After an exhaustive 17 hour energy, we set foot on Barcelonian soil. Actually it was more like a shiny airport floor. We went through the hoopla of getting our luggage, taking money out of a very unwilling ATM, and found a cab. From my first glimpse of Barcelona I was wowed with how beautiful it was and how similar parts of it were to my hometown in Romania.
Our cab driver didn't speak any English and there was horrible traffic. Luckily my broken Italian helped resolve the situation and we got to the hotel. An ok place, nothing to write home about, but we weren't planning on doing much sleeping after all.
That night we headed to dinner at 11 PM. Yes, 11 PM. A chic place named Shoko with dim lights, ultra cool couches and trendy decor that turned into a club at midnight. We made it to the club portion and started our night of drinks and dancing, when we went some curious Italian characters. I actually met somebody named Fabio. But he looked nothing like a Fabio. Really nice guy with very curly hair and a goofy grin permanently planted on his face.
When I chatted with one of the other Italians I found out he was getting married soon. But he wasn't sure to who, he had two choices. (WTF?) Is this real life Bachelor or something? Got to say he didn't look like a bachelor either...
After we decided to head over to Opium, another club, with the Italians following us. Not sure how this happened, but a pretty Spaniard decided to grab my hand and catch my attention. I basically spent the rest of my time that night with him (we were still at the club of course). He asked for my phone number and sent me a text the next day and asked me on a date.
The catch? He spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish. Lucky for me the language of love is universal. Jk Jk I'm not that cheesy.
Regardless I had to have one of the girls translate his texts to me so that I could figure what the actual plans were. He picked me up, looked devastatingly fashionable while doing so, and took me to a bar on the beach to grab a drink.
Despite that we hardly spoke a word of each other's languages. It was one of the better dates I've been on. We somehow got along well enough to somewhat understand each other by the end of the date. I know about his hobbies, where his family is from, why he's an electrician (apparently because he was a bad boy and did not go to university), what part of the city he lives in, some of his past dating history, etc. The real award goes to Google Translate. Thank you thank you thank you. But also to gestures and forming a good connection. And man is he a good kisser. And very sweet. And sounds incredibly sexy when Catalonian Spanish is flowing out of his mouth. Unfortunately the date ended at about 1:30 AM because I had to catch an early flight to Ibiza. Ibiza was quite a place, more on that later
In conclusion, I am definitely a fan of Spaniards ;)
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