Inevitably, my time in beloved Barcelona has come to an end. This morning, before my flight, I woke up early to squeeze in one last adventure…the Sagrada Familia (that huge, beautiful church, Gaudi's most famed creation). And wow, did I save the best for last. Keep in mind I'm not a religious person (spiritual, thanks very much), but when I walked in, after waiting a relatively short 40 minutes in line, I was OVERCOME. Otherworldly is the only word I can use to describe this place.

Take a look at my pictures, but as always, they don't do the Sagrada Familia justice. I mean, when Gaudi does religion, he does religion. It truly blows my mind that the church is still under construction, meaning they must be working off plans that the great man himself put together (or models, I suppose, since we know that Gaudi didn't do plans). In any case, it was a great sendoff, and I rushed back to the hotel to grab my bags and catch my flight to Prague.

I suppose the real sendoff was my creepy cab driver, who I initially thought just wanted to help me practice my Spanish. Mid-conversation, I realized he was trying to convince me to pull over and get a beer with him, since I had two hours until my flight. That was awkward…it's only the second time on this trip, traveling alone as a woman, that I've felt uncomfortable. 

The first was walking up the hill at Montjuic Parc to the castle…a man parked his car, got out, and stopped me. He started speaking to me in Spanish, then English, and informed me that he was from Brazil and practices energy reading, and noticed some negative energy on my left shoulder. He wanted me to let him do a reading on me. Being the hippie that I am, I was of course curious, but I heard my best friend's voice in my head scolding me ("JESSICA…"), so I turned him down and walked away. Quickly.

In any case, made it to the airport, which to my delight was fantastic like everything else in Barcelona (great shopping). Some Euros down the drain later-oops!-I boarded my flight to Prague. It was bittersweet leaving, of course. If I thought I was falling in love with New York two weeks ago, well, Barcelona may just be the love of my life. But you know what they say…if you can't be with the one you love, hope and pray that someday you'll be rich enough to own a timeshare. Or something.

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Barcelona, city #3 recap:

Weather: Sunny, warm bliss

Favorite place(s) visited: The beach cafe, Barri Gotic (really cute, fun area with lots of bars and restaurants), Sagrada Familia

Best meal: Tapas are cool and all, but I didn't have any that BLEW my mind. Food wasn't really the focus of my Barcelona experience. I did have some incredible fried, cheese-filled jalapeños at a Mexican-ish restaurant, weirdly enough

Street style: Edgy, tailored, body-hugging, lots of leather jackets 

Stand-out features: Attractive people, anything Gaudi, pristine beaches, SO MUCH TO DO

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After a two hour Czech Airlines flight over some lovely snow-capped mountain ranges (including the Dolomites, if that rings a bell), I arrived in Prague. With, of course, no clue how I was going to get to my hotel. I was SO OVER cab drivers, and needed to be a bit more economical, so I hit up a BUS-TRAIN-TRAM info booth at the airport. A very nice man who reminded me of Alexsandr Petrovsky from Sex and the City (the old Russian guy Carrie got with right before she got back with Mr. Big-SPOILER ALERT!) broke it down for me.

I'm honestly amazed by European public transportation. It's so easy, so fast, and so frequent! All I had to do was hop onto a bus that picked up directly outside the baggage claim, then transfer to the metro which took me essentially straight to my hotel. I know hearing me blabber about public transportation probably isn't that interesting, but I just have to stress it because it's made my trip so much easier. It's also empowering, in a way, to navigate the metro in a strange city. At least for me.

So, Prague. I emerged from the metro a little disoriented, because I truly felt as though I'd stepped into a different world. I found myself in a plaza, surrounded by serious, Gothic-looking buildings. It was dusk and the air was extremely crisp…here it really is Fall, unlike sunny Spain. I was looking for a street called "Hybernska", where the Best Western Plus I booked two days ago was located. Luckily, I've learned to read a paper map (Dad, take note) over the past two weeks, and Alexsandr had circled my destination for me. 

The girl at the front desk was a sweetheart, and we laughed about how completely unprepared I was (did i have any sightseeing destinations planned out  yet? No, of course not). She gave me another map of Prague (now the third that I had obtained since leaving the airport) and lots of great tips. She also mentioned a "wine restaurant" downstairs, and because I hadn't eaten since a quick breakfast on-the-go from the Sagrada Familia Starbucks, I decided to check it out. After dropping my bags and freshening up in my decidedly no-frills but cozy nonetheless room, I headed down.

What I've come to love most about traveling is the unexpected delights and surprises at every turn. I'm a Best Western, for God's sake…I was expecting a standard, run-of-the mill dining room. Instead I walked into a dimly lit CAVE, the tables set in full fine dining regalia, with Medieval-looking lances and shields proudly displayed on the wall. Dramatic, ominous music played in the background. I was the only guest. Naturally, I sat down and ordered a glass of wine and a steak.

What a day! What a MONTH this has been so far…I realized I've now been away from home for 20 days. In some ways I feel like a satellite, bouncing around in space, sending out information to you all in waves. More significantly, though, I'm learning that a combination of self-determination and an open mind can get me further than I ever thought possible. In Barcelona, it felt like any time I needed something, the universe presented it to me- as long as I remained calm and didn't get frustrated. There is a deep, deep lesson in that, and it's one that I'll process through when I'm not so FREAKING tired.

Always in all ways,

Were there any point on this trip when I was going to decide never to come home, this would be it. Barcelona has been everything that London was not; everything I needed and wanted is here. I barely identify with the person who wrote the previous post, actually, she of perma-frozen feet and wrecked nerves.

Let me paint a picture for you of the life I've grown accustomed to here. It's 70 degrees and sunny, so I start my day on the beach; there's a cafe literally on the sand that looks out onto the still, sparking water. People are already sunbathing; it's a public beach but pristine recliners and umbrellas are provided, by the city I assume. One Cafe Americano isn't enough, so I usually have two. Today, for breakfast, I have a simple but delicious ham, cheese and tomato quesedilla. Norah Jones plays in the background.

I could honestly stay on the beach all day, but I'm drawn into the city because there's so many fascinating things to do and see. Let me put it this way- if I could change anything about Barcelona, it would be nothing. It's very much a modern city, but it has a distinctly old-world Mediterranean feel to it.  Other than main thoroughfares like Avenguda Diagonal and Las Ramblas, the streets are adorably narrow and full of life; people hanging out on their balconies, bodegas overflowing with colorful fruits and vegetables, street vendors, gelato shops. Tons of gelato shops, actually.

The history of Barcelona is extremely rich and layered, and it's literally built into the city itself. Yesterday I went to the Museo de Barcelona, mainly because it's free after 3 PM, not knowing that I'd be taken underground to walk through the ancient Roman ruins that sit below the streets. Legend has it that the city of Barcelona was founded either by Hercules or Hannibal's dad…either way, pretty cool. And then there's Gaudi.

It would be impossible to come to Barcelona and not feel the overwhelming impact of the architect Antoni Gaudi's influence here. In short, for those not familiar, Gaudi was a Catalonian guy who was born in the late 1800's and came to Barcelona to study architecture. He was incredible, and kept getting commissioned to do bigger and bigger works. He's designed several of the major attractions in Barcelona, from parks to huge houses for rich people, to the Sagrada Familia (an enormous church which STILL has another 30-80 years of construction left to go).

Gaudi's work is like nothing else that I've seen before. He was technically part of the Modernist movement, but he didn't really follow their rules, or anyone's except his own. He was inspired by nature, and especially the ocean, so his work reflects that in a way that you really just have to see to believe. I'm talking wavy walls and dramatic, twisting spires, and over-the-top use of mosaic glass. It's as if Dr. Seuss had been an architect. It's as if none of the other architects throughout history KNEW they were allowed to be that creative and fun, so their work looks incredibly boring in comparison.

He was an interesting guy…most people thought he was a mean, arrogant recluse, but his close friends said otherwise, so he was probably just one of those people that you have to get to know to understand. He only loved one woman in his entire life, and she didn't love him back, so he basically threw himself into his work. My favorite thing about Gaudi is that he didn't really make detailed plans for his projects…just started with a basic model and figured out the details as he progressed. Obviously, I can identify with that!

The most tragic part of Gaudi's story, however, is the way he died. Toward the end of his life, entirely devoted to construction of the Sagrada Familia, he didn't care about his appearance at all and essentially looked like a beggar. He was walking down the street one day, and he was struck by a tram and knocked out. Because of his disheveled appearance and the fact that he wasn't carrying any identifying documents on him, he wasn't identified quickly enough to get proper medical care, and died shortly after.

So there you have it. An eccentric genius who lived a lonely, workaholic's life and died tragically. Ironically, he's loved and lauded now, and he's made a permanent impact on Barcelona (and the world). Isn't life crazy? Isn't Barcelona crazy? 

Other than obsessing over Gaudi (and his Wikipedia page), I've been exploring parks, castles, restaurants, bars, shopping, walking, walking, and walking some more, and sleeping a lot as well. It's easy to relax and enjoy oneself here…it feels built into the culture. The people are pleasant. Nobody has bumped into me once. Cars making a right hand turn into a crosswalk actually wait for pedestrians to cross first before turning, instead of trying to race out into the street first, like in the US or London.