montjuic con salsa [barcelona, spain]

Though I was exhausted from lack of sleep, today was a huge improvement on yesterday. Though Spanish class was rough as always, of course being treated like the "special kid" in class never helps, my art history class was cancelled, which meant only one class for the day. Not too shabby.

Because we're leaving for Paris Friday morning, I'll be missing my Mediterranean Environment Study trip to the Botanical Gardens, so I decided to go after class to do the "study quiz" on my own. Upon arriving at Montjuic, where the gardens are, I spent a lot of time taking in the sights while searching for the gardens, mostly because I was pretty lost. There was no one there. A couple locals, some school children, a German couple, and a bunch of construction workers on the entire mountain. It was wonderful. So nice not to be surrounded by people, or Americans at that.

I saw a horse barn (definitely not on the map), the Olympic Stadium, a couple parks... and finally after a couple hours of making my way up the massive mountain, I found the Botanical Gardens. They looked a little barren at first glance, but after looking a little closer I realized how beautiful it was. I was the only one there for almost the entire time in these huge gardens overlooking the city. It was peaceful, perfect for photography. It's up there in my favorites with Sagrada Familia. A little different, but it's up there.

I stayed until they closed the garden and then I walked the long walk back down to the metro station. I had this intense rush of thoughts as I went down the mountain... like how living is made up of the 5 senses (taste, touch, see, hear, smell) and of culture (food, music, art, language) and we're living in this world full of nature and the manmade, and travel includes all of these things and the more you travel, the more lives you have lived. I thought about how sometimes I feel like places just flow right through me like I'm made of air, like I'm becoming part of that place, and sometimes places swell up inside of me until I feel like I'm filled up to the top with that place and can walk away still holding it inside. Then there are some times when I forget where I am and routine takes over and it doesn't matter if I'm in Barcelona or Virginia or Pennsylvania or China, because I'm only brushing my teeth, only eating breakfast, only walking. Those are the times when we stop travelling. But you can start again any time you want to just by looking up at the trees, even if you walk past them every day. You can always travel, no matter where you are. It's not about going to a new place, it's about seeing something new.

I took the metro home and changed for my first salsa class. It was so much fun; I am so, so glad I decided to take it. The most entertaining part was this blonde girl who was acting extraordinarily blasé about the class because she had taken dance classes before (given away by the fact that she, for some reason, decided that after the class in the middle of the dance studio was a good time to practice some double pirouettes...??), and she was doing all of the steps right but she looked so ridiculous. When people refer to looking "white" when you dance, this is what they're talking about. She was over-exaggerating everything, erratically jolting her hips and shoulders in perfect time with the music, but with no kind of natural movement or fluidity. She really thought she looked great too. It was really quite, quite funny. Jen and I had a good laugh over that one.

Today was a really good day. And do you know what I realized? I don't care how many Mean Girls I encounter - nobody can ruin all of this.