Even when you’re traveling, you still have to think about domestic things like dinner and laundry. We were ten days in, and our underwear situation was getting pretty dire. James and I needed to find ourselves a Laundromat or else we’d have to start re-using, and that’s just gross. Our campsite, the Tres Estrellas, although certainly rambling as my Lonely Planet book had promised, was not equipped with a washer or dryer. So into the city we would have to go.
On the bus into Barcelona, James and I consulted my Lonely Planet book. We found one little listing of one little Laundromat somewhere off Las Ramblas, but conveniently, no street names and no idea of scale on the map. It looked extremely close to the Barcelona Mar Youth Hostel, so we figured if we could find that, we could figure out where to do our laundry. (By the way, on the bus ride between Barcelona and the campsite, we kept seeing women at the side of the road waiting or hauling white plastic chairs to the roadside. We soon realized that these were “working women” who were awaiting clients.)
Working Girl
James and I somehow found our way to the tiny Laundromat tucked away in the back streets of Barcelona off a quiet square. We felt very far away from the bustling boulevards, although Las Ramblas was just a few streets over. We sat on small plastic chairs reading while we waited for our washing to finish. It felt so strange to be doing something as normal as laundry in Barcelona.
Walking Distance
We weren’t too far away from the Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona, so when we finished we took our bag of freshly laundered underwear and visited the museum. What I remember most about finding the museum was that it was in a square that was filled with light. Emerging from small streets snaking their way between tall buildings was like suddenly opening your eyes. The white stones were absolutely brilliant. The Museum of Contemporary Art was light and airy, with dark galleries and high ceilings. There was an exhibition by Francis Alÿs called “Walking Distance from the Studio.” James was familiar with the body of work and was excited to see the video installations of Mexico City. He was also particularly inspired by the building itself, and later painted two images of it.
Unable to resist the market, we explored again to find food for that night’s dinner. The sights and smells were mouthwatering, from the salty cured meat to the fresh seafood, the sweet fruits to the spice stalls. We purchased mushrooms, red wine, green beans, and steak. There’s nothing like a well-cooked steak in a garlic and red wine sauce with mushrooms and green beans cooked and eaten outdoors while the sun sets. I think most food you eat while camping tastes better because you’re outdoors and you’re hungry.
Meat Market
Fish Market
James and I discovered that while the Tres Estrellas was large and rambling, it wasn’t large and rambling enough. We had been assigned a space in the “young” section of the campsite with other teenagers and college-aged students, young 20-somethings who were on vacation to party. They drank and sang and played bongo drums and didgeridoos all night long, screaming with drunken laughter and general shenanigans. James and I, who were on vacation to see and experience as much as we could, were awarded an extremely poor night’s sleep, only being able to rest after everyone had passed out cold. In the morning we walked past mountains of beer cans and wine bottles, discarded musical instruments, and young men asleep on inflatable pool rafts with strange assortments of clothing. Fortunately, we would only have one more night at the campsite before moving on.
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