London

Napoli, Capri and the Amalfi Coast

Roma

Tuscany: Florence, Pisa, Siena

Verona and Bologna

Venice

Munich, Starnberg, Salzberg, Dachau and Bertchesgaden

Budapest

Vienna and Wachau Valley

Prague

Berlin

Black Forest

Paris

Barcelona and Figueres

The train from Paris to Barcelona was largely uneventful. I was exhausted from travelling all day so I didn't really bother trying to talk to anyone. Apparently it was a mistake as the next morning, I met this Canadian who was telling me about ten to twenty peeps were in the bar car partying until they got kicked out. At midnight when the car otherwise closes at 2am. They continued partying on the hallways until a condutor ushered them back into the bar car after they explained they got kicked out. I was going to meet them again at a park after we all got settled into our respective hostels/friend's couches. However, instead of meeting up with them, Garreth showed me around Barcelona a bit. Nice of him since I did show up a day earlier than I should have and I think I pulled him out of bed at around noon... maybe 2. I actually don't know how long I would've been sitting outside of his appartment before he decided to get up since he didn't bother answering the door... one of his new german roommates was coming back from wherever and let me in.

We saw a whole bunch of Gaudi's stuff... I'll have to check the names later but overall it was just amazing. Of course, the masterpiece itself was La Sagrada Familia - a massive, 18 towered church that is due to be completed in 2026, 100 years after the death of its designer: Antoni Gaudi. While churches in the past have often taken hundred of years, it’s simply astonishing that something in modern time will take that long to create given the technological wonders we have all around us. You might ask why is this taking so long to build then... well, not a single facet of the stone building is flat. Every piece is handcarved as Gaudi believed that if something doesn't need to be flat, why should it be?

Later that evening we went to a bar where the basement housed the Italians while the mainfloor housed the Spaniards and watched the Eurocup game between... who else? This was really my first major experience with the prevalence of smoking everywhere in Europe. It’s really about the only thing I've disliked about Europe... the smoking. While in most closed areas it's now legally banned, it's only half enforced. Once I get to talking about Berlin, I'll add some interesting anecdotes, though.

The game itself was uneventful. Actually, that's being nice - it was boring as shit. Watching paint dry would be more amusing cause you could probably at least get high off the paint fumes. The cancer rate would be about the same with the smoke in the air though. No score through golden goal times and finished with a shootout. There weren't even many chances in the game. I guess that was kinda expected as Italy is incredibly defensive but Spain is supposed to be an offensive powerhouse... or something like that. But at least the Spainiards were happy to have won since they haven't beaten Italy in something like 50 years in major international competition.

Aside from that, it was kinda sad since even though we were entering elmination rounds, there wasn't much celebrating going on. Barcelona is in Catalonia which is like Quebec in Canada to an extreme - they want to succeed so badly that they can't be bothered to cheer for the Spanish national team. Same with the languages of mandating that Catalonian be placed on all signs before Spanish. Even entering the semi-finals, front page coverage of local papers centered on one of the star Barça players instead of the fact that they were playing Russia, whom they beat in qualifiers 3-0, to enter the finals in the first time in decades or so. So there was maybe five minutes of partying... and this theme would come back to haunt me by Paris.

Next day: (So I’ve put this off long enough that I’m now forgetting the order of events. I’m going to try rebuilding my memories from photos but either way, the order isn’t critical.)

Come to think of it, I can’t recall anymore. I think I must have done something considering it was Sunday and Garreth wasn’t working.  Monday was the craziness of La festivale de Sant Joan. I’ll just forgo chrono order and detail interesting events. The lasting memories are the only ones that really matter.

Festivale de Sant Joan: We set off fairly late by NA standards but about the right time for Europe (~12?). With mixed drinks in hand, we headed down through winding streets, past Plaça de George Orwell – the first plaza with public security cameras... yeah.  – amidst smoke and endless firecrackers lit off by gradeschoolers. Garreth aptly described the experience when he deadpanned, “Hey so Charlie, remember the time you were in Barcelona when some kid blew your face off with fireworks?”

We walked down a few beaches, past the overpopulated tourist ones with the promise of a concert further along.  It was actually the first time I had come down to the beach, perfect time to visit mind you: middle of the night. It was completely packed with partiers, drunkards and families. Walls and bushes had been turned into urinals, left right and centre. Definitely was looking forward to swimming there in the days to come.

Eventually, we ran into some of Garreth’s friends and we came to the realization that the concert was not to materialize. Either it never existed or had moved down the beach already. I had to kill an hour or so while personal stuffs were dealt with but soon after, we found a jumping place on the beach to enjoy the rest of the night.

I’m going to make a point not to talk about more personal matters through the trip but I do have to chronical that it’s incredibly amusing to flirt with a girl when you can’t speak the same language. Even more so when your friend’s girlfriend is helping to translate for your benefit. EVEN more amusing when her friend is also translating to help things along :)

One reoccurring theme I was finding through parts of Europe was that people just don’t buy that I’m Canadian. There is racism involved but I don’t think I ever really came across an instance where it was asked in any malicious way so I had no problem when I further qualified that I have a Chinese heritage; of course, after making sure they knew I identified with being Canadian and teasing them about it.

My second all-nighter, spent dancing, drinking and watching fireworks on the beach in Barcelona. Oh yeah, and some people couldn’t wait to jump in the ocean already. Yikes.

Parc Guell etc: Making a larger effort to explore after recovering from Sant Joan,  I set off mid morning and checked out the Pablo Picasso Museum – except that it was closed. So I continued and trekked up the hills that flank Barcelona in search of Gaudi’s city: Parc Guell. I got lost along the way but got some great views of the city and the entire Sagrada Familia from afar. Eventually, I did stumble across it.

Parc Guell was an effort by Gaudi to create his ‘ideal’ city. The task proved too daunting and he left it mostly unfinished but there were still a handful of crazy sites. The best descriptors might be that it did indeed look like a land filled with gingerbread houses – plus a few more imposing stone structures. Swarming with tourists and a handful of buskers, while wandering the plazas, I kept thinking how fun it would’ve been to have someone to break out some Tango with. The locals could also make great backdrops for some wild fashion photography or maybe contrast with some etherealness in model.

Afterwards, I walked down intending to catch the last bit of light hitting La Sagrada Familia. I had the time constraint of meeting up with Garreth as he got home from work and sadly the sun didn’t go down till after I left. I had better light by the time I got to Casa Batlló but I missed my chance to really capture his masterpiece.

Figueres:

I’m pretty sure on the Thursday I made the effort to trek out two hours north to Figueres on the advice of Garreth to check out Teatre-Museu Dalí. I met a couple of Candians on the way who had a few hours to kill before their ryan air flight outta Girona so I convinced them to tag along. After a bargain lunch (the best time to drop euros on dining out for value) with some really refreshing gazpacho, we headed into the red-castle guarded by eggs that is Dali’s Theatre. I honestly can’t describe in words how awesomely psychedelic it is. There’s definitely something in the water to produce such vision from these artists.

Speaking of that, just a short blurb on Picasso: I stopped into his museum/art gallery the next day or so. It was not nearly as cool as either Dali’s or Gaudi’s works but still damn impressive. I definitely learned a lot about this one piece, Las Meninas - quite a famous work for its exploration of perspective. I’m not sure I really get it inasmuch as how much this one piece has been studied. To clarify, Picasso did not paint the original Las Meninas; that was done by Valazquez but has been interpreted by countless artists. Picasso is arguably the most influential to explore the piece with a cubist’s mindset: exploring “colour, form, rhythm and movement.”

Time for another break.

Amsterdam to Paris

I think I've described this part adequately way before. I'll check it again later.

Reboot

Alright, so I'm terrible at updating this thing. Something about taking precious time out of europe and typically paying for it at an internet cafe doesn't appeal to me. That said, I'm going to go about this in a different manner... I'm going to actually outline all the various places I've been in Europe and then try to fill the blanks as it were. So, for those reading (which amounts to maybe two of my friends I've actually told I'm doing this), it may get more disorganized for a while... but here we go.