Back to Barca

Once landed in Barcelona, I wasted no time in going to see Alex Nel and went straight from the airport to meet her and her parents for dinner, suitcase in toe! Having only seen her over Skype since our incredible 3 months in Paris, it was absolutely fantastic to see her again, as well as being able to put faces to the names and stories that she'd told me about her parents. We had a delicious Catalan meal by the port, and made plans to see each other again before she left to go back to Asturias, where she was working as a teaching assistant.

As my week at home running into the long Easter weekend, Tuesday coming round meant that it was back to the daily grind, with the added fun of being a commuter now that we had moved office. At the end of my 20 minute metro journey, I spotted a girl from work getting off the train ahead of me, and so was able to follow her to the office, nicely avoiding the difficult first navigation to work experience. However, once there I discovered that in the chaos of moving last week, my desk didn’t have a phone line put in it, which meant no internet nor access to the company programmes. In between lots of phone calls and trying to find various people, I had to spend most of the morning just twiddling my thumbs. I eventually found a desk I could work on (with a computer screen = massive bonus when working with spreadsheets all day as sooooo much easier to see everything than on a laptop screen!!). However, the desk is only free until 3pm, and so I am now a little nomadic in day to day life as every day after lunch I take my laptop with me and change desks!

On Wednesday evening, I met Alex and her parents again for dinner by the port as it was their last night. It was a lovely mild evening, I had a very yummy steak and it was great to see her again, although very strange to think that the next time will probably be back in Durham in October.

Reunited, albeit briefly!

Once I sat down and thought about it, I realised that I didn’t properly have any of my own friends here in Barcelona, which was a pretty overwhelming thought. In Paris and Salzburg, I essentially had it handed to me on a plate. I already knew people in Paris, plus was working with younger colleagues so they were easier to make friends with. In Salzburg, I met all of the other TA´s in the very first training week. Here I have lovely flatmates, which I am VERY glad for, but I don´t know anyone else on a YA here, and although everyone at work is very friendly, they all seem to be quite a lot older and so not as easy to connect with. Despite being a little taken aback by this realisation, I tried not to dwell on the negatives, and instead got straight down to trying to find a couple of tandem partners, as I figured that would be a great way to meet new people while working on my Spanish at the same time. I also worked out that I only actually had April to get through, as from May onwards I had lots of visitors to look forward to.

By the next day, Thursday, I had arranged my first tandem meet-up (it turns out there are lots of people in Barça keen to practice their English!). I went to meet him after work, and we did half an hour of English and half an hour of Spanish. Again, he was a little older (ie. married with a child!), but seemed friendly and so we arranged to meet at the same time next week. To be honest, it was just very nice to be doing something social independently. Things also seemed to be looking up at work on the social front, as since moving desk I had got to know a new group of people and I was now going for breakfast with them every morning. These guys were actually much much older (ie. near retirement…), but as my mother said, “Take what you can get!”. The huge bonus about getting to know this group is that they only speak Castellano, whereas a lot of other groups either constantly switch, or only speak Catalan with each other, and as they´re older they’ve got a bit more patience if I stutter over some words, which is helping my confidence when talking Spanish.

On Friday one of Raul's friends was DJing in a pretty exclusive club and we were going along to support him. We went for drinks first in 'La Obeja Negra' (The Black Sheep), which is themed like a German beer hall, and actually did the best beer I've had since arriving in Spain. After that we went to the club. We arrived early, at around 11pm, so that we could say hi to his friend before setting up etc, but it was absolutely dead in the club! We had a few drinks and around 1am the club slowly started filling up. The Spanish, true to the stereotype, are much better dancers than the English. They are a lot more relaxed on the dancefloor, plus have a lot more natural rhythm! I was encouraged to dance with them, but surrounded by people who can actually dance felt a lot more self conscious than usual and was quite reluctant to. I ended up leaving with Cecilia at around 3am, and we had a mad hunt through the rain for some food which, for such a big city, proved very difficult to find. We eventually find a little cafe still open near the house, bought some croquettas and empanadas, hungrily devoured them on the way home, and then fell straight asleep.

On Saturday I had a nice long lie-in, and then headed into town with my flatmates. As my flatmate Cecilia had just gotten back from her 3 weeks in Mexico, this was the first time we were all together as a flat. We went to one of their favourite places in the Gothic area, which is a little hole in the wall place called La Alcoba Azul.  It’s quite a narrow restaurant, with stone walls but a really cool atmosphere. They give you free tapas with every drink, as well as doing some great nachos and hummus which we shared to start before having our own main courses. That evening, I headed out into town with Cecilia, her boyfriend and his 2 friends from Germany. We had a nice night bar-hopping around the Gothic area, as well as a cheeky visit to my favourite shots bar.

On Sunday morning the flat got together to hit the town again, but this time quite literally, as we were headed to a PILLOW FIGHT. We got on the metro with our pillows in toe, and were a little worried we were going to be the only ones there, as no-one else had any form of even cushion with them. However, as soon as we got to Plaça Cataluña, it became clear that our fears were unfounded as there was music blaring, lots of screaming and feathers flying. It was absolutely hilarious; hitting strangers with pillows is seriously underrated! The ‘organisers’ had brought fog horns with them and when they sounded them everyone went really quiet, and then they sounded them again it was all arms up, pillows in the air and everyone went charging again. The funniest time was when they sounded it and really spontaneously everyone lay down on the ground and started to go to sleep with their pillows. I know the idea of a pillow fight with people you don´t know sounds strange, and I admit that I was sceptical at first, but it was genuinely a hilarious afternoon and I´d fully recommend going to one if you can! 

We went to an Irish pub for a couple of drinks after, and then Raul and I finished off the weekend with a nice KFC bucket.

Home and Easter 2013

My flight landed on Friday evening, and I spent most of Saturday and Sunday just chilling at home, indulging in some of my favourite TV programmes, catching up with my family, including my Auntie who had flown over from Australia and whom I hadn't seen for 2/3 years so that was lovely, and generally just enjoying some much needed TLC. Archie, our new Border Collie, with his endless energy was a welcome distraction as well, and I spent a lot of time playing with him too.

On Monday evening we headed down to Brighton in preparation for the funeral the next day. Our family from Sheffield had come down as well that night and it was lovely to see them, but the atmosphere did feel a little unusual given the circumstances. We had a really yummy Irish type stew for dinner, while talking about some of the funny things they'd found when sorting out the house over the past couple of weeks. One thing they'd found which made me laugh was a note I'd written to my grandad inviting him to a midnight feast. Apparently I'd written "Dear Grandad, we are having a midnight feast tonight in the middle bedroom and you are invited. We will  provide the snacks but please bring your own blankets", and he'd replied saying thank you for the invitation but that he thought it was a bit late for him. Bet he missed out..

Tuesday, as predicted, was difficult. There were lots of tears, although I was able to do a reading with my cousin at the church service. I'm very glad she did it with me, as I doubt I could have done it by myself. Afterwards we went to a hotel near the sea for the wake. There was a good number of people there, including grandad's friends and family from his church, his social club and Ireland. One of the saddest parts about it was that the person who would have enjoyed the after part the most, couldn't be there. We went back to the house for a little bit, and then out to dinner just with our family to one of grandad's favourite restaurants. Unusually for us, we ALL ordered pudding, but as grandad was never one to say no to pudding, especially if apple pie was on the menu, we figured that's what he would have wanted.

A rare 'Daly' family photo, complete with puddings!

I stayed in Brighton on Wednesday as well to go shopping with my two cousins from Sheffield. My cousin has just moved there for her job, and so it's nice that we'll still have a family connection there and reasons to visit, as I really like Brighton as a city. It has lots of quirky streets, lots of character, and, of course, the fresh sea air that you don't usually find in cities.

Once back home on Thursday I went into town to meet up with Katie and Christina for a coffee. Having basically not been home at all this year, I haven't been meeting up with them in the holidays like usual, so it's always great when we can see each other and spend a girly afternoon together with lots of gossip and catch ups. That evening my family went with our neighbours to a nearby Indian restaurant for an early birthday dinner for my mum and auntie (twins!). My Auntie was leaving for Australia the next day, on their actual birthday, although they still got the spend the morning together which no-one was expecting, and was quite a nice surprise for them both I think the way it worked out in the end. After the meal, Steve's train came in so I went to pick him up, and then we both drove back to the restaurant to pick up everyone else as I was designated driver for the evening so that the oldies could have some drinks!

On Friday there was a very teary goodbye to our Auntie as she left for the airport to go back to Austrialia, as we're sure it will be some time before we see her again. Steve and I did our own thing during the day, including taking Archie for a walk down by the river which was lovely. In the evening we made my mum a 3 course birthday meal, complete with place cards and the piece de resistance was stuffed chicken with roasted veg, which went down a treat.

On Saturday Steve and I ventured into town for a little and had a mooch, and then came back and took Archie on a huuuuge walk around the park. Given how much energy this dog has (he's on 5 walks a day at the moment!), I reckon we deserve huge credit for tiring him out, as at the end of the walk he was actually lying down and panting, rather than waiting expectantly for a new stick to be thrown as per. Another thing about Archie is that he's incredibly intelligent (or perhaps fickle), and so needs constant stimulation. In reality, this means constantly switching between throwing various sticks and balls, as if you throw the same thing for too long, he completely loses interest and refuses to pick it up again.

He's ready...

Finally worn out!

Easter Sunday was a very exciting day, as as well as waking up to lots of Easter Eggs, it was the Oxford Cambrige Boat Race, and Steve's brother (who stands at a staggering 6'10", and has the nickname 'Tall Paul') was racing in the Oxford boat! Undeterred by the snow (in March!), we went to Putney to meet his parents and spent the morning on the riverbank before going up into the Oxford boathouse to watch the actual race. The atmosphere was amazing as Oxford won, and apart from actually in the boat there probably wasn't a better place to be at that moment than in the clubhouse with their whole squad! We also managed to   make it onto the background of the bbc when the rowers were walking to the boat and they were doing the profile of each one, so we are now, to all intents and purposes, famous as well.

That evening we all got dressed up and went to the Oxford Boat Club black tie dinner, held in a very fancy country club nearby. There was a drinks reception before we took our seats for dinner. The Blues, both old and new (the rowers!) are in one room, and family and friends in another. On our table I was sat near an American girl, so trying to make conversation I went in with a pretty safe question and asked her if she rowed. Her reply was, "I dabble", before she delved into her clutch bag and brought out nothing less than an OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL from London 2012!! It transpires she 'dabbles' in the USA Women's 8, and has golds from both London and Beijing, as well as a silver from Athens. I wish I could dabble as successfully as she does... After a delicious 3 course meal, the friends and family were reunited with the rowers. In our room we'd all had about half a bottle of wine each, whereas in the other it seemed that the Grey Goose had been flowing and so we were greeted with a very rowdy group of rowers on the other side! It was really cool to get the meet the members of the squad, and they all seemed really nice, if a little worse for wear. We left with Steve's parents in time for Steve and I to get the last train home to Staines, but it was a really great evening. Definitely a once in a lifetime experience, so I'm very glad I got to be a part of such a long standing English tradition.

The dabbler and her medal

With Steve and his parents

Monday came around, which meant lots of packing and goodbyes before heading back to Barcelona. I could easily have stayed at home a couple of weeks longer, but I knew that I would only make things more difficult for myself if I didn't jump straight back onto the horse, as it were. Plus, I knew that Alex Nel would be waiting for me there, which made saying goodbye infinitely easier, knowing we would soon be reunited on the other side!

Crumble, Comida y Chupitos.

As this was my 3rd week of work, by now I was well and truly into the swing of my main project at work. The description is most likely going to be a little dull, so feel free to skip to the next paragraph. I was essentially chasing up all unpaid premiums, sometimes dating back as far as 2011. I had 3 different templates to use, depending on if the client was through a broker, direct, or through Zurich in another country. I had to check through all the documentation of each policy, to make sure that I didn´t chase something we weren’t actually owed, and some of the policies were very complex so this could take a while. Once I’d got the hang of it and made a proper system for keeping track of everything, including payment reminders and involving other branches of Zurich when necessary if they weren’t coughing up, it ultimately came down to quite a lot of just copying and pasting policy details to put together the e-mails. I was happy to have a task with some responsibility, especially as it involved lots and lots of correspondence in Spanish, although admittedly I did shy away from phone calls at the beginning, much preferring to send e-mails, as answering the phone in another language to an actual important client is very scary, particularly when you aren´t used to it!

On Monday morning, there was a ‘solidarity’ breakfast at work. People were either encouraged to bring something in to share, or to pay a small contribution to join in, with the proceeds going to charity. As my culinary skills are somewhat limited (to say the least!), I opted for something quintessentially British, that also happens to be very easy to make, the classic apple crumble. I made a big one and saved half for my housemates and took half to work. It seemed to go down well and was finished off, but a lot of people did ask me what it actually was. Hopefully that’s just because they’ve never come across it before rather than because it didn’t resemble a crumble…

Educating the Mexicans in the way of the British crumble

That evening, Raul said he had a ‘surprise’ planned and that I had to be free at 9pm. It turned out that the Irish pub around the corner, Michael Collins (directly opposite the Sagrada Familia… just saying!), had a traditional music night every Monday with a live band. We managed to bag ourselves some free Guinness hats as well, that were left over from St Patrick’s Day yesterday. Apparently some people even go around taking these hats out of the bins and start selling them for 5 pounds a pop! I actually do really like Irish music, but this group were playing quite slow songs, and as my grandad always always had Irish music playing in his house, it started to bring back lots of memories, making me quite sad, so I was fine to go home after just a couple of drinks.

The rest of the week was pretty uneventful. Friday came around quickly, and we had a very short day at work as we were packing everything up. Having put ‘close to work’ as one of my top priorities during the house hunt, needless to say it came as quite a shock when I was told in my 2nd week of work that this office was going to be renovated over the next 3 months, and we would only return for my last 2 weeks in Spain. You can’t plan everything I suppose, and the new office, although not walking distance, is at least direct on the metro and also only a 10 minute walk from the beach! We were done by midday and allowed to go home as literally everything had been packed up and there was nothing left to do.

I spent the afternoon sleeping and packing, ready to spend next week at home. I then got ready for the evening and went into the centre to meet IZZY and her parents, who were in Barcelona for the weekend! We went out for dinner and had amazing tapas. Amazing amazing amazing. It was the first time I’ve tried proper tapas in Spain, and there just are no words. The patatas bravas, in particular, were incredible. Her parents were really kind and treated me to dinner, which I completely wasn’t expecting. After a litre of sangria with dinner we were feeling quite tipsy, and so said good night to her parents and went into the gothic area to meet my housemates. We went to quite a few bars, and spent a long long time in the shots bar that I’d first gone to last weekend. They even had a shot called Isabel, which of course we had to try, plus one called ‘Harry Potter’ which I wouldn’t recommend…. far too sticky. We then went to a couple of clubs and at 4am I decided to call it a night as my alarm was set for 8am the next morning and I did not want to miss my flight.

Pointing to the 'Isabel'

It was so lovely to see a familiar face out here, and I had a great night showing her the Barcelona nightlife. I was, however, very groggy at the airport the next morning, and came out with a surprisingly manly voice when my mum and aunt picked me up from the airport.

Once landed in England I was ultimately very glad to be home, and looking forward to spending time with my family, as that was what I’d wanted to do more than anything for the past 2 weeks.

Mi casa

Although it had been a tough week, the show must go on, and Friday coming around again meant not only a nice 3pm finish, but also that it was time to re-pack my suitcase and (finally) move into my flat! (To give this post a quick time reference, Friday was the 15th March).

On my way home from work I picked up the ingredients for an apple crumble, that I had planned on making the family as a thank you gift, and a couple of bottles of nice wine - one for the family and one for my new flat. After napping, making the crumble and packing it was already pushing 9pm. I said goodbye to the family and left with an open invite to come back to their house, and then they gave me a lift to my new abode.

I was moving into a flat with 3 other people, which is on the main road that goes through the city, and the same road as work (although due to the grid system and ridiculously long roads this still meant a 20 minute walk either way). The flat isn't particularly modern, but it's got everything you'd need and is nice and spacious, not to mention I've got my own little bathroom and balcony! The housemates are 2 Mexicans - Raul, a doctor, who is in his early 30s (although you definitely wouldn't be able to tell, he's still very young at heart!), and a girl, Cecilia who is 26/27 and works just outside the city, as well as a 24 year old girl from Cyprus, Burcu, who would only be here for the next month.

I had a little time to unpack before heading out to dinner with the 2 Mexicans, and one of their friends. We went to Gracia, an area which is about 15 minutes away. As there are no big monuments, it's got a lot more of a 'local' feel, as the tourists don't tend to go there as much. It's basically lots of little streets with tons of bars and cafes, it has a really lively and 'cool' (for lack of a better word) atmosphere. After trying a couple of restaurants that had huge queues, we settled for a Syrian restaurant. It was the first time I'd eaten Syrian, which I found quite similar to Greek, and very enjoyable! It was nice to start getting to know my housemates as well, especially as the girl was going to Mexico for 3 weeks the next morning so I wouldn't be seeing her for a while. We only stayed out for one drink after as she had to get back and get ready, and to be honest I was fine with that as I was knackered after such an exhausting week. I unpacked a tiny bit more and then fell asleep to the traffic outside my window (something I would now have to get used to living on a main road!).

After a huge shop to get all the basics in on Saturday morning, Raul took it upon himself to be my tour guide for the afternoon and we headed into the centre. We managed to cover most of the important buildings (from the outside anyway) and he knew lots of little facts about the areas we were walking round so it was a really interesting afternoon. This was my first proper time in and around the city, and I have to say that first impressions were very good. Although the city is not as breath-taking as some parts of Paris, nor as picturesque as Salzburg, it definitely has its own charm. In particular I fell in love with the barrio góthico (the gothic area), and I think that above all it is city’s atmosphere that is most appealing. For lack of a better word, it just seems ‘cool´. The size of the city means that is less intimidating than Paris, but that there is also a lot more going on than Salzburg, so it would seem I have found my happy medium for the last main leg of the Year Abroad.

We stayed out quite late in the end, so only had time for dinner and a quick change before heading out to meet some of Raul’s course friends from his Masters for a few drinks. Most of them were from Mexico, and I actually find that accent easy enough to understand. One girl, however, was from Chile. We tried really hard for about 5 minutes to have a conversation but I couldn’t get a single thing she was saying, and she didn’t speak English either so we mutually came to the conclusion that we just wouldn’t be able to talk that night. We went to about 3 different bars, and then called it a night at around 2am, as we were getting up at 8am the next morning for a day trip. One of the bars we went to, one which I would end up frequenting a lot, is called ‘Espit Chupitos’. I absolutely love this place. They have over 200 shots, each come with different instructions and are €2 each. Needless to say it is too easy to keep on ordering, especially as they are so much fun. This night I was introduced to the ‘nipple’, which is a shot covered by a piece of orange with whipped cream on top. The instructions are to lick, eat and drink with no hands. Amazing.

Cheeky kebab on the way home...

The next morning we woke up feeling a little groggy and so headed via Starbucks on our way to the train station. We met another of Raul’s friends from Mexico, and her friend from Germany. We travelled to Tarragona, a small town about an hour and a half south of Barcelona, to meet up with their friend (also from Mexico… at this point it looks clear that I am set to be in Mexican circle of Barcelona!) who is living there. Unfortunately the weather was pretty miserable so we headed to a café first to have a drink and see if it would clear up. It didn’t, so we ended up braving the rain to have a look around. It’s a very small town, but very pretty. It is right on the coast and there are lots of Roman ruins around, including the remains of a colloseum, where we bumped into a parade of ‘Roman’ soldiers marching along in proper outfits with drums and everything. After we’d seen everything, and I was able light a couple of candles in the Cathedral, we headed to the main square, Plaça Del Font (Fountain Square, which really merits its name… see picture below) for a typical Catalan meal. Raul had bulls tail, which I was sceptical about to say the least, but it genuinely tasted really nice! On the way back to the station we stopped and walked around an old Roman aqueduct as well. After a few delays, we got our train back to Barcelona after a lovely day exploring a very cute little town.

The fountain, after which the Placa del Font is named!

The main square

As it was St. Patrick´s Day, Raul and I headed out to meet his Mexican friends from the night before for a few drinks, as we couldn’t let it go uncelebrated, especially with my Irish roots! They were in one of the coolest bars I think I’ve ever seen. It was basically an indoor forest, with little waterfalls and everything. My pictures don’t really do it justice, it´s really cool!! We only stayed until about midnight as I was keen to get a good night’s sleep before starting another week at work the next morning.

After last week, it was nice to be kept busy all weekend, and I was glad that my first impressions of my housemates didn’t seem wrong – although only Raul was in the house that weekend, he had invited me to lots of things and really helped me settle in, which I appreciated a huge amount. Although my Spanish is still getting there, with this many Mexicans around the only way has to be up, so looking forward to progressing with that as well!

:(

Before starting posts, I usually have a general idea of what I'm going to write about/how I'm going to say it. I've given this one a lot of thought, and still not got anywhere closer to knowing, so have decided to just start writing it and see what comes out.

Monday morning was the usual Monday morning routine, although I did feel pretty achy after skiing the day before. As I didn't have an e-mail address yet to start with my big project, I was again helping with the admin jobs, and getting to know their systems better. Tuesday's working day was much the same. I then started my proper project on Wednesday, which I will write more about next time.

On Tuesday my mum Skyped me as soon as I was home, and had to tell me that my grandad had passed away during the day, which was a huge shock.

I know that I've been very lucky as my grandad had been a huge part of my life. We saw him every weekend as children, he stayed with us at home a lot, and came on almost every trip to Ireland as well, so I've got lots of lovely memories with him. I realise that however long I think about it and however much I rephrase, nothing I write on here could really do justice to those years of memories, and I'm really just very glad that I got to spend as much time and have as much fun with him as I did.

The news was especially hard to deal with being in essentially completely new surroundings and so far away from home. I was very glad that I was staying with the family, as they were really nice to me when I was upset, and I can't even imagine how I would have felt if I was staying in a hotel by myself as was the original plan before moving in to my flat.

The rest of the week passed in a blur, with lots of biscuits and then baths in the evening. I carried on going to work, more to make sure I had a distraction during the day than anything else, and they were very accommodating with me organising to go home in a fortnights time as well. I could feel myself being withdrawn in the office, and ordinarily I would have given myself a hard time for not making the most of the opportunity and continue getting to know my colleagues, but I had to let myself off. The only other thing I remember about that week was opening a bank account on the Friday. My boss had been really helpful and not only set up an appointment for me, but also came with me. I managed to do the majority of it myself, and only had to ask him for clarification once or twice, which I was proud of. I did have an embarassing moment walking out of the bank though, where I went to thank them and "Gracias noch mal" came out...clearly the transition from German to Spanish wasn't going quite as smoothly as I thought.

It was a very tough week, but I suppose that's part and parcel of the Year Abroad, which is why I'm including it as a blog post, although it's a lot more personal than usual. I got through it, but at the end I wanted nothing more than a big hug from my family.