Me Amo Barcelona, M'encanta Barcelona, J'aime Barcelone

We finally were able to put Marseille behind us and take an 8 1/2 hour bus ride to Barcelona. Even our hostel was better. Even being in the city so late was better. We walked around and found pizza at like 11:30 at night and felt totally safe. Definite improvement.

Barcelona is such a great city.

It was strange because most things were in at least three different languages - Spanish, Catalan, and either French or English. Catalan seems almost like a combination of French and Spanish, which makes sense because Barcelona is pretty close to the French border.

We found a really cool market - tons of fresh fruit, vegetables, fish, candy, etc. Plus really delicious and fresh orange juice and raspberry juice. It was the largest market I've ever been to. Everywhere you looked you saw fresh food. Other than the meat stands, it was cool to just walk around and take it all in. The meat stands were quite gross - pig's face literally hanging up and sheep's heads laying out to be bought.

We wandered through the city center and saw some of the Gaudi buildings. We walked down by  the harbor and sat in different gardens.

We went into the Sagrada Familia cathedral, which is still a work in progress. Gaudi was wicked ahead of his time for architecture. His buildings literally look like they're growing out of the ground.

And the food.

The food was amazing. I had a fantastic cheese and vegetable panini for lunch. We went back to the hostel's neighborhood - it was an upper-class residential area - for dinner. Our hostel was super cool. It had a roof terrace and a garden. And the staff were friendly and helpful. We went out for dinner in our hostel's neighborhood. It was such a stereotypical Spanish dinner - seafood paella and sangria. It was delicious.

My whirlwind tour of Barcelona definitely left me wanting more. I can't wait to make a return trip to this city.

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

We were all psyched to get out of Marseille and head to Barcelona, so we grabbed breakfast and got to the train station two hours early. You know, just to make sure we got out of Marseille. Apparently the world was against us and had other plans.

The bus tickets we got in Tours said the bus would be at platform one or two, but the screen at the station said platform four. Of course we trusted the station screen that refreshes itself when the information is incorrect. As we're waiting at our platform talking about how awful it would be if our bus didn't show, a bus that said Marseille to Barcelona goes by.

Yes. It turned out that that was our bus, and the bus later that night was already full. We had to buy tickets for the next day because the French train workers were on strike so most of the trains weren't running, at least not direct services. And it would cost about $500 each to fly out. Anyway, we ended up staying at our hostel another night.



This totally reminded me of the Seinfeld episode when Jerry and Elaine go to Florida, and Jerry explains there three remaining days down to like 30 seconds or something between all the time they would spend eating, sleeping, showering, etc.

A Not So Good City Called Marseille

I don't really know how to describe my disappointment in the city that is Marseille. I was expecting it to be this fantastic city: I mean it is the French Riviera, after all. 

So, we walked to our hostel and then decided to get food, and it was later, probably like 11. Anyway, we see a freakin' fetish hooker getting picked up. As we later found out, this was par for the course that is the dilapidated city that is Marseille. Unfortunately, a lot of our down time was spent in the hostel either playing cards or talking or just lounging around.

We went to a beach our first full day, which was fine. I mean the water was beautiful, but the beach was pebbles instead of sand. The unfortunate thing was just how unsafe the city itself feels. We were walking down the street, and Mona whipped out the map to make sure we were going in the right direction. Lindsey and I both literally looked at each other and told Mona to put away the map before we got killed in the middle of the street in broad daylight. The men across the street looked like they were about to jump us in the street. Anyway, on our second full day, we went to Cassis, a small city on the coast.

Cassis turned out to be everything I think of when I think about Mediterranean cities. It had a bunch of outdoor cafes, tiled roofs, bright blue sea, and a sandy beach. We weren't able to stay long, so we wandered down by the beach and walked in the icy-cold water before searching for lunch. 

We found an outdoor cafe for lunch, and the food was pretty good. I had seafood pizza, and the three of us split a bottle of vine from a local vineyard. It's true; seafood in a coastal city is absolutely amazing. 

An Ernest Hemingway Kinda Day

On our last full day in Tours, we decided to just walk around the city before eating lunch down by the river.

We decided to have a picnic lunch a-la-Ernest Hemingway. We grabbed a baguette and a rotisserie chicken to eat by the river. We were already blocks past the grocery store, so we didn't have a bottle of dry white wine like Hemingway always drank, especially with his chicken and baguette lunches.

I got chickened out pretty quickly as did Lindsey, but Mona scavenged that chicken. Weird thing was, the grease was a strange neon green color, but the chicken tasted good.

We went out for Moroccan for dinner, which just reinforced my desire to go to Morocco. God that food is amazing.

Tours was everything I think of when I think about a smaller French town. Kind of quaint in a great way - amazing architecture, delectable cuisine, châteaux, croissants and wine.


After an anxiety-ridden airport experience, Tours was just the thing I needed. Besides one day of feeling terrible, I only have good memories of Tours. It was another city, like Belfast, that wasn't too touristy, and I can't wait to have an excuse to return.

Châteaux-ing in the Loire Valley

After a lovely breakfast of croissants, pastry, and tea, we went to the tourism office and decided to visit a couple châteaux, and the office provided a driver.

It was the three of us and a couple from the UK plus our driver, Pascal. The weather was gorgeous, and I loved the châteaux we visited.

The first one was called Chenonceau, and Pascal told us that the King had given it to one of his many mistresses, but the Queen Mother reclaimed it once the King had died.

Anyway, it was built over the river. The inside was classic royalty - everything was detailed, even the extremely high ceilings. The grounds were beautiful; I love French gardens.

Then we went to Amboise. Apparently, Leonardo da Vinci spent the last couple years of his life there. The castle wasn't as impressive, but there were these weird bushes there.

We wandered about the town - it was really cute. When we got back into Tours, we just walked around for a bit before calling it a day.

A Beautiful City Postponed

The second day in Tours was . . . interesting.

I felt totally fine when I woke up, and we went out and got croissants and pastries before wandering around the city.

We stumbled across a cool cathedral in the middle of the city. And it had a lot of flying buttresses. I love a good flying buttress.

Anyway, I started seeing weird lines and things, which had never happened, so I assumed my eyes were still adjusting to the dim interior as opposed to the sunny weather. Unfortunately, I got a splitting headache and then felt nauseous, culminating with me almost losing my breakfast inside a Domino's as Mona and Lindsey waited for their pizza.

As it turns out, the French are known for taking extremely long lunches, like two hour lunches. So, our hotel was closed because the front desk guy was on his lunch break. We waited outside until a cleaning woman opened the door for us, and I slept off the worst migraine I've ever had for the next few hours.

That night we went out for Chinese, almost everything else was closed for Easter Monday, and then we got Daim McFlurries. And even though I felt crappy, and as Lindsey said, I looked like death or like I was going to faint, I got some great photos, and for the little while that I didn't feel like I wanted to pass out just so the pain would stop, I enjoyed walking around the city.

A Series of Stressful Events

So our start to France was not exactly ideal. We ordered tickets online for the Stansted Express train from Liverpool Street station to the airport, and we were taking the tube to Liverpool Street. We left plenty of time - or so we thought.

Only one line of the underground was open (since it was Easter), and it had major delays because a train up the line had problems, so we sat at the station for 10 minutes. It finally went to the next station, but there was still going to be delays for who knows how long. We just walked the half hour to Liverpool. So the 10 minute underground trip took about an hour.

We figured we still had time because the train only takes a half hour, but the tracks were closed for maintenance. We got on a bus. All of us were freaking out that we'd miss our flight but thought security and stuff wouldn't be bad, so we were going to be fine.

Turns out our bag was over the weight limit (as much as I love RyanAir, I hated it twice as much in this moment), so we had to repack it. Twice. And in the confusion, a corkscrew ended up in Mona's hand luggage. So her bag had to be searched and repacked after security.

But no worries; we made it to Tours.

I absolutely love France. Even though every thing was shut down for Easter, the city we stayed in was beautiful. Tours is in central France, so not on a coast, but a river splits the city. We mainly wandered around the main plaza for a while on our first day.