Welcome back friends and family. If you’re reading this then I must have done something right, given this is my ninth blog post. I left off right before spring break, or Semana Santa as it is called in Spain. It is not the same crazy week that it is in the States. It is a very religious week in Spain. Therefore, it is a great week for traveling (or praying I suppose). After a lot of deliberation and poor, last-minute planning, my friend from Boulder named Trent, Cole, Eva, and I went to Venice for the first part of break. Trent has been studying in Brussels, Belgium during this semester. We have experience traveling together because two summers ago we went to Vietnam for a class we took. We were ready for some more wild times, since we were seasoned veterans.

I flew into Venice on Thursday with the impression everyone else would do the same. The others couldn’t book a flight that day so I flew in alone with no place to stay. We had a hotel booked for Friday through Sunday. My plan was to sleep at the airport for a night and then meet up with everyone tomorrow. Unfortunately the gate led me straight out to a baggage claim area in which I was not allowed to sleep in, so I looked into other options. I knew I absolutely was not going to pay for a hotel this last minute in Venice, Italy. I won’t even get cheese on a hamburger if I have to pay another 50 cents. On the map there was a large park on the mainland not too far from the hotel I would eventually be staying at. I thought sleeping under a nice tree for the night would not only get me in-touch with nature, it would also cost me nothing.

I got lucky and rode a bus for free into the city. Only the bus never stopped at the park. It drove straight to Venice Island. OK, I had to think on the fly. I remembered that some other friends had a place on Venice Island that same night. I quickly found after getting off the bus that Wifi was very hard to come by on the island. Eventually I was able to access the internet, but then I learned that my friends had been drinking for quite some time and were unable to tell me where they were staying. One person responded but my Wifi ran out by the time he did. So, Plan B: find a park. There was one small park on the island. I scouted it out and found a nice place to sleep in some bushes. Actually, it wasn’t nice at all, nor was it my proudest moment. I was riding the line between my desire to save money and my desire for comfortable accommodations. Homeless people do it all the time, how hard can it be?

Almost on que, the rain came. Not a lot, but enough to say “You have made the wrong decision tonight.” It didn’t rain for long, but after it did, it became cold. Very cold. The bag I was using as a blanket didn’t cut it anymore nor did the jeans I was using as a pillow. I was shivering too much to fall asleep so I decided to concede. I sat up and saw a snail on my leg giving me an “I told you so look”. Which doesn’t make sense because the snail never told me anything prior to giving me that look but I might’ve been delirious. I packed my bag, crawled out of the bushes, and just started walking. Walking kept me warm so I just walked around Venice for most of the night. There were a few coffee shops that had late hours where I drank coffee and used Wifi. The walk was very serene.

I finally had my first real look around the city and it is famous for a reason. The only road for cars on the island was back at the bus stop but that was only a circle to drop off passengers. Everything else was either stone walkways or water. There must be hundreds of bridges of all shapes and sizes. The city felt very old, but in a good way. The foundations of the buildings were covered in moss and muscles while the top floors were decorated with vines and clotheslines. The people in general weren’t the friendliest I’ve ever met, but I was the exact stereotype of a college backpacker with my large, green backpack on. I walked until dawn. I saw both the party animals and the early birds within a few hours of each other. At one coffee shop, one of my friends was awake at around 7:30 or 8:00am (surprisingly) and messaged me asking where I was. He came and found me and brought me back to his place where I witnessed the rest of the crew awaken.

We talked and swapped stories from the previous night. They all planned to see the sights of Venice that day because they were leaving the next morning. Trent, Eva, and Cole would fly in until later that afternoon, so I spent the day with my other friends. Unexpectedly, I was not tired for the entire day. Maybe it was the energy of being in a new place or maybe it was the three cups of coffee. Either way I found it odd, but I certainly wasn’t complaining. We walked across the whole island to see the main attractions. It felt like I was in the renaissance, the city was so surreal. We had a great time and since we started early, we went home relatively early as well. We bought pasta to cook at my friends’ AirBnb that night. While the kitchen was crowded, I left to go find Trent, whom I had been in contact with.

He was taking a bus to the island, so I left to meet him at the bus station. The problem with my phone not having data is that I can never contact anyone outside of Wifi (besides a few people I can text). I walked 15 minutes to the bus station and 15 minutes back and never saw him. Eventually while I had Wifi Trent had found Wifi (he also did not have data) at a bar next door to the AirBnb. It was good to see a friend from back home. This began the journey of the second time Trent and I would be abroad together (the first was in Vietnam). Trent and I walked around for a while and caught up. Eventually we returned to the AirBnb and he met some of my friends. Then those friends invited some of their friends. Then Cole and Eva arrived. There was at least 12 of us in an apartment for 4 people, but luckily we didn’t have to sleep there.

Our last-minute-booked-hotel was nice. It was on the mainland so we had to take a bus to and from the island. The shower had water pressure and that was dearly missed. The next day Cole, Eva, Trent and I went back to Venice Island. I basically saw all the same stuff again and a few more things, but I didn’t care. I could’ve walked through the city seven days in a row and it still would be interesting. Trent got along with Cole and Eva which was surprising because he is such a cynical recluse. We all had a great day together which included going on a gondola ride. Gondolas in Colorado are a little different than gondolas in Venice. For those that don’t know (I didn’t), gondolas are the names of the boats that the guys in the striped shirts paddle around. We split it between the four of us to make it cheaper. It was a shame that Cole and Eva had to be there for Trent and I’s romantic outing, but saving money is important. Afterwards we drank wine on the edge of the canal and waved at public transport ferries trying to get the most waves. Only the kids and tourists would wave back. For dinner, I think we had pizza, or pasta. It was one of those two because that is all we ate the entire time in Italy.

The next day Eva and Cole left to see the rest of Italy. Trent and I searched to find our new hostel we had booked (we switched accommodations to save money). This was difficult without internet but it turned out to be a five minute walk from our hotel. Once we settled in, I realized that I had been feeling progressively worse throughout the day. I felt a cold coming on and my headache was getting worse. Trent tried to motivate me to go out with him, and I wanted to, but I decided to take a day off as an investment to feel better for the rest of break. Trent spent the day with two girls he found on tinder and I sat inside feeling guilty about ditching him. I got some work done and watched a movie, but the pain kept getting worse. I felt congested like someone put a bike pump in my ear and started pumping. The pressure in my head got to be too much so I walked to the nearest hospital to see if I could get treated or at least get some decongestant medicine. They turned me down, saying it was emergencies only. Obviously I wasn’t thrilled to hear that, but it was night by that time so I understood it. I went back to the hostel to see if Trent had returned (we only had one set of keys) and he was outside. Upon seeing me he knew something was wrong, I wasn’t hiding the pain very well. We looked up a 24-hour pharmacy and took a bus there. I bought some decongestant medicine and we returned home. It was in a powder form that I mixed into my water and I’m not sure if it worked but eventually I fell asleep.

In the morning, my headache woke me up early and I discovered a new symptom: blood coming out of my ears. I don’t think the day of rest worked. Trent was still asleep so I took the keys and went to the hospital that turned me down last night. Now it was daytime so they should be accepting normal patients. Wrong. Emergencies only. I speak maybe three words of Italian, but the guy at the hospital was telling me to go to a different hospital across town. A sweet lady helped me find the bus stop and I took the bus there. I got off the bus and walked around for a while before finding the new hospital. They told me the same thing. I don’t know what constitutes an emergency in Italy, but blood draining out of your ears apparently isn’t it. I didn’t know how to convey to these people that I wouldn’t be going through all this trouble to get help unless I thought I genuinely needed it. She directed me to a different hospital that ended up being a 30 minute walk away. I had to ask a few people for directions but eventually I made it.

When I arrived, a man who spoke English helped me find the waiting room for first aid. I took a number and waited for about an hour before I spoke with a nurse about my symptoms. That nurse gave me a slip of paper and told me to sit in a bigger, more crowded waiting room. That day I learned about one of the downsides to universal, free health care. The lack of efficiency. I was in that waiting room for seven hours. Undisputedly the worst day of my life. The pressure in my head kept building and building to the point that I honestly thought I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. I must have looked like a heroin addict on withdrawals because I was rocking back and forth while sweating and pulling my hair out. Not my proudest moment. The guy sitting next to me took notice and asked the nurse to help. A nurse took me back and I got interviewed again. She gave me some pain medicine to take. I would’ve rather gotten real treatment, but I wasn’t going to turn it down. It helped for about an hour. During that hour I realized I hadn’t eaten all day so I got a snickers bar from the vending machine. After I sat back down I realized some people were staring at me. The nurse coming over to me had brought some attention to me. That and the blood coming out of my ears.

The next few hours were excruciating. I asked several times how far down the list I was and they told me something different every time. I was basically begging for help but I didn’t get moved up in the priority of ailments. Finally my number popped up on the screen and I practically jumped out of my seat and ran to the front desk. I got moved around a few times throughout the hospital and got to see that it seemed empty for the most part, which was frustrating to see. I got the treatment I needed and prescriptions for antibiotics and steroids. Turns out it was not the common cold, it was an ear infection and the swelling was causing the pain. Meanwhile, I had stranded Trent at the hostel since I took the only set of keys. I had free Wifi when I first arrived at the hospital but it expired after an hour. I was able to tell Trent which hospital I was at and that I was waiting to be treated. While I was being treated, I somehow got Wifi again and saw many panicked messages from Trent after hours of no responses from me. He decided to come to the hospital and by the time I was done he was in the waiting room. We took the bus back together and I told him about my day. I felt terrible for Trent. I talked him into going on spring break with me and then I wasted two of those days.

The following day was much better. I took my medicine and we headed back to the island. It was our last day in Venice, so we had to check out and take our backpacks with us. We saw some new sights, ate some new food, haggled for a few souvenirs, and had a splendid day. Later we took the bus to the airport to catch our night flight to Ibiza. We made it on the flight and to Ibiza with no problems. All we had to do was find the AirBnb. Now buckle in, because this whole break was just one ordeal after another. I gave the address that was provided on the AirBnb website to the cab driver and he took us to a nice-looking apartment complex that was about two blocks from the beach. In the lobby, I told the receptionist that we were staying in an AirBnb and the name of the owner. The receptionist didn’t recognize the name and the owner told us that a girl would be waiting for us downstairs to show us the room. Using the lobby Wifi, we contacted the owner and found out the address listed online isn’t the real address. So he sent us a GPS location of the apartment. So Trent and I walk there but we don’t know which apartment is the AirBnb. We got let in by a delivery guy and we went up to the third floor and knocked on the apartment that we thought might be the one. A guy answers and we ask if it is an AirBnb. He says no, but lets us in anyway.

There were three people there who were very friendly. They spoke English and helped us get Wifi to contact these AirBnb people. They even gave us a drink and told us we could stay at their place if we wanted to. Eventually Trent and I got a third address and while we were tempted to stay, we decided to go. The apartment was a 5 minute walk away and turned out to be a few buildings away from the first place we went to. It was nearly two in the morning when we finally knocked on the door and a lady answered. She was wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt and had hair that was either unwashed or attempting to be dreadlocks (perhaps both). She smiled and invited us in (in Spanish) and showed us to our room. We booked a private room in the apartment and we knew we would be sharing the apartment with others. However, our room was far from private: it was the living room.

Walking into the apartment you walk through the kitchen first. Dirty dishes and trash were piled up. There were some leftover food scraps on the counter and floor. All this was nothing new to me given that I lived in a frat house for a year. The small kitchen quickly transitioned into the living room where a large bunk bed took up a third of the space. The lady informed us that this is where we were sleeping. Trent and I gave each other a look of worry. The lady sat down at the table in the room with her three friends who were all smoking and drinking. They greeted us warmly, probably because they were all hammered. The place reeked of cigarettes. There were dirty clothes thrown about, spilled beer bottles, cigarette butts ashed everywhere, and a dog. The dog was a pit bull and was super sweet. The crew of four didn’t seem to mind our arrival until we told them we had to go to bed. They reluctantly turned off the music and retreated to the one bedroom in the apartment. The apartment also had one bathroom and a balcony, which were equally clean. I wasn’t super stoked about living in the place for the next few days considering I was recovering from an ear infection. Trent also was not thrilled. We tried to make the most of it, but what made it worse was that there was no Wifi and we did not have data on our phones. The listing said it would be a private room with Wifi. The picture below is Trent’s bed, which was the dog’s favorite place to sleep.

While the living situation was not ideal, the rest of Ibiza did not disappoint. Ibiza is known for being a party island with famous clubs, but unlike Mexico, spring break is the offseason for Ibiza. Trent and I didn’t know this beforehand. The main reason we went to Ibiza from Venice is because we found a flight for $25. I’ve said before that I’m not a fan of the club scene, so I wasn’t very disappointed by the lack of parties. Even without the parties, Ibiza is a beautiful island. We spent the next few days relaxing on the beach, exploring the town, and going out at night. We tried to spend as much time away from our apartment as possible. It wasn’t the best spring break I’ve ever had (mostly because of the ear infection), but we made the most of it and still had a good time.

When I returned to Barcelona after break, I only had two weeks before the program was over. I couldn’t even believe it. The first few days I spent recovering at home, but I tried to make the most of the rest of my time there. There were these pesky things called finals that took up some of my time, but I still had plenty of time to go out with friends. One night for the first time ever, some kid tried to pickpocket me. He wasn’t very slick about it and I grabbed his arm and stopped him. Besides that hiccup, the last weeks were great. It was hard saying goodbye to everyone, especially since I was one of the last of my friends to leave. My last day I hiked to the top of Tibidabo, which is a church on top of the highest point in Barcelona. I couldn’t believe I didn’t do it earlier. The 360 degree panoramic view was the best I’ve ever seen.

I’m going to miss Barcelona. It was the best city I’ve ever been to. In no other city is a person able to climb a mountain, go to the beach, see a beautiful collection of art and architecture, and go party at night all in one day. There are plenty of stories that I left out of this blog on purpose and on accident, so if you see me in person, feel free to ask me about any of it. Perhaps one day I’ll return. I’ll need to work to get my money back because I have less than $100 in my savings account. Special thanks to my parents and grandparents for helping make this happen. I don’t know what I would do without you guys. This is my last Barcelona blog, but I’m will post one more epilogue because I traveled to Morocco and Ireland after leaving Barcelona. Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

“You are ready and able to do beautiful things in this world and after you walk through those doors today, you will only ever have two choices: love or fear. Choose love, and don’t ever let fear turn you against your playful heart.” -Jim Carrey