Funny Story - Las Ramblas Again

     Part of Spanish culture is that people kiss on either cheek when they meet and prefer a lack of personal space when conversing.  I forgot about that when my friend's date said hello to me when I dropped her off earlier.  I introduced myself and smiled, thinking American-ly that that in itself was an acceptable greeting, but when he moved toward me, I thought he was going to shake my hand.  So I moved toward him and he kissed me on the cheek.  OH.  I thought it was over, but apparently I forgot about the other cheek so when he kissed me again, it was almost an after thought for me.  My friend made a joke that we haven't quite gotten the hang of the whole "besos" thing.  Thank you so very much for pointing out my sheer awkwardness.

     I realized as my friend went skipping off with her date that I had gotten separated from the rest of the group.  They had been walking slower than us and the girl in question was already late so we had gone on a head.  I waited by the restaurant for a little while, thinking they would find me...They did not.  I then went back to the metro exit...I didn't find them there either.  I decided to start down Las Ramblas thinking that I might run into them...Nope.  I didn't really want to go home; I figured "When in Barcelona - vale!"  I walked up and down Las Ramblas for two and a half hours by myself; I would walk all the way to the end, turn around and head back.  

     I ran into a nice guy from southern England.  I literally ran into him, practically knocked him over!  He had also misplaced his friends and by this point I was already on my third trip down Las Ramblas.  He walked with me for about an hour and half, then had to head back to his group's final meeting spot.  We said goodbye and I wandered off in search of postcards.

   I'm rather strange in that I really enjoy writing.  Not just blogging or emailing because I do enjoy both of those; I hate texting.  I really prefer to write, sit down and write a letter to someone.  I may not be particularly loquacious or articulate when I blog or write a letter, but I do enjoy the feeling of a pen in my hand and paper on the desk.  Plus, who doesn't like getting a surprise in the mail??

     Sorry about the little side note.  At 8:30 p.m. I faithfully made my way to the meeting place my friend and I had agreed upon.  She was seven minutes late, which in Erin Time means that it was about three minutes until I called the National Guard (Does Spain even have a National Guard?).  We got McDonald's (her idea, not mine) and made our way home.  We were both tired and ended up having to buy two metro passes each instead of one because we went in the wrong entrance.
     By the time I got home, I was so ready to just fall asleep.  I showered, skyped my mom, did homework and went to bed.  I'm lame, I know.  Even though it was a little lonely exploring by myself, I was able to take my time.  I got to look at all the little flower stands and pictures that the vendors sell, all at my own pace.
     When we first arrived here, I was eating a lot of fresh, unprocessed meats and vegetables.  However, the past few days I've had pizza, Chinese food, McDonalds and about 8 gallons of Coke.  I'm starting to feel the effects; it is definitely time for a cleanse.  Spaniards eat much healthier in general than Americans and are constantly walking, biking or taking public transportation as opposed to driving whenever possible.  Their meat is not as heavily processed; Vegetables and fruit may not be the biggest or the shiniest but the difference in taste from American's imported produce is impressive.  Every taste here is twenty times more vibrant and colorful than at home.  I don't know if I will ever look at bread or rice the same way ever again.