then proceeded to take
over the top section of Espanyol's stadium for a midday match
against Elche. There was sunshine. There was a bevy of early goals
on display, and Elche proved that they had no interest in defending
the corner kicks. The Spanish are just so relaxed, and free flowing
fútbol is the best kind of fútbol...as they say. The
game ended 3-1 in favor of the home side, and a good time was had
by all.
Side note: We've taken some great team pictures, and the parents have been constantly snapping, so keep an eye out for those, you won't be disappointed. We're a good looking squad. (See gallery below)
With a belly full of sports, we added a healthy dose of sunshine and mosaic fantasia to the mix. We bused to the non-industrial side of Barca for a walk in Antoni Gaudi's Guell Parc, which is an architect's (Garrett Rauck) dream. We sat on oddly uncomfortable ergonomic benches, ate overpriced pizza and got dirt on our new tennis shoes (just me?). The park truly was a fantasia, though, and a place with artistic feats like that can really make an average Joe feel like an even more average (averager) Joe. We captured a lot of great pensive staring at cool views, don't you worry.
Before being dropped off to fend for ourselves against the
thieving gypsies in the center of the city, we walked around all
four facades of Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, Barcelona's one true
church (churches are different from basilicas, who knew?) and
easily the most incredible building I've ever seen with my own two
eyes. It looks like it's melting, or as one of the guys put it, "It
looks like one of those drippy sandcastles." Its construction was
begun in the early 20th Century and won't be completely finished
until at least 2026. There are currently 8 steeples; there will be
18 (fact).
We eventually bid adieu to our lovely tour guide, and then continued on to the city centre, where we separated into small groups and were promptly kidnapped. Just kidding, or am I?
I think we all made it back to the hotel after some tapas and night wandering down La Rambla, or "the Boulevard of Gelato." La Rambla is one of the cooler streets you'll ever walk, with restaurants and interesting characters galore.
And as for today, we got a fresh, tingly, slightly sour taste of what Wednesday's Champions League game is going to involve with a trip to FC Barcelona's stadium the Nou Camp, or "Camp Awesome". We took goofy pictures with a few of the players, kicked around on the pitch, and sat in on a few board meetings, throwing out some ideas for the future of the club.
But in actuality we followed the tour guide and got some history
on the club that is more than a club, checked out the view from the
best seats in the house, walked down the players' tunnel and out
onto the field, and funded at least two players' salaries with our
investments in the gift shop. In case you were wondering, I got a
scarf. That'll pay for Messi's next hot shave at the
barbershop.
It's gonna be one hell of a game in two days' time. I recommend watching on TV. Wyso may streak at halftime.
We then trekked into the city centre and spent some more time with the natives. I personally found a small square to enjoy the nice afternoon with friends and then made my way through the enchanting smells and colors of an indoor market. Seriously, so many fresh fruit smoothies and so much raw carne. I'd say the smoothies were to die for, but I didn't try them. Sorry.
And last but not least thus far on our journey, we ventured a bit outside the city into the Spanish mountains for our first game against the local teams. Tip time: 8:30 PM. Opponent: Avia. Result: not the best. Level of fun: oh so high. With a fast start (they hit long balls and darted down the wings right from the kickoff--they were intimidating) we feared the worst after a long day of being tourists. Over time we settled in and got our bearings, and we enjoyed ourselves, which is really all that matters. They may have scored more goals in the long run, but I'll just say that stand-in Tartan Benjamín Wysocki scored one of the more impressive celebrity shots of all time, putting a tasty little volley over the goalie's head from, oh, about 25 yards out. Final score: 6-1.
Different day, different score. The moon was in our eyes. We tripped. They cheated. They probably had zero fun.
We'll get 'em next time.
So that's our trip in beautiful Barca up until this point. It's been a blast. We've had a lot of laughs. Can't wait to tell you more about it. Until next tiempo, compadres.