{travel journal} Un Dernier Verre (Pour la Route)

(all of my posts will be Beirut song titles.. Hopefully that will work out)

The title of this post means ‘a call (for the road)’. These past few days have been spent walking the roads of cities (and the skies).

Wednesday was spent exploring the city centre of Barcelona. I went around by myself for a bit to start to get a feel for the town. I had my first “bocadillo” (Spanish for sandwich which are usually on small baguettes) on my way to a walking tour.

I was very hesitant to do this at first. The one thing I hate the most about traveling is looking like a complete tourist. And nothing says tourist like a bunch of white people moving together in a clump. But, I laid down my pride and web anyways. I am so glad I did.

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We took a tour of the old town and I learned more than I could have possibly imagined. The lovely yet strained history of the Catalans and the people from the other parts of Spain has shaped Barcelona into a beautiful city of culture. The official language of the area is Catalan (a mix of French and Spanish kind of) but everyone also speaks Spanish. So most of the time, I have no idea what people are saying around me.

Moving along, I met some great people on the tour and we got to chat and have a drink together before we split our separate ways. I just absolutely love getting a glimpse into people’s lives when I’m traveling. It’s crazy to think that specific people are brought together at the same time as you from all over the world. I don’t think that’s an accident.

I wandered around La Rambla for a bit and went into a great market ‘La Boqueria’, one of the best in Europe. It was a lovely evening.

I was up so very early this morning, it all felt like a haze. I got very little sleep and spent the entire morning on buses and planes to get to Paris. But, it was clearly totally worth it.

The very first thing I did when I got off the subway stop near my hostel was buy a croissant. It did not disappoint and I expect for have many more!

After a nap (some of which was in a park and when I opened my eyes, I found that someone had placed a dead crab next to my head on the bench… SO WEIRD), I went in search of my first real meal of the day in Montmarte. I had a classic French sandwich, Croque Madame (game and cheese with a fried egg on top) and a cafe au lait to fight off the sleepiness.

Whilst sitting and minding my own business, a French man says something to me walking by. Of course I have no idea what he said, so I just told him I didn’t understand French. He procedure to sit down and try to communicate through my very broken French and his broken English. It was quite entertaining. His name was Carter and he kept telling me he was going to come to Chicago. Anyways, I had to make an escape and get to my Montmartre walking tour (now I’m obsessed with walking tours) thankfully.

Montmartre is just as wonderful as I imagined. From the Moulin Rouge to the Sacre Coeur, and all the little streets in between, it’s quite charming. There is a crazy history of suffering famous artists in this area of Paris, including Van Gogh’s 2 year stint in Paris living with his brother Theo. I again, just learned heaps of things.

I sat and reflected on the day at a perfect little cafe on top of a hilly street (Montmartre basically is just one huge hill). It felt like a perfect dream.

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Paris from Montmartre
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Sacre Coeur

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A photo I snuck inside Sacre Coeur

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Cafe in Montmartre

I can’t wait until tomorrow

P.s. I’m pretty sure this most took me almost an hour. Doing this on the iPhone with adding in photos seriously takes FOREVER. But, I love sharing my time and travels that it makes it quite better

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