Final Days

It was very weird to get back to Barcelona and not be heading to my apartment. We caught a bus from the airport to Placa Catalunya and walked along La Rambla to Sirisha’s apartment. I was finally reunited with all of the luggage I had left when departing for Morocco on May 1, what now seemed like eons ago.

On May 25 Einav and I decided to go to Figueres in the hopes of seeing the Dali museum. We boarded the Renfe and made the hour and a half trek. When we arrived we walked around the small town for a little while, following the signs to the museum. We finally made it to the museum and walked up to the dark, abandoned door- this did not look promising. As I approached the door I read a sign on it saying that the museum was closed on Mondays. We were very upset, having checked the website the night before. We called Sirisha, who rechecked and confirmed that it did not say anywhere on the website that the museum was closed on Mondays. Deciding to make the best of an unfortunate situation, we walked around the small Catalunyan town. We walked to the fort on the edge of the town (which closed 30 minutes before we got there) and played on an abandon playground before getting some gelato. After a couple of hours we decided we had enough and headed back to Barcelona. At least I got to see the town.

That evening we walked around Barcelona before having Paella for dinner near the Port. I was pretty sure that would be my last Barcelonan paella and it was a little emotional. Sirisha and I took Einav for her first Barcelona night out that night. Though everything was slightly dead-it was a Monday.

The next day we slept late. It was my last full day in Barcelona and I needed some souvenirs so the three of us went gift shopping on La Rambla. That turned out to be my last time on La Rambla. We then headed for one last siesta- on the beautiful beach, of course. I was so glad that the weather was perfect. After a couple of hours of relaxing and walking up and down the beach we headed back to Sirisha’s apartment to get ready for the evening. Coincidentally Sirisha’s program had their going away dinner that night, so Einav and I joined. All of the friends I had made on my program were long gone. After dinner we went up to Mirablau, a bar on Tibidabo with a great view of the city.

Sitting their looking out brought back all of my memories of an incredible semester. This city that I had called home for so long now seemed to be a mere vacation spot.

Finally the fateful morning of May 27 arrived- the day I had randomly picked almost 8 months before to return home. My flight was relatively early so I woke up, quickly finished packing all of my things (I had to leave some stuff behind to make room for my new acquisitions), caught a cab and headed to the airport.

I don’t think I could have picked a worse day to leave. That evening was the Euro League Championship in which Barcelona was playing Manchester United. Even at 9AM the city was bustling and the airport was even crazier. The game was in Rome and I think about ½ of the flights that day were going to Rome. It seemed like everyone in the airport had Barcelona jerseys, hats and scarves on and the airport echoed with the team anthem. It was difficult enough to leave this city that I had grown to love, but seeing it at its finest, with so many people so proud to be natives, made it even more difficult to board the plane. The fact that I would be mid flight during the game and not be able to watch did not help.

Finally I grabbed a couple of the newspapers that littered the floor, chairs and tables of the airport with the team members grinning faces on the covers and walked onto my plain. My journey had ended- time for another one to begin.