A weekend to forget

I'll start out with a brief bit about last weekend for contrast and because it was a pretty good Sunday after Scuba diving Saturday. I got to sleep in till like 11 and then I met up with James, Helena, Richard, and Carlito and we all went to this restaurant on the beach in Masnou that has really good paella. It was a great afternoon just hanging out, eating good food and having some...I don't remember what they are called, but it’s a beer with I think like lemon fanta in it, but it’s pretty good. I got to talk to Richard alot, seeing how he doesn't speak and Spanish, and he's a really interesting guy. He is working in Jordan teaching kids on a US military base, but he himself isn't at all in the military. Being there he has a pretty unique view of international relations, and the war, and government and politics in general. He also had a few cool stories about meeting different Queens, and some mercenaries, and all kinds of crazy things.

After hours at this restaurant eating paella and hanging out we went back over to Helena's apt and it was nice just to hang out, and talk, and watch TV with friends. Its simple stuff like that that I've kinda missed since coming here. All and all a really nice day and after watching the Simpsons in Spanish I decided to head home and was asleep by about 1030, anther glorious addition to the day.

Now, I had to get that down in order to move on to this weekend, specifically last night. I will warn you all now that this story will most likely make you laugh, cry, and question how it is I have managed to keep myself alive to the ripe old age of 22.

The day started out nicely and productive with my first hair cut in Spain, which went surprisingly well. I pretty much hate getting my hair cut mostly because of the forced small talk with chatty hair cutting ladies...but this isn't near the problem as soon as they realize you don't speak the language. Also the haircut turned out well so I was feeling pretty good about that. I spent awhile debating how to spend my day, and decided I'd head over to Barcelona and see what there is to see and maybe try to buy a book or somethin.

It takes me about an hour to actually get there because they are doing something with the train lines or something, and I couldn't take the direct route that I normally do and it took me awhile and a bit of back pedaling to actually get to Barcelona, but I did get to see the pretty nice main train station in Barcelona that I hadn’t been to yet. So I got there and wandered about for a bit. I finally figured out where the black sheep bar was, although it was closed when I got there cause it was only about 5 in the afternoon. So I walked down las ramblas, and entertained ideas of walkin down to the beach but its pretty far and would take alot of time, and I needed to find a place to exchange my last American hundred dollars before I did much of anything. So I did that, and walked down to the harbor for a bit, and had some tapas and did some people watching. I eventually ended up back at El basc de les fades, bar place around 93o (I know there is a big chunk of time missing but it was mostly walking around and playing foosball by myself). I ordered up some sangria and took a seat to relax and rest my feet and immediately picked up on some American speak behind me. After about a minute I go ahead and swing my chair around and introduce myself to the random English speaking folk. We talked for about an hour or so which was cool but pretty uneventful.

Then they had to leave, and it was about time I head back home anyway so I don't have to worry about getting stranded in Barcelona when the train stops running. So I head back and spend some time staring at the posted signs about the weird train situation and figure out I actually have to take a different train to another station to switch trains and then go home....Now this is the point of my evening that life starts to go downhill...although I don't know it yet.

I hop on the little packed subway with alot of other people who seem visibly irritated with the train situation being all screwed up. I ride the train as more and more people get off and I wait for the station I'm looking for....which never comes. I end up riding the train till the last stop in a place called Sabadell and get off and try to figure out what I did wrong, which now seems so simply obvious that I was on the right track but going the wrong way. Its only 11:30 so there should be plenty of time to catch the train going back the other way. However, it quickly becomes obvious that the train station here shuts down earlier than in Barcelona. So I head about ground to look for a cab or bus back to Barcelona so I can hopefully catch one of the last trains back to Premia.

I emerge on what I begin to call the Sabadell Circle of hell. It’s just a big roundabout, but I end up walking around the dame thing 3 times because there are signs pointing to Barcelona but they don't really line up with the exits and I'm trying to position myself between the circle of hell and Barcelona so I can find a bus or something goin that way. Eventually I give up with that and wait at a taxi stop and pray I have enough money to get back there. I end up kinda stealing some guy’s cab by accident and then spend a little time trying to explain that I need to go the Placa de Catalunya (The train station in Barcelona that can take me home). The guy keeps asking if I mean Parca, or placa...I think that’s what he was asking. Anyway I think we have finally figured it out and he drives and then points at an empty park. A little annoyed I try to explain that I need to go to Barcelona to catch a train. He thinks about it a minute and starts diving while he explains he will take me to the bus that goes to Barcelona. Cool, no problem we get there and I pay him and I hop out and start looking of a bus schedule or something when a bus shows up. I hop on and look at the time, I'm not exactly sure how far away we are but I figure there is still a chance I can catch the last train out, otherwise I'll just get like a 12 euro hostel in Barcelona and go back in the morning. We wait for a little while and a few more people hop on and we head of, stopping and picking up some loud annoying kids at one point that start running up and talking to the driver while he’s driving and being annoying. At one point we sat at a stop for like ten mins while the kids and the driver yelled at each other about something and I think he was trying to kick them out.

All I knew was that the annoying kids were ruining my chance to make it back home and if I had had any idea what was goin on I would have kicked them off myself for being little shits. Eventually we get going again and make a few more stops and by this point I've just kinda zoned out staring out the window and listing to music on my Zune. That is until the bus driver comes up and starts talking to me and I realize the bus in empty and I catch the phrase "este es el ultima parada" translation: this is the last stop. So I get out and realize very quickly this is not Barcelona.

I look around a bit hoping everyone from the bus may head in a common direction that may lead to a main part of town and I can try to get a taxi home. Unfortunately they all pretty much scatter so I figure I better just pick a direction and go. Honestly at this point I am lunar navigating around this place trying to find a cab. Every now and then I find a street sign and some say Barcelona and Placa de Catalunya on them so I'm hoping I'm close and try to fallow them, but not many streets are well marked. So I leave the moon to my back and start walking.

And I walk....and I walk. It’s actually a really nice night and not really all that late, and I have my music goin so I'm just tryin to keep myself from goin in circles and fallow the randomly placed signs. I'm in a pretty nice neighborhood and there are some nice hilltop views and such. And I walk....FINALLY! I find Placa de Catalunya....the same park the taxi had taken me to before the bus stop. A little disheartened I walk through the empty park which is nice and even has a creepy swan in a pool staring at me. And I walk on...

I listen to music and walk. I walk out of the nice neighborhood. I walk past a Sony industrial warehouse....and I walk. I come to a crossroad with no signs or clues and I walk...I leave the building and end up on a road fallowing the one sign that had something about a train station and Barcelona. I eventually end up walking along what in the daytime I'm sure is a busy road with forest on either side...and I walk. I'm getting tired. It's getting late. I hit a bridge with a narrow walkway that scares the hell out of me and I stare at my feet and try not to look at the ground very far below me as I keep a death grip on the railing. And I walk...

I find a bus stop on a hill overlooking some lights, buildings, civilization. It is 3:3o in the morning. I have been walking for over 3 hours. My legs ache and my feet are scraped up from walking along the grass and rocks in my sandals. I sit down. My feet are pounding. I am only sitting a minute and get up and my legs stain against me. They are already cramping. I find the bus schedule. No busses till 5:45. I look down the hill at the lights, and I walk.

My zune stops playing and gives me the low battery sign and I turn it off. I walk in silence and listen to the sound of wind and the road as distant cars dive home at this late hour. I am passing more buildings and see what looks to be a busy well lit area up ahead and I hope to find something promising. I come around the corner and stop. I laugh to keep from screaming...It’s the circle of hell. The same one I had left 5 hours ago so hopeful I was on my way home. If I had been in a car I could have driven to France in this much time. I should probably stay here and find a cab but I don't want to look at the place so I walk. I find the main road heading toward Barcelona. My right knee started hurting hours ago but now I'm limping as my left leg cramps from trying to take the weight off my right. I find a gas station and buy a bottle of water and a sandwich. Now in the light I look down and realize my left hand is completely black....it’s from the bridge, dirt from the handrail I wouldn't let go of for anything. I carefully open the gas station sandwich so not to touch it with my diseased looking hand. I'm so tired. As I walk away a cab full of loud drunken Spaniards pulls into the station for gas. I stare. It's my cab. The cab driver filling up the tank is the same one who should have taken me to Barcelona 5 hours ago. I turn and walk away.

Finally, I find train tracks...either way I go must lead to a station. I'm hopeful. But it's not long before the train tracks diverge from the road and I cannot fallow. I walk through a roundabout, with trees in the middle of it and find a sign. It doesn't really help. I keep walking past car dealerships and eventually hit another gas station. It's locked by the guy is still in there. I'm almost to out of it to put a sentence together but I ask about a train to Barcelona and he speaks in rapid fire Spanish and points back the way I came and then makes a big hook motion with his hands...I get the idea and head back. I'm disoriented. Everything looks familiar but not enough so that I can get a barring on where I am. I briefly find the train tracks again, but am forced to cross a road, and avoid a tunnel. My legs and mind are Jell-O. I walk. I figure I'll ask someone else at the next gas station I see. I walk. I come around another corner in and endless night of corners and I nearly collapse.....I found a gas station. It is the same gas station I had gotten bad directions from 40 minutes ago. I've somehow made a huge circle and I just stare in disbelief at the now empty station.

I do the only thing I can and turn around. I find those tracks again. At one point there are stares going over a short bridge. I climb them....slowly. At the top I look out over the maze I have been walking through. I see the train station. No more than a hundred yards away. All lit up, empty but lit. I shuffle toward it slowly like a zombie in the B grade horror movie I feel I am trapped in. I get there. Train Station to Barcelona. I go to buy a ticket and just start shoving change into the machine praying I have enough. I have exactly 1.85. The cost of a ticket. I go down to the tracks and sit down and take my sandals take my sandals off so I can examine my now black feet. I have a dirt tan line where the strap is but its not white underneath, it’s red and swollen. I check my phone for the time. Its 5 am. I've been walking for nearly 6 hours. The train doesn't come for another 30 mins. I look at my Zune. It turns on but gives me the battery warning. I put on "Alice’s Restaurant" because it's long and makes me smile and takes my mind off my night. The train finally comes.

I stumble on. I can barely walk after sitting and I try to stretch out my legs. Each stop brings more loud drunk young Spanish kids from local clubs. I few especially annoying guys are screaming and chanting and singing. I finally....finally get to Barcelona. I emerge up the stairs as if reaching the summit of Everest exhausted and excited staring up at the morning sky with the sun just coming up. I look around. This is Barcelona. But it is not Placa de Catalunya. I don't know where I am. Again.

I walk down the street and soon get an idea of where to go. The walk is slow and painful but I find where I am going. I go down into the familiar station where I know right where the ticket machines are and go through the gates where I know exactly where I'm going to sit and wait for the train. Then I see the signs...all the signs reminding me why I ended up this way in the first place. I can't take my familiar train home. I stare confused at the sign and a lady comes up who works there, "Donde vas?". I struggle to answer and she asks "English?" thank god she speaks some English. She tells me I will have to take the L1 underground to Clot, then get on a train to Mataro. I walk out of my familiar gate over to where the big red L1 line was and I stop once again and have a bit of a flashback. This is the exact spot. The spot that if I had taken a little extra time I would have realized that I need to walk left instead of right. I look at the time. 6:3o, I was in this exact spot 7 and a half hours ago making a simple mistake that would send me to the Sabadell circle of hell. I take a left.

The Clot station is confusing and I end up going up and down the same flight of stairs 3 times before I manage to find where the right part of the station is. A lady helps me but then accidentally closes a gate on me as I try to walk through. I finally find the train that will take me home. I sit down and feel the blood rush into my feet so that I can feel my heart beat in the souls of my shoes. I reach for my phone to check the time....my phone is gone. It must have fallen out of my pocket on the last train, or maybe I dropped without realizing getting my ticket to show the lady so that she could close the gate on me. I don't care. I just want to be home and in bed.

I drift in and out of sleep all the way to Premia. Every 5 mins I am woken up by the door alarms at every stop screaming at me. I get to my stop and stand up and my legs don't work. I can barely move but I stumble out and stare out over the water with the sun coming up and a cool breeze blowing. I head for the stairs. Another coincidence. The guy coming up the stairs a little drunk is the same guy who stands on the corner and waves to us everyday as we go to work. He doesn't recognize me but I smile. These coincidences all night have made me wonder if someone up there is working hard to get me home, or just laughing my endless stream of stupidity.

The walk home from the train feels like it takes another 7 hours. I get to my apt. I open the front door. I go up the elevator. I let myself into my empty place. I make myself take a shower, and clean my feet. I find there are blisters on the bottoms of them underneath all the dirt. I stumble out of the shower and go to my bed. I close the metal window cover so that it will be pitch black in my room. I look at my computer just long enough to get the time. It is 8:3o. I've been trying to get home for almost 10 hours. I close my laptop and the room goes dark and I am asleep.







Wow. Ya know the whole time I was walking last night I was kinda thinking about this and narrating it to myself as I went but it was scary to write it out. It was such a ridiculous, terrible adventure. It is now midnight on Sunday and I have spent the entire day in my dark room happy as a clam so sleep and poke around the internet and watch movies. My legs are unbelievably sore but I keep trying to stretch them out a bit. Mom and Dad I know when you read this you will worry as you probably should. If nothing else I will be more careful reading train station signs from now on and if I'm ever lost again, I'm not getting out of a taxi unless it is dropping me off at home, I don't care how much it costs. And don't worry, I'm never going to Sabadell again as long as I live.