
So finally the wireless hot zone in Barcelona is working and so I am back. Almost a week with no Internet access, however, has been surprisingly refreshing. During our downtime, Fritzi and I have been having long and meaningful discussions about life, reading books and watching hilarious German reality television ("Rosie!!??!!! Gott im Himmel, nicht Rosie!!! Weisst du wie alt sie ist???")
Some observations:
1. Hot men are a dime a dozen here. Seriously. Every second man in downtown Barcelona, young or old, is hot. I hate to say it but they out-number the beautiful women (none as beautiful as Tanya E.), who are also plentiful, but not as abundant as the tawny-skinned, doe-eyed, hard-bodied and charming Spanish men who are seemingly everywhere you look in this town. I had been exploring the city for an hour when I turned to Fritzi and said: "I am really going to like it here."
2. Fritzi and I steeled our nerve and bared our breasts on the Barcelona beaches. It took us two hours to get up the courage to unveil the knockers, and now, near the end of the trip, it's like we've been flaunting them publicly all our lives. The Spaniards don't pay the slightest mind; Fritzi and I were assessing other women's jugs -- there really are some weird ones out there -- far more than any of the natives on the beach. However, a man from India who had been fixating on my hooters earlier in the day came after me in the Mediterranean, swimming under the water and grabbing my ass. From then on, Fritzi and I sang "underwater ass-grabber" to the tune of "Undercover Angel."
3. Tapas is fabulous. We had artichoke fritters last night that were to die for. Not to mention the seafood paella and the grilled calamari.
4. Yes, I have a chance, and once again fear is defeating me. There is a hot maitre d' of a high-end tapas place we like. Tells me I have beautiful legs. When a woman walked by last night wearing the same eyelet H and M dress I was wearing, he came by to point it out and then told me I wore it much better. He is smart, hot, funny, intense, long-haired and respectfully flirtatious. I should be asking four questions, in this order: "Are you single? When do you get off work? Where is your apartment? Do you have condoms?" But I am too scared.
5. All the Antoni Gaudi buildings here are mind-blowing, like swirly, fluid van Gogh paintings in architecture form, and must be seen to be believed. The Sagrada Familia is astonishing. I am a devout atheist and almost wept taking it in.
Adios for now amigas!
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Tearfree blitzed the comments by mistake during her blog clean-up. You can read them here but please come back to add any new comments here.
1 comment:
Wow!
I've been trying to nudge my little brother to go to University in Barcelona. now I see that's mostly my selfishness (I can go and visit him often, you see, and be sorrounded on such occasions by "my type".)
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