I really don't even know where to begin… But since arriving in the beautiful city that is Barcelona – I so understand why Spain has been on my mind since I was about the age of eight. The year must have been about nineteen hundred and eighty-four. Only because that is when I was eight. I don't exactly remember in what magazine (uhh, there was no such thing as the internets – at least for us common folk) that I first saw an image of Prince Felipe…
Prince Felipe, circa 1991. I do not own the rights to this image. But if I did, I'd be someone that I cannot locate…
But ya girl was SMITTEN! And the burgeoning cool nerd that I was immediately set out to discover all that I could about his royal fineness and some stuff about his little kingdom, too.
That is when she (or maybe he) called me. And so, almost thirty years later (give or take (take as much as you'd like) a few years), I finally find myself, a wanna-be subject – wandering the streets of one of his major cities. SMITTEN! No longer by him. Unlike Barcelona, time has not been kind to the crown prince. He has lost a few strands of hair – while his country has gained a potential new resident. (Pah-leeze, let me stay!)
Prince Felipe circa now. I also do not own the rights associated with this image. Nor do I still find him attractive. Unless this statement means the difference between staying and going. If it's the latter – he's a dead ringer for Johnny Depp, IMHO. :)
I can't even describe it. Maybe it's the best of those two worlds I was seeking when I left San Marcos… Where I can be as weird as I want to be, yet not have to deal with total sterility. It's beautiful. Barcelona actually reminds me an awful lot of Buenos Aires – sans dog poop and jacked up sidewalks, and with stop signs. And I don't stand out here. Barcelona is home to people from all over the world – a mini-melting pot, of sorts. Yet, I already know that the busyness of this place is too much to bear – which is why I am headed a bit further south to Valencia tomorrow…
Not that it's all busy. Or that I don't appreciate that about it. Because walking around town yesterday morning (Sunday) with almost no cars and/or people in sight was such an incredible experience. (Saturday was the San Juan festival – hangovers were had by many). Taking my time, strolling the streets that I could swear I already knew, was such a liberating experience. It feels like I belong.
Which is crazy. Because ALL of my life – especially that eight-year-old fawning over a much older crown prince – I've never quite felt as though I fit in – anywhere. Because I haven't. I've been one that has danced to my own drummer and ridiculed for doing so. Here, I feel like everyone else. I am not the exotic chick. And while I've had my fair share of "hola, guapa's," I've never felt that it is because I am different. I am declaring right here and right now that it is because I am, well, guapa. ;) My intuition is speaking louder than it ever has…
I know that awhile back, I was all about Savannah. And we all remember the saga that was San Marcos… But. This is different. Not just because it's a different place. This is something in my spirit. In my soul. And my core. Something about the Mediterranean is all up in here, peeps. And it's no longer a dream… It is my beautiful dark fantasy. To quote Yeezy. Which is something I never do (somebody pahleeze slap me)! Y'all should know what that means… But don't get mad when I change my mind. Or immigration does it for me.
Photos from Barcelona here.
~ by Rachel on June 25, 2012.
Posted in I feel...
Tags: again, Barcelona, excitement, Living, Love, moving on, prince felipe, Solo Travel, Spain, Travel, vacation
