This morning I came down for breakfast, no surprise, without a sight of my Bristol lads. Considering the rather unimaginable amount of alcohol consumed the night before I wasn't particularly surprised. I can't claim to have felt all that amazing myself. But with it being my penultimate day in Barcelona, I dragged myself out of bed to make the most of it. Also it was a Sunday and I promised myself I would go to church.
I came down to find my lovely American friend Mike at breakfast, my room mate David and one of Mike's friends (this is the problem with writing this so late, I can't remember his name!). We had a good chat about all sorts, including our experiences of Barcelona and the various reactions we had received from everyone we met about where each of us was from. I barely managed to eat properly due to the horrendous hangover, and even tried to drink some tea but that was truly yuck. Sorry Spain, but your tea is totally pants. Lesson learnt, when travelling bring your own teabags.
Mike and I took off on a solo-adventure after breakfast to find some random dancers in a town square. With little more than a tip from a friend of Mike's that there would be dancing at this address, this time and that we would love it, we wondered through the streets with little idea of what we would find. We stumbled across the detailed town square, but there wasn't anything going on. We wondered around the area for a while, but next to everything was closed. It was around 11am to 12 lunchtime, and although we had heard of Siesta's, I was yet to see anything closed for it yet. Granted it was Sunday, but even in England most places tend to be open between 10am-4pm.
Anyway, disappointed from that we went to seek ice cream, as finding Gelato in Barcelona was on my to-do list. Despite having passed literally hundreds of ice cream places in the past 3 days, once actually in search of one it was near impossible to find a bakery or ice cream store anywhere. The only place we could find that was open within a couple of blocks was McDonalds, and even that was like a ghost town. We hung out there for a bit while Mike connected to the wi-fi (or wii fee as pronounced in Spain) to double check the time and address of the dancing, then headed back to check again.
Upon arriving back at the original address, it was a totally different scene. It felt just like walking into a musical, with American jazz music playing loud and everyone swing dancing in time with each other! The experience was surreal and Mike and I couldn't keep the smiles off our faces. Mike talked a young Spanish girl into teaching him a few steps, while I filmed and took many snaps. I restrained from learning, with my lack of rhythm I didn't have enough time left in Barca to learn the steps, but it has certainly inspired me to take up swing dancing back in the UK.
While waiting for Mike's friend to turn up a super terrifying drunk guy from another country (not to be given enough detail to identify here) came up to half threaten, and half befriend us in a very "I want to kill you and eat your insides" kind of scary way. After that, we made a pretty speedy escape. We discussed the Walking Dead some more and our zombie apocalypse plans. Once back at the hostel, I found the lads semi comatose on the bean bags in the hostel, and seeing as they claimed to not want to move for the rest of the day, left them there.
I went back to my room to take a nap and just generally relax for a while before we headed out for church that evening. I didn't end up taking the nap after all, as a lovely new arrival checked in. This is where I met the very sweet Dario from Argentina. We talked for literally three hours about just about everything (even with his TV learnt English and my complete lack of any other language) and I have to say he made a huge impact on my trip even having arrived so late just for being the most adorable person I met on my travels. Later in the afternoon, another newbie arrived from America (I'm really sorry I've forgotten your name!) and she seemed to settle in well too.
I suddenly realised that after spending so much time chatting with Dario, I may have missed the boys boarding for their flight. I rand downstairs, searching frantically for them, and fortunately managed to catch them. I said a brief but very sad goodbye to all my friends, taking comfort in the fact that aren't too far to ever see again! I got changed into something a little warmer as the temperature was now starting to drop, and even with Mike coming to collect me we ended up running late to church.
We power walked pretty much the whole way there, giving us a quick chance to talk more about our faith and how it came about for each of us, and what it actually meant for us as both rather modern Christians. When I got there, I realised I really didn't know much about this church we were going to, other than it was known for it's music. So I was expecting a lot of hymns, which is great for me as I love singing. What I discovered when I went inside was very different. Not only was it all young people, but there was stage with strobe lights and a projector with lyrics to sing along on top of some funky moving backgrounds that were almost rave worthy. This was Hillsong.
The music started and I have to say it was the craziest experience of worship I have ever known. Everyone was dancing with their arms in the air, some of the music was almost dubsteppy, and there were tons of live musicians on the stage. In the quieter, more toned down moments, there was no doubting it was church as the music slowed and everyone held their hands up and whispered prayers. It felt like nothing I had experienced before, a level of passion and belief that was so alive and inspiring that it made my heart feel swelled. Even I could fully believe there, with all the new incredible things I had been allowed to experience on this trip, that I was in the right place at the right time. The performers were truly amazing and the church showed some great talent that night. The preacher was probably the strangest I had ever seen in skinny jeans and a hoodie, but also the most passionate. This man had faith pouring out of his veins, and even though I was listening to a translation, most of which I couldn't even understand anyway, I felt so inspired by his love for God.
From left to right, my room mate David, me, my lovely American Mike and my room mate Andre :)
And so, I have only one day left of the most life-changing trip I have yet experienced.
P.S Found another Barcelona collectable!
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