Getting Pissed…and the Magic Fountains of Montjuic!

Day 53: Friday December 2nd, 2011

Karlee and I woke up to the sound of running water. No, not running water. Piss. The Quebecois guy was swaying and pissing in the corner of the hostel room right below us, pitter-pattering on the floor.


We both yelled at him to stop, and Karlee’s friend, the girl he slept with, ushered him out the door, probably more embarrassed than the guy whose penis I had just seen. Thank God.

Everyone in the room stared at each other, unsure of what to say about the weird phenomenon we had just witnessed. Someone was so fucked up at 10 AM the next day to just piss in the room? He pissed on his clothes and shoes, and I thought he avoided mine.

Of course, when have I ever been that lucky? The urine spread to my pants, socks and dress shirt. I think it avoided my shoes, but they smelled so much from 50 days of extreme use anyways that it hardly mattered. After such a wonderful end of the night, there was not a worse way to wake up. I got Karlee’s number, grabbed my shit and threw it in the shower, washed it, and then tried to go back to sleep.

But I couldn’t because the monster of a woman who was also in our room was still asleep. This Aussie was Andre the Giant the female version and her snores rumbled the damn floor. And she was always asleep. She never did anything else.

So I went downstairs and told my pity story about a guy pissing on my clothes and asked to wash them. The girl at reception told me I had to pay for tokens. I looked at her and explained to her that a GUEST had peed on my clothes and I wasn’t going to pay to do laundry. She kind of laughed and gave me the tokens. I used these tokens to clean all my clothes, not just the pee clothes, which came in handy for the bed bugs I had procured.

By this time, the bed bugs were really bad. I’ve kind of skimmed over them due to all the other craziness in my life, but when I wasn’t partying, the bed bugs were basically the only thing on my mind.

Wes, Deane and I went to Lechuga, a nearby sandwich place that was cheap and awesome. For 5 euro you could have whatever you want in their sandwich bar on top, so had lettuce, tomatoes, onions, prosciutto, all sorts of sauces, etc. on a chicken sub. It was just what I needed, and we basically made a mess as we laughed away lunch time.

We returned back to the hostel and talked with each other and Dan all day (Dan apparently had had a fantastic night with a couple of Spanish girls). They were essentially quoting Seinfeld for about 3 hours, and I was basically dozing and interjecting random comments when deemed necessary, because I can’t quote Seinfeld (and believe it’s the most overrated TV show of all time, but I didn’t want to tell them that).

I had planned to nap because I was exhausted, but instead, due to their chatter, I left and finished the Glasgow murder mystery I had gotten from Lynn way back in Durham. Entitled Exile by Denise Mina, the book was pretty sweet, a very tense read that gave a lot of insight into Scots, in particular Scots from Glasgow, which is a very different breed than Edinburgh (it’s a scary place). The atmosphere and voice of the novel was brilliant and so distinctly Scottish, peering into the seedy side of London as well. It’s not completely representative of the cities, but didn’t make me want to go there regardless.

I had also hoped to run into Karlee while in the common area, because her number (and mine for her) didn’t work. She had moved hostel rooms so I had no idea where she was. We had made plans to go to the Magic Fountains that night.

I didn’t know a lot about the fountains, except that during the winter they only played on the weekends, but they were up by the Olympic stadium, and these huge fountains had a show accompanied by music, and I had heard good things, so I wanted to go.

I invited Taylor as well, and really didn’t want to go to these magic fountains alone, but it was my last night in Barcelona and I was really excited. Wes and Deane weren’t really interested, and to be fair, going to a romantic colorful fountain on Friday night probably wasn’t too enticing with me as company.

I found Karlee by asking where she was staying at the front desk, and found her and Jill (her friend) sleeping. I invited them to the fountain, but we had to leave soon. Taylor surprised me by showing up, and it was time to go, so I left without them, since I didn’t want to miss the start.

I was really glad to see Taylor again, since we hadn’t really hung out since my crazy night, and we got along pretty well, I thought. I still don’t know what she thinks of me, but I was so glad to have company.

After the past two nights, I was exhausted and ready to move on, but the Magic Fountains up on Montjuic reenergized me, proving to be an elixir to hangovers and bed bugs. I loved them. It’s probably hyperbole, but it was one of the highlights of not only Barcelona, but of my trip. Being December and around the holidays, it played cheesy Christmas music in Spanish and English, accompanied by massive gales of water spouting from the fountains with just an awesome array of colors, all executed perfectly to the point where I felt like I was on drugs. The show was a half hour, and we watched two of them, even if they were pretty much identical. I think Taylor enjoyed it and got a kick out of me turning into a 9 year old boy more than anything.

The only drawback was those damn scam artists trying to sell me beer every five seconds. They didn’t ever go to Taylor, they ALWAYS went to me. It’s like they knew I was their target audience.

On the way back, we ran into Karlee and Jill, who had apparently gone down to see me JUST after we had left. But they had met a few Spanish speaking guys who were going to the fountains and joined them. So we joined groups. It was kind of awkward with both Karlee and Taylor there. It’s not like Taylor had any interest, but it probably didn’t look too good that the day after meeting Karlee I had another girl with me. Ah well.

We walk back through some crazy back streets to get back. Clearly these guys know Barcelona. Back at the hostel we plan to do dinner. Taylor was at a new hostel and wasn’t up for it. She said she may meet up to go out later but never did. I don’t know if we got the proper goodbye, but I hope she had a fantastic rest of her journey and that she found what she was looking for, and doesn’t hate returning to college (and Ohio) too much.

Joining Karlee, Kelly and these random guys who spoke Spanish we all went to La Fonda. I learned that the Quebecois guy would join us. I wasn’t too happy about it. They wondered why I would hold a grudge, but really? The guy peed on my shit. I only pee on myself, not other people’s stuff. And how fucked up can you be? It almost seemed purposeful, and I don’t like him. But I was starving and I wanted to hang with Karlee, so I went. Glad I did, because the paella was wonderful and massive (it had chicken, beef, mussels, shrimp in rice and veggies). I also got to try arroz negro, which was black rice with calamari and squid ink. It was amazing. I also had sangria and accidentally said “me too” after the gals ordered water, forgetting to specify tap water. This was the first and only time I paid for water on my travels. Fucking girls.

The sangria was wine-y and strong. I had promised to meet up with Taylor at a certain time, and she never showed, but I had to bail on the dinner early. I felt really rude for doing so.

Once back at the hostel I decided what the hell, so I went back to Room 202 for night #3. This time it was only Team Poland in the room, with the same results, though this time with whiskey and coke. They gave me 1-2, and then I left. I met a New Zealander named Sam and a few attractive American gals in Room 201. One of them was Casey, who was from Bellingham (we’re FB official)! It was a more intimate gathering for sure. I tried wine with diet pepsi which was actually delicious albeit sacrilegious. Who knew.

Then I went down to the bar with EVERYONE. Karlee and her crowd returned later, and Olly and friends from the night before had materialized. They had thought I was dead or missing all day, because Olly had no idea how the night ended, and they hadn’t seen me, and the rest of us had separated early. It was hilarious to see them all again, and I was surprised to see how happy they all were to see me. I didn’t know we had had that much fun. Even hot black girl loved my appearance.

I hung with Dan, Deane and Wes and a few girls. There was Mikaela from Austria and some chick from Switzerland, Karlee and her crew, Casey from Bellingham, Daniel the Norwegian, Holly (Taylor’s Aussie friend from earlier), etc. It was crazy and so much fun. The Kabul Hostel was easily the best party hostel I would stay at during my travels.

But Karlee and company wanted to go out (in hindsight I should’ve gotten Mikaela’s contact info), and we went to Chupito’s, Spanish for shots. Which proved to be a fitting name for a place that specialized in flaming shots. There must have been over 100 different shots on their menu, all will great names. I of course ordered the Harry Potter, and the El Diablo was nuts (lots of fire). I also had some delicious shot that was put in an orange peel with a ton of sugar, though that may have been the Harry Potter.

They all wanted to go clubbing, but I had to wake up at about 6 AM, so I said goodbye to Karlee and vowed to keep in touch. I couldn’t remember her last name, our phone numbers were fucked, so it’d be tough. But it did feel weird that second day. The first night was almost perfect, but the awkward/horrible hangover of a morning that followed and the differences that emerged in the second day just made everything feel off.

Next: Raquel and Sevilla!

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