I woke up at 8 feeling well rested, a pleasant change from most other mornings here in Barcelona. Got up and dressed and wandered down to breakfast with Rose. We sat and talked over expresso and orange juice while waiting for Karen, Katie, Kolby and Diana to make their way down to breakfast. Our plans for the morning involved exploring the Castell de Montjuic and the Olympic Park in Barcelona.
Rupal joined the group as we hopped on a train to Barcelona where we would connect to the train and gondolas taking tourists to the castle. 8.30 euros later and we were crammed into a tiny gondola ascending the mountain. Karen, not a fan of heights, was not impressed with our daringness to stand on the seats and attempt to take pictures out of the top of the windows.
Castells de Monjuic was beautiful. Built originally as a castle, it was converted into a prison in the early 1900s and is now a museum. We wandered around for a couple of hours, taking pictures and drinking in one picturesque view after another from atop one of the highest mountains in the city. Also worth noting, European Port-A-Pottys are far superior to their American counterparts, they actually flush.
We headed back down the mountain to the Olympic Park of the Summer Games 1992. We toured the Olympic Museum for an hour or so and learned all about the various sports of the summer games as well as several other sports not adopted by the Olympic community. The best part of the museum was the collection of olympic torches dating back the 50's. Next the Olympic Park itself. Grand in scale and but a little lonely, the park was a quiet place to visit and allow the imagination to wander. I couldn't help but pictures thousands of athletes and spectators bustling around the vast expanse of walkways, terraces, and gazing pools. Unfortunately my camera decided to take a little nap during this time, so I have no photographic proof of my adventure.
Food became the number one thing on everyone's mind and we set our in search of something, anything, to munch on. Turns out our best option was a whole in the wall joint simply called Bar Restaurant. Now for those of you traveling to Spain in the near future, don't go here. I wont even mention where it is so you won't feel tempted. Esta cafe es no bueno. The pizza was of the frozen variety and only edible with some aid from a liter bottle of agua.
We jumped back on the Metro for a much need siesta back at the hotel. A couple hours later, when everyone was in a much better mood, most likely all forgotten about the disappointing pizza, we headed back to Barcelona for some beachside dining.
Today was a day of "where not to eat in barcelona." When in the Barceloneta region, do not eat at the last beachside hut. Again, this place had no real name and it was bad. Nachos con guacamole really means TexMex flavored Doritos and some sort of green substance resembling guacamole. The sangria was great, although I believe it went through a very lengthy preparation process of twisting off the lid and pouring it into the pitcher.
Barcelona redeemed itself a Playa, a whole in the wall Tapas joint right off the beach. I'm now a huge fan of the Spanish Omelet and can't wait for another chance to get one. We finished Part 2 of dinner just in time to make it to the NitBus stop to get back to Plaza de Catalunya, where out particular bus back to the university awaited. 35 minutes later, we were back to our hotel and ready for bed.
