Weekend in Paradise Part One

Sometimes I look at fellow bloggers' posts documenting their recent mini excursions or road trips and I can't help but think to myself... I won.  It's not their fault.  Not everyone has some of the most amazing landscapes and impossibly charming villages so close to home.


This past weekend ended up being a big deal.  For a long time, David and I had been contemplating cashing in the lovely gift that Sonia and Manuel had given us for our wedding.  It was a Smart Box, one of those gift certificates that comes with a booklet of several options.  As soon as we opened it, we knew we were going to go with a spa day.  So, last week, we finally selected a date and facility, and decided to make it into an event.  We booked a night in the same hotel as the spa.  I consulted with a coworker to find out which little towns in the surrounding area would be the most worth checking out.  The week slowly but surely came to an end, and Saturday morning—bright and early—we were north-bound, giddy to embark on a long-overdue adventure!


MENU.  MUSIC.  ARTISTS: GLEE.  SONGS: ALL.  GO!  Despite the GPS sporadically tweaking David's nerves a bit, the drive was a blast!  It was totally reminiscent of all the road trips we used to make together out of Columbus (Chicago, Michigan, Pittsburg, Cincinnati...).  We arrived at the hotel and promptly took in what would be our home for the next twenty four hours.

The Old Wing, where our room was.

The Grand Staircase

Cute little common area by our room.

After check-in, we went up to our room to leave our belongings and change into our swim suits and robes.  Our spa appointment was at 11:30, so we headed right down.


I have never relaxed as much as I did that afternoon!  The name of the hotel is the Vichy Catalan, which is also the name of a brand of sparkling mineral water (of which the factory is right next door).  The Spa's theme was this special water, which is supposedly, due to the minerals, beneficial to the body in many ways.  We began our session with an hour in the thermal circuit.  This entailed a giant jacuzzi filled with Vichy Catalan, two amazing saunas, as well a strange path of smooth stones and water jets meant to massage your legs and feet.


After this luxurious hour, we had an inhalation session.  For about a half hour, we sat in front of tube that expelled Vichy steam in our faces.  It sounds ridiculous, but it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life!  


Next, we were taken up on an elevator for the main event.  An hour-long double massage.  My masseuse was a godsend.  I'd never had a professional massage before, let alone a full body massage, and I struggled to contain my ecstatic moans.  David, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper.  His masseuse was a stocky blonde woman who looked like her name could be Helga and who quite possibly hailed from Sweden.  Not long after her "man hands" attacked him, he was already pleading for mercy!  But, despite the pain, he enjoyed the massage almost as much as I did.  Afterwards, they gave us a few minutes to lay there before we got up and got dressed.  Neither of us could move.  The aromatherapy, the candles, the music.  It was all too much.  I was pretty sure that elevator had taken us straight up to heaven.  Luckily, the reality we then had to go back to was nothing to fret about.


We went up to our rooms and relaxed a little while watching a movie about Judy Garland.  And then we decided to take a little road trip.  David had seen a little blip on the map, representing a lake, so we decided to head up to Banyoles and check it out.  We were not disappointed.

As soon as we arrived we found a little bar right on the edge of the lake.  I saw a sign for cheap mojitos and new it was meant to be.  They ended up being the best ones we had ever tasted!  (Except maybe for Sonia and Manuel's.)

After our drinks, we decided to take a walk along the lake.  Being from Michigan, you wouldn't really expect lakes to impress me all that much.  But being from Michigan, I'm not really accustomed to seeing lakes flanked my mountains.  The combination is breathtaking and creates an atmosphere more serene that I could have ever imagined!

 

All along the lakeshore, there were these tiny abandoned houses where people used to dock their boats.  When I saw this one, I immediately fell in love.  I instantly wanted the deed to this little place.  Can you imagine having this as your writing space?  I just know I could gush out a whole novel in one sitting if these were my surroundings.

As we entered the town, it became clear that there was some sort of sporting event going on.  As we neared a large park, we caught the final phase of a triathlon.  It must have been a tense one, because before long we were dodging an ambulance on its way to treat a participant.  Minutes later a helicopter swooped in and landed right next to the track to rush the patient off to the hospital!  It was a truly surreal thing to witness!

 

After that little incident, the walk back to the car was quiet and relaxing.  All and all, the excursion was a perfect follow-up to our day at the Spa. But soon we would need dinner.  So we decided to make our way back towards the hotel.  Right by the car, we found this sign and decided to honor our brief stay here with a photographic farewell.

The route we ended up taking to get back ran right through the city center of Girona.  Just to give you an understanding, We live in Barcelona, which is part of the Autonomous Community of Cataluña.  Cataluña is broken up into four provinces: Barcelona (in the middle, on the coast), Tarragona (also on the coast, to the south), Girona (to the north, on the coast as well), and Lérida (to the west of Barcelona).  Each province has a capital of the same name.  All of the places we visited this past weekend were to the north, in the province of Girona.  But now I am talking about the city.


David and I had come up to the city of Girona once before, for a flower festival.  I fell in love with it.  It's charm is so unique and the lifestyle here is palpable.  It's not an enormous city like Barcelona, but it's just big enough.  The vibrant medieval neighborhood gives it a truly romantic air while the quirky riverside denotes an authentic European metropolis.


Now that I'm looking at photos and reflecting on that festival, I'm realizing how badly I want to blog about it!  But just to give you a sneak peak, here are a couple of photos from that day!

WOW, right!  Just wait until you see the photos from the festival.  This place is MAGIC.  And, as it turns out, it's just as spectacular at night.  

We decided to stop and eat here.  We were wondering through this trendy, old neighborhood when it dawned on David that his old co-worker's parents owned a restaurant nearby.  We asked a waitress who'd just stepped outside for a cigarette if she knew where Artusi, the restaurant in question, might be.  Low and behold, it was just around the corner!  The ambience in the restaurant was divine and the food was absolutely exquisite!  It was an ideal date night, made even better by the fact that it wasn't even planned!


An hour later, after a drive far darker than we're used to these days, we arrived at the hotel.  I wanted to party long into the night, but David had sleep on his mind.  This was probably a good thing, since we had a long day ahead of us!  A day, I'm afraid, I'll have to explain in Part Two.  I can't believe how long it's taken me just to get here!  I'm sure you'll need a break too, but check back soon to hear about the wonderful medieval villages and exotic rock islands we discovered in the conclusion of our fabulous weekend that we somehow managed to cram into a single weekend!

L'aquarium!

Now that I finally have a job, I enjoy the weekend so much more. We make such an effort to take advantage of them! Of course this has meant plenty of time at the beach, but the best part is that now that we both have incomes, we can start checking off the list of things in Barcelona that I've yet to experience! Yesterday's mission accomplished: The Barcelona Aquarium!

Whenever I go to an aquarium, the two things I'm most amped up for are the sea horses and the manta rays. Sea horses are just so damn cute and awkward! Manta rays on the other hand, well, let's just say that they and I have a connection. Whenever I come across one, it always swims right over to me, greeting me with a giant smile. Basically, we're tight. And now that I live on the coast, it makes me feel good to know that if I were ever to find myself stranded out in the sea, my buddies would most likely come to my rescue.

The truth is that Sydney's Aquarium spoiled me a bit, and I don't know if another will ever live up to it. But Barcelona's reminded me a lot of Sydney's! The Sydney Aquarium is nestled into Darling Harbor while Barcelona's resides in Port Vell (Old Harbor). Both feature enormous tunnels below the harbor that allow you to observe the marina life from an unbeatable perspective, as well as a wide array of species to observe!

If you visit Barcelona, and you like Aquariums, I'd definitely recommend checking it out!

Nostalgic Tunes

The last couple of days, I've been listening to some of my old school favorites. You know those old CDs you practically wore out, the ones that somehow missed the migration into digital media? It's been almost surreal listening to the likes of Matchbox 20 and Third Eye Blind on an iPod while maneuvering through Barcelona. This setting—this life—is a harsh contrast to the one I lead when these tracks last graced my ears. I love being able to appreciate them in a whole new way.

A long time ago—i.e. over a decade ago—I joined Columbia House. This was in that particular phase of life when it becomes very important to establish a personal taste in music. I guess the "personal" part was a little unclear for us preteens, as we crowded the malls with a pocket-full of allowance to pick up whatever titles we could recognize from the local top 40 station. This lead to a pretty awkward selection when I chose which 12 CDs the company would send me just for joining the club. I spent a good twenty minutes this morning trying to recreate the list, and somehow I actually managed. So here they are!

1. Oasis - (What's the Story) Morning Glory?
2. Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want
3. TLC - FanMail
4. Cherry Poppin' Daddies - Zoot Suit Riot
5. Barenaked Ladies - Stunt
6. Incubus - Make Yourself
7. Britney Spears - ...Baby One More Time
8. Third Eye Blind - Self-titled
9. Will Smith - Big Willie Style
10. Matchbox 20 - Yourself or Someone Like You
11. Eagle Eye Cherry - Desireless
12. Savage Garden - Self-titled

Some of these albums I only listened to for a little while before tucking them away, never to be played again. Others, though, would go on to define me a little bit. The albums by Matchbox 20, Savage Garden, Incubus, Vertical Horizon, are some of the most influential and nostalgic soundtracks of my life! I vividly remember listening to these songs in my room, back when listening to music was an activity by its own right—not just an afterthought. I remember soaking in the melodies and the lyrics and feeling like certain songs were written just for me. I don't get that feeling very often anymore. Isn't that sad? But occasionally I do, sometimes with newly discovered music, but more frequently with these cherished relics of my past.

I chose these CDs at random. They were completely influenced by whatever music I was hearing on the radio and/or my friends were listening to at the time. But when I listen to some of these albums today, they feel like a part of me that's engraved way down deep. Do you have any music like this? If so, how did you discover it? And do you still listen to this day?

Happy Anniversary(/ies)

I'm finding it hard to blog lately. My mind is consumed by the waiting game. 10 days ago, I had my third interview (and presented my second project) with the company for which David now works. I received positive feedback and was told they would be in touch within 10 days. Well, today is Sunday, so hopefully this week will bring news whether it be good or bad!

The problem is—well, I shouldn't say "problem"—the thing is that this isn't just a job, but thee job. The company is practically the anti-Abercrombie. The position I would have would be 100 times more creative than my previous one and infinitely more important (as the design team in this company is small and tight, as opposed to my last job in which hundreds of designers touched the product only to have it mutilated later by the merchants and/or directors). Anyway, I know I have to stay positive and not place all my eggs in one basket and all of that other stuff that I try to live by—but when you want something as bad as I want this, it becomes nearly impossible to uphold these virtues.

Really, though, I'm not here to write about my nerves. Two days ago marked my year anniversary of living here in Spain. In addition, it marked the first time David and I have been together for a year. There have been so many ups and downs between this:

June 17, 2010

Suite in Casanova Hotel

and this:

June 17, 2011

Picnic in Trinitat Vella Park

I decided to celebrate the occasion by surprising David after work with a picnic in a local park. It was so nice to lay on the grass and look up at the sky while reminiscing over the trials and triumphs over the past 12 months.

I feel like it'd be highly appropriate to do a really thorough recap post, much like I did for my 3 month anniversary, but I just don't have the mindset for it. Way back, when David was still with me in Columbus, we made a plan. That plan included being apart for a long time (which ended up being nine months in total), working hard, saving money, and eventually my moving to Spain. But the plan didn't end there. The final part of the plan concluded with both of us finding decent, permanent jobs and making enough money to support ourselves (with perhaps a little extra to go towards semi-frequent trips back to America!). David has upheld his end of the deal! He just got hired by a new company, with a permanent contract and better pay! Now it's my turn! I never thought a year would go by without my finding work, but here I am, and now that I'm so close, it's increasingly difficult to concentrate on all of life's other blessings!

Regardless of whether or not I get this job, something will come along soon, because, well, it just has to. When it does, despite having less time, I know I'll have more drive to write. I'll be able to focus on the numerous other post ideas I have brewing. Not to mention I'll feel like a valuable human being again. I'll have a real life which might even provide new stories to share! (If I blogged my day to day right now, the redundancy of posts like: "looked for jobs today—nothing promising—got really nervous—then became lazy—then got guilty about being lazy and started cleaning" would probably drive away more readers than I have to begin with).

Well, I'll wrap this baby up before I get too carried away. I can't even conclude properly, that's how frazzled this situation has me! If you made it this far, please wish me luck this week! And I promise as soon as I know something, I'll write and share!

NO FUMAR

Back in college, I read or heard somewhere that if you quit smoking by the age of 25, your lungs could eventually reverse all the effects of having been a smoker. I never looked into it any further, and I'm not entirely sure it holds any ground, but it became my mantra and my excuse. I could continue smoking until I turned 25, and then simply give it up.

Well, my 25th year came and went. But it was just too hard, smoking was part of my identity, one of the first character traits I developed the year I began to figure myself out. Not only that, but I seriously enjoy the act of smoking. Now I'm 26 and quite possibly going through one of those quarter-life crisis thingies. Bottom line: it's time for a change.

I've been toying with the idea of giving up the habit for months, but as I've told everyone around me who's expressed concern, I wasn't going to be successful until I was ready. I needed to be committed.

I got a pretty bad cold last week. It had me cut back to about one or two cigarettes a day. Any smoker can tell you that our colds last a bit longer than those of non-smokers. There's the duration of the bug and all its nagging symptoms, and then there's the relentless cough that carries on for at least a week after everything should be out of our system.

In the midst of a phlegm attack, lying in bed one night, I just decided that it was time. I wanted to be healthy again. I wanted to be able to run greater distances, climb stairs without getting winded and even hit some of those high notes Jason Mraz is constantly taunting me with, reminding me of my past glory. More importantly, with my bank account depleting so quickly and no sign of a job just yet, I don't want to spend another dime on a pointless bad habit. So I stopped.

It's day three. I still don't feel like a non-smoker. My poor lungs won't let me, and neither will my nerves. I feel almost crippled by my fragile emotional state and I am constantly coughing up phlegm. It's disgusting and painful. But It's part of the process, and so in essence, progress. Plus, I think I'm getting a pretty intense ab workout.

Anyway, I wanted deliver the memo here on my blog. That way the cat is out of the bag and I actually have to hold myself to it. Also, quitting isn't the only change I'm undertaking. Another important one is writing more. And if I have the will power to quit cold turkey, the simple act of writing more often doesn't seem so unobtainable, does it?

That's all for now, writing just makes me want a cigarette!

Surprise! Pt. 1

It's the evening of February 6th, 2011. I'm watching TV on the couch, where I've spent most of the day due to a lingering hangover from the bachelors' party the night before. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. I'm too dazed to notice that David has been washing the few dishes we'd used for dinner for a suspicious amount of time, so when he asks me to answer it, I hesitantly comply.

I look and feel disgusting and I'm not at all in the mood to tell the crazy, old lady who lives one building over that this is not, in fact, her apartment. I look through the peep hole, totally intending to ignore the situation if it is her. That's strange. All I see is... nothing. Someone is blocking the peephole. Naturally, my first reaction is "HOLY SHIT BALLS THEY WANT TO ROB US!". David is already coming around the corner, telling me to open the door. Finally, I do, but placing myself behind the door and David in plain sight of the potential axe murderer. Seconds pass, and neither him or the mystery guest say anything. David gestures for me to look, so I do. This is where my brain fries.

There are three figures standing in the doorway. My cousin Shelly is standing closest to me in the middle, but my mind can't process that at first, so it focuses on Sonia and Manuel, our cousins, standing behind her. My eyes bounce back to Shelly... and then back to Sonia and Manuel. As my brain fails to react to the situation, my body steps up. Apparently (and as you can see in the video below) my jaw drops as soon as I see Shelly. I'm talking and hugging as the pieces start frantically trying to force themselves together, but it seems like they're all from different puzzles.

The thing is, I was in 100% pure shock. Later, everyone told me that they were expecting and hoping that I would cry. But the thing is, how can you cry when you're not really there? I couldn't even make sense of the situation. With all of that shock and confusion, there's no room for emotion! Your brain just doesn't have the capacity!

It was hours before what had happened finally started to sink in in steady waves. I liked it that way. Imagine getting one of the best surprises of your life. Now imagine instead of having that surprise served to you at one fell swoop, having it dished out little by little over the course of several hours. Each time, it's heaven.

The excitement, along with the celebratory champagne... and then wine... gave us enough energy to stay up pretty late. I didn't want to go to bed, for fear of waking up and having it all been a dream. Plus I was just so damn excited to be sitting on my couch in Barcelona with one of my best friends in the world!

Have you ever had one of those mornings where you wake up from an incredibly realistic dream in which something amazing had happened only to be severely disappointed when reality sets in? Well the morning after was the opposite of one of those mornings. Shelly was staying in my home in Barcelona, and I had only had hours to process the idea! I was tired but excited to take her out into my world.

We checked out Las Ramblas and La Boquería market. Then we couldn't resist heading to the beach.

We settled on a nice little restaurant I like in Barceloneta. There we caught up while sipping sangría and enjoying some tapas. I'm so glad Shelly decided to go back to eating Seafood for the duration of the trip. Not doing so would be a travesty here in Barcelona where the seafood is so fresh and the tapas are to die for!

"Shelly, you're in Spain!" became the catchphrase of the day. There's something so special about having your friends experience Europe for the first time in your own city. There is something even more special about having someone you love make such a trek to be part of your wedding!

We spent a good amount of time over the next couple days wandering through the city, especially in the shopping district. Shelly was looking for a new dress to wear to the wedding. We made time to go on a run by the river Besós, which passes near my apartment. Shelly was concerned about halting her marathon training, so I humored her. I didn't manage the distance she's used to, but I think I did alright! Unfortunately my legs killed me for the next two days.

As the wedding week quickly came to its end, Shelly did an exceptional job of calming both David's and my nerves. I don't know what I would have done without her!

Come Thursday, I was smacked with a whole new surprise. A surprise, that is, for another post! Let's hope it doesn't take me three months to write that one!

Two Bachelors: One Party

David and I sat on the terrace, sipping wine and anxiously awaiting company. It was already half-past the time by which the "anonymous" voice had instructed us to be ready. The downtime was starting to get the best of us. It finally set in that in less than week, we would be married. I silently reflected on the months of planning that had lead up to this week. Tears flooded my eyes as I thought of how this "small, informal" event had transformed itself into what was to be our one and only big day. I explained to David through restrained sobs what had just occurred to me. In the beginning it was okay that I was doing this on my own. But now that it had become a big deal, I wasn't okay at all. The thought of going forward without the most important women in my life, the women who had been there for me through so much wouldn't be there for me when I needed them most. "I need Shelly or my mom or somebody here!" I plead. And then I quietly tried to make peace with the impossibility of this notion.

The "Cubelles group", all sporting penis hats, marched into our tiny apartment like a small—albeit loud—army. Gerard, Mark, Gloria, Edu, Elena, Cristina and Jordi gathered around our Ikea coffee table and began setting up a game that they had crafted themselves. We were informed that we had an itinerary to stick to. A truly eventful night was set in motion.

Lambrusco and an assortment of liquor was poured into cups and shot glasses as we picked our pieces and began a Peter & David-themed game: a hybrid of Chutes and Ladders, Cranium, Trivial Pursuit, Truth & Dare and every drinking game I've ever played. It was a race to get to the end of the board, that is: the wedding!

In good bachelor party spirit, this segment of the night was not without a few humiliating moments caught on film.

Before we could even complete the game, we moved onto a photo montage video they had put together. And then it was time for a second, less complicated game. This one was more my style. We were handed a giant box filled with newspaper, confetti and an assortment of small, wrapped gifts. Elena read off a number and then a "clue". We would then find the corresponding present and open it.

Before I forget, I have to explain the glorious accessory you see on David's head in these photos. A week or two prior, David and I were watching Sex and the City: The Movie. We had been hitting the wine pretty hard (as we're apt to do whenever Carrie Bradshaw is involved) and David turned to me to say "I want a bird for my wedding". He was, of course, referring to the blue headpiece that Carrie wore to her first and unsuccessful wedding. He made me promise I would find one. Well, I couldn't, so I had to settle for making one. He didn't know what to think when I handed him this deranged-looking concoction just hours before the party. Quickly, though, he began to wear it with pride!

Anyway, the gifts ranged from the mildly embarrassing to extremely thoughtful. We couldn't help but gorge on some cookies one of the boxes contained as we completed our task.

Before we knew it, we were late! For what? We had no idea, but we were ushered to the Metro where a third and final game was played. Drinks still in hand (God bless Barcelona!), we each had a notecard with a word or expression attached to our forehead, all of which had to do with our wedding. From there, to the delight of the fellow commuters, we went around in a circle asking questions in order to guess what word we were assigned.

Needless to say, it was a blast.

As we neared our stop, David and I were blind-folded. Our friends ushered us (an experience I will never forget as I was lead into several obstacles "by accident"), to our final destination. We were greeted by some "mystery guests", who were instantly identified as our cousins, Sonia and Manuel. They gave us a mini makeover while still blindfolded, and carefully maneuvered us into the location.

Obviously I wasn't pleased with said makeover. The surprise location was a VIP table at a swank restaurant with an impressive drag queen show! The dinner was great, the entertainment was better and the conversation was just to die for! We even had a great photo opp with Lady Gaga!

Well, through my drunken haze I suppose she was a bit more convincing. The host of the evening made "her" rounds, embarrassing the guests of honor at each VIP table. David seemed nervous to me as "she" interrogated us in the spotlight. Apparently, he was nervous, as he answered "America" when asked where we were going on our honeymoon. Lucky for him, I didn't remember that detail until he reminded me of it a week and a half later in Michigan! But now I vividly remember my crawling suspicion!

After dinner, we migrated to a popular gay nightclub where the party continued. It was seriously a bachelors' party to be envied, and I thank everyone that had a hand in it! My only wish is that they would have been there the next day to help clean up all the confetti that David had intelligently decided to toss all over the apartment!