This is the La Rambla street.
Sort of an equivalent to our Bukit Bintang street.
It's a tree-line pavement where you find all sorts of people doing all sorts of stunts, performing arts and music; littered with plentiful of tapas restaurants and cafe on both side of the road.
It's a super gorgeous street to walk on with your partner.
Which was why it was a little bittersweet to watch loving Spanish couples cuddling each other while walking down the street, from 20's to late 60's.
It was sweet, which made me a little bitter about being there alone. Poo~
There was this sight I could not forget, a really handsome couple, the man tall and good looking, the woman elegant and poise, both in their late 40's; they looked perfect for each other and so lovingly together. The husband (presumably) was teasing his wife and they both giggled and then hugged each other as they walked.
It made me conclude that Spain was the most romantic place on earth, more so than France or the city Paris, where French men are used to take in mistresses. I guess the meaning of romanticism has evolved through time.
Alright, back to the day when I left London and arrived in Barcelona in the night.
I arrived the city of Barcelona via the two-hour-half bus and it was pitch dark by the time I dragged my pulley luggage out of the station.
It gotta be the most painful and tedious experience taking underground with no escalators and only stairs two storeys deep to get to my destination.
It took another hour and a half for me to reach my hostel from the station, after getting lost a bit on small dark lanes and smaller alleys having no idea what sort of building I was looking for.
imagine this lonely lane in the dark
now imagine this lonely alley in the dark
Creepy? Hell yea! o.O
It didn't help there were a lot of Africans selling drugs at corners of these alleys in the night. >_< The entrance to my hostel was nothing of what I expected of.
It's a giant two-wooden-door full of graffiti.
Along an alley that looked like this.
According to the internet, the hostel was rated top in Barcelona.
I was getting worried I was getting my information wrong.
Needless to say I would soon realize that most doors to even the more up-scale places have their doors/metal slides vandalized by teenagers of the city.
Apparently it's art, and a culture. And the people welcomed it.
Here are some of the few more artistic graffiti on random walls and doors I shot over the next few days.
Any-hoo, I called my host and pushed open the heavy wooden door to lead myself up another flight of stairs (gosh I hated stairs) and found myself in the most welcoming bed.
Where I would soon learn another culture of Barcelona.
The city never sleeps.
Which explained the free earplugs on the bed.