The Quest to Find Oatmeal

Well, the last 36 hours have certainly been eventful.  And domestic.  And touristy.
[Note: This post looks long but is 80% pictures.  Do not be intimidated.]

Before departing from Diana yesterday, I found out that I am now two degrees of separation away from the guy who created the Super Soaker (Julia's dad).  I feel surprisingly fulfilled.  I was also excited to discover that the Atochas train station is actually a secret jungle.  It event has a huge pond filled with thousands of turtles, which brightened my morning.

The ride back on the Renfe AVE train was uneventful, although I realized that I have perfected the bring-thousands-of-warmth-layers-and-an-eyemask-and-earplugs travel sleeping toolkit.  I even have a handy dandy way to create a travel pillow (take about 5 shirts, folded normally, and place them inside your unzipped raincoat.  Zip the raincoat around them, then loosely tie the arms, and then fold the whole thing up before pulling the hood over the combination.  Ta dah!).  The Girl Scout in me loves this stuff.

I spent the afternoon exploring my neighborhood and finding the necessary stores so that I won't starve, smell bad, or have to become a freegan during my stay here (read: grocery store, pharmacy, ATM).  I discovered that there are tiny little grocery stores that tend either toward fresh produce or convenience store packaged products (the type Michelle Obama would point out in a food desert) dot the several blocks around my apartment.  This makes it easy for me to grab some lettuce/celery/cold cuts/strange sugary blobs at will, whenever the desire strikes.  Two blocks further, there's a pretty large grocery store where I found nearly everything that I needed to buy, except oatmeal.  Now, for context, let me tell you a little bit about breakfast in Spain.  They don't believe in it.  Well, they believe that you may need to munch on something before your lunch break at 1 pm, but typically people have a small roll of bread, a small glass of juice, and a coffee (and not an American sized jumbo coffee.  Think demitasse cup-sized).  The concept of eating so little pains me.  I was therefore relieved to find cereal, but I really craved oatmeal.  I asked at several stores, and was finally guided to... the local sports enhancement product shop.  Alongside your coconut water, whey protein, and horse tranquilizer-sized vitamin pills, you can pick up your oatmeal.  Maybe.  The jury's still out on this one, as the shop has been closed all weekend.  Until then, I shall have to content myself on the small box of Special K Red Berry that I scrounged up at the other store.  But all in all, my grocery shopping trip was a success and my little apartment feels homier already!

However, the absence of oatmeal is more than made up for by the plethora of other foreign delights that I have found in my neighborhood.  For example, I have found an acupuncturist at the end of my street.  Just in case.

Other fun photos from yesterday:

If Josh's and my sunglasses got together and had a baby.

With a guy in a funny costume outside one of the beautiful hotels, Casa Fuster.  I haven't seen any of the other guys that do this job wear this outfit... even on other shifts at Casa Fuster.

Interesting statues on the Diagonal (another main street near my apartment).

Pastries at a shop where everything was miniature and looked delicious.

My favorite tree from a Friends of Bonzais exhibition in an outdoor park that I stumbled upon.

And now today.  I got to explore the city a bit more with a long run along Passeig de Gracia, one of the main streets, through a large park, and then along the coastline.    Along the way, I passed my first bit of Gaudi architecture, the famous wavy walls and gates (more on this later).  I also passed several designer shops.  I don’t think I’ll be doing much clothes shopping in my neighborhood, as I don’t think Yale fellowships cover Chanel, Gucci, and the like.  Just before the public park, I passed by the Arc de Triomf and its accompanying plaza, where a large protest was being held.  I couldn’t make out what the protest was about, but many of the signs said ALPI (I think).  I passed into the Parc de la Ciutadella, a peaceful park with fountains, gravelly paths, and lots of pedestrian traffic.  At the back of the park is the Barcelona Zoo, which was a surprise to me!  I spent the rest of my time in the park trying to get a peek at the animals.  From the park, I headed to the beach.  By this point, it was nearly noon, the cloudiness of the morning was burning off, and all of Barcelona’s non-protesters were headed to the shore.  The beach was beautiful, with sand that seemed almost too yellow.  I can't wait to run here every week.

My afternoon was spent relaxing during the episodes of rain and exploring the city more when the sun was shining.  On my quest to buy a chicken to roast (sadly, the large grocery store was closed, so I am chicken-less), I met two other college students who are in Barcelona for two weeks with a program called EF to learn Spanish.  I'm not sure that two weeks in a city where Spanish (Castellano) is not the official language is feasible, but they get points for trying.  Anyway, they spoke no Spanish and were rather lost, so I asked a few locals and walked them partway to their destination.  They were very friendly and we exchanged contact information.  I wanted to spend tonight relaxing and getting ready for work (they said they go out every night, which sounds overwhelming) but I'm excited to have MADE MY FIRST NEW FRIENDS.  Hopefully I'll see them this week.  Their names are Dhammika (sounds like Tamika) and Ramon, and they are from Sweden and Denmark (?) respectively.  Victory! I will not turn into a hermit who only watches movies using her Yale VPN.

Exciting pictures from today:

A crowd-attracting Gaudi modernist masterpiece.

... with me blocking the view.

A really cool Louis Vuitton window display utilizing arrows with colorful fletching.  There were several others in different colors.

And you wonder why people go to McDonalds in other countries?  I'd go if they served delicious pastries, macaroons, and fresh-baked muffins.  Note: the outdoor dining space employs classy patio furniture under tents and wait staff.

In front of more amazing Barcelona architecture.

And... to finish things off properly:

Spotted: The Barca answer to the mullet.  It involves cutting the front 2/3 of your hair into a semi-mullet (with your hair being cut short instead of shaved on the sides, and left loose on the stripe on top) and the back part of your hair long and loose.  I will be on the look-out for photo-ops.

Realization #1: every building in Barcelona has a romantic balcony and sort of looks like a palace.  I think that’s why Americans are so obsessed with it/Europe in general.

Realization #2: Spain (at least Madrid and Barcelona) does public spaces right.  The main places people would want to go, usually near water, have wide pedestrian areas with space for walkers and bikers/joggers and strategically placed awesome playgrounds for children.  Brilliance.

Realization #3: I am going to eat an entire giant loaf of delicious bread every 1-2 days, and there is nothing I can do about it.  Also, I hearby swear off all of the processed, pre-sliced crappy bread that I don’t even really eat in America.  If I can get fresh bread every day less than a block away, it’s going to happen.