Adios, España
Our last day in Spain was a half & half … half repositioning, half day to enjoy the sights.
Early morning flights and Spanish late night culture don’t really mix well. We’ve been averaging a bed time somewhere around 1 or 2 am, and with a flight check-in of 7:30am, we were really feeling it on the way to the airport.
After a short flight back to Barcelona, we headed straight to our hostel to drop our bags and then make our way into the city center.
Eli had some last minute shopping to complete, and we wanted to hit up one of our favorite hidden gem tapas spots one last time.
After completing these tasks, we were not really sure what to do with the rest of our day. I knew I didn’t want to succumb to our tiredness and head back to the hostel, so we headed towards another Nomad Coffee location, and were rewarded with an extremely charming spot for an afternoon iced latte.
Still with no idea what we should do, we wandered the backstreets and narrow corridors and eventually happened upon the Arc de Triomf. A quiet park next to the arc gave us a chance to chill for a bit, before making our way to find a corner spot for a drink to cool down.
As the sun slowly faded below the horizon, we sipped our cocktails and reminisced on the last two weeks of amazing experiences. Favorite spots, unexpected discoveries, foods savored, cultural differences, future trips and dreams, and so much more were discussed.
I always become overly sentimental at the end of a trip, and this day was no different. In an effort to squeeze every last drop of Spain from the remaining moments we had, I convinced Eli to keep walking … much farther than he wanted.
Eventually we made our way to the neighborhood near our hostel and began looking for a bite to eat. What we found was the perfect ending to our Spanish adventures … a small neighborhood square, surrounded with tapas spots, full of only locals out for a nightly meal.
The square was jam packed! Kids running everywhere, friends and family enjoying food and drink in a communal celebration, everyone knowing everyone … except us.
We simply found a spot to blend in and soak it all up. It was likely the most authentic Spanish moment of the entire trip and we both felt so blessed to have experienced it.
What lay ahead, was a daunting 25 hours of air travel. Barcelona to Munich, Munich to Chicago, extreme layover in Chicago, and finally, Chicago to Minneapolis.
Adios, España … you will forever have our hearts.