Mediterranean!

We made it back to the hotel, and grabbed our swimsuits. Did we think to actually put them on? Nah. We started walking down the Rambla and immediately started kicking ourselves. There were street shops closing up left and right that had (presumably) exactly the kind of shit we were looking for. Dammit.

Eventually, we reached the waterfront. There was a walking bridge stretched across the harbor leading to some restaurants. We walked towards it, and saw a bunch of people selling various things off of blankets. Ang got some snake earrings from a dude selling them from an umbrella, and we walked to the edge of the pier and sat down to take pictures of the boats and shoreline. Shortly after, a woman plopped down next to angie, clutching a backback. I couldn't understand what she was saying, but I assumed she was trying to sell something, and we began edging away from her. Ang wasn't moving, though, and when the woman got up and walked away, Ang explained what had happened. Apparently there were runners warning the people selling stuff that cops were coming, so they'd quickly pack up their stuff and dump it into backpacks. Reselling was illegal, but the woman made bracelets and didn't want the police to take her stuff, so she had sat next to us in an effort to look like she belonged with the group instead of being one of the sellers.

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We walked across the bridge and ended up at a restaurant called tapa-tapa, and we were happy to find out they were still selling food since it was later than restaurants usually serve food. We ordered some croquetas, squid, pork, chicken, and maybe one other thing. They were all fairly mediocre, but at least the (huge)pitcher of sangria was good. We asked the server where the actual beach was, and she said that it was a 15-minute walk away.

We stopped in at the bathroom and learned that if you aren't standing a hairsbreadth away from a door, you apparently don't have to pee. Some people rudely pushed past us and tried for the occupied doors before I threw up my hands and glared at them.

That server was a dirty liar. My feet were officially dead, and it took forever to actually get to the beach. We had brought bathingsuits, but had forgotten to change into them when we were in the bathroom. I think Ang didn't actually think we were going swimming, but who the hell goes to the beach in Barcelona and DOESN'T get into the mediterranean?!

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We ran up to the water and Ang was the first in. She had no intention of swimming, but after wading up to half-calf, she partly fell in because there was an unseen drop-off. We scuttled back to the sand, and after standing on the beach fully prepared to jut rip off our clothes, we noticed that everybody was mostly fully dressed and not actually swimming. Shit. Then we saw an overhang that would at least hide us from the people on the boardwalk above, and waited until a woman finished peeing before we walked under it and began the shuffle of skill that is putting on a bathingsuit without actually getting undressed. I didn't realize until I pulled off all my clothes that I had managed to put my bathingsuit on the wrong way, so there was a bow and boob cups on my back. Holla!

Tracey and I dove in headlong, and it was glorious. Not warm, but nowhere as cold as the atlantic. Tracey and Ang eventually switched places because someone had to be on the beach at all times to watch our crap. I basically refused to get out. I think that was the first time I had gone swimming all summer :(

We all got our fill of swimming and stood around our pile of crap drip-drying before we decided that a cab would never stop for us if we were soaking wet. Angie did the skillful changing out of suit and into clothes right on the beach as a few dudes stared at her. Tracey and I walked over to our previous spot and dressed as guys on bicycles with backpacks pedaled by asking if we wanted beer or pot. For the record, we said no.

We walked back up to the road and Angie and I hailed a cab from one direction while Tracey hailed a cab from another direction, so we accidentally got two cabs. We all got into the first one and began the awkward "hotel curious? um. La Rambla? um. Placa del Catalunya? uh, shit...Calle carme?" "calle carme? si!" "hooray!" "where on calle carme?" "shit. um, next to La Rambla?"

Eventually, after the cab driver took the long way around, we arrived back at the hotel. High five! The cab driver was actually really nice, he put on some music he hoped we liked (american pop) and talked to us about our trip.
A friend had recommended that we go to L'Ovella Negra, a backpacker's bar. We changed out of our wet clothes at the hotel and left for L'Ovella Negra, which was only a few blocks away. Ang and I followed Tracey, who began charging down streets as soon as we left the hotel. As soon as Ang and I began whispering, "does she actually know where she's going?" Tracey announced "we're here!"

The bouncer warned us that it was 20 minutes until closing and we couldn't take drinks to-go. Alright, fine. We walked in, and it was immediately like stepping into a German beer hall. long bare-wood topped tables while people loudly pounded back beers, old iron decorations including a giant bird cage(?) and gruff bartenders. I loved it, and regretted that we had not been going there since the beginning. The atmosphere was fun, the drinks were cheap, and we probably would have been able to meet peple if there wasn't 15 minutes left by the time we sat down. The place was so packed I assumed they weren't actually going to close at 3 like they had said, but sure enough, right on time the lights were flicked on and we were herded out.

[pictures of L'Ovella Negra]