It’s been 16 days since I set off on the crazily last-minute second leg of my Europe trip. I kinda sorta gave up trying to blog consistently because I’ve been exhausted from hopping to new cities and countries every few days. Worth it? Definitely. More details on the rest of the untold stories (the tears, anxiety, happiness, too many flights, overnight buses, etc.) another time.
I’m currently in Barcelona. I didn’t expect to love it – in fact, I never really desired to go to Spain. I had this preconceived notion of it being too hot and touristy. I threw it in my itinerary last minute after talking to a well-travelled friend (yay, Muirs!). And then I almost forfeited my plans to go back to London and then Iceland (my Northern Lights dream) – almost.
I love Barcelona. It’s colourful (Gaudí architecture is mesmerising), buzzing, has lovely people, great food (those markets!), and has gems around every corner. I can’t rave enough about the architecture and Port Vell – oh my word, it’s one of the nicest waterfronts I’ve ever seen. I need to work on one of those luxury yachts.
I’ve felt slightly mental in the past two weeks (Germany, Greece, Italy, and now Spain). Every city, every country, has its quirks and own personality – but I must say that I left my heart in the UK. Probably forever. Barcelona is definitely my favourite of the places I’ve been in the EU – along with Cinque Terre, ohmyGod.
I’m too tired to write anything else (it’s a Domino effect, because now I’ve forgotten everything I’ve done in the last two weeks based on being too tired to write, though) – so I’ll sum it up in photos. Thank God for my amazing GoPro.