New York to Barcelona

Flying to Iceland: I didn´t sleep. At all. I read a book and wrote in my paper journal. Watching the sunrise from the airplane was incredible, and it reminded me of the last time i went to Barcelona, being on a train from Seville and unable to sleep. I was very annoyed about it, but the train tracks went right along the Mediterranean and i saw a most incredible sunrise - it was worth it, as was this one. I regretted that the battery in my camera was dead and i couldn´t take a photo! Landing, i saw the landscape of Iceland, which is about the size of Kentucky. The area around Rekyavik was very, very flat for the most part, but then out of nowhere there would be a huge, rocky mountain. The flat areas looked like what i imagine moors to look like. Lots of long grass. Then, the flat areas would drop very suddenly into the ocean. It was beautiful, and stark. The language, Isklenska, is very interesting and impossible to decipher. I read that their language is so pure that most Icleanders can read ancient Viking texts. Wow! So i was there for about an hour, and spent the rest of my American money buying fruit. The plane from there to Paris was packed with French teenagers. They must have been on a school trip to the US or something. They were very loud and the girl behind me was very put out when i leaned my chair back, being so exhausted at that point that i really was ready to sleep.

Paris: I took the metro from Charles de Gaulle (where it had taken forever to get my bags) to the Gare d´Austerlitz, the train station for all southbound trains. There, i changed my ticket to an earlier, direct, and less expensive train to Barcelona. And i did it entirely in French - not having spoken regularly since i graduated, it felt like quite the accomplishment. Unfortunately, after the sleepless flight, i wasn´t up for much exploring of Paris, so i sat in the train station and watched people and read my book and listened to people. The Gare d´Austerlitz is quite beautiful.

RENFE to Barcelona: The RENFE is the Spanish train network. My train left Paris at 8:30, and i was in a sleeper car with two other American girls who were travelling before starting internships in Italy. They were very amusing. The conductor was the only one who could put down the beds, which were folded up into the wall. He couldn´t get there fast enough! I was so excited to get into a real(ish) bed and have a full night´s sleep. He finally arrived, and i crawled into bed, put my earplugs in, and the next thing i knew, the door was flying open, and the conductor was shouting, Media hora a Barcelona! (Half an hour to Barcelona)

Barcelona to Sant Boi: I´d assumed i´d have wireless in the train station in Paris. That hadn´t been the case, so i arrived in Barcelona without the phone number and address of my hostess. Oops! So i had to schlep all my stuff around until i found a wireless hot spot. The first challenge, however, was finding the metro. The tourist map i´d gotten at the train station had big blue M symbols all over it. Obviously that meant metro; so i headed for the nearest one on the map and searched and searched and found nothing. Only after asking someone where the nearest metro was did i realize that the big blue Ms indicated museums, and the metro was marked with tiny little black and white Ms inside diamonds. Of course, how silly of me. By then i was hot and tired and dehydrated, so i searched fruitlessly for water, finding only vending machines and having only a 50€ note - the smallest i´d been able to get from the ATM. I wished for a sherpa. Eventually i got to the central train station (Sants Estació), many metro stops away from the one i´d arrived at. There, i found wireless, called Yara, and was soon on my way to Sant Boi. I got on the wrong train at first, and had to retrace my steps back to Sants. But then i got on the right one, and soon Yara was picking me up at the train station in Sant Boi, and we were on our way to her house with her dog.