Yes, I'm back Barcelona

Sunday I woke up early, checked out of the hostel, and walked to the Picasso Museum. This is the only picture I could take before getting yelled at in three languages. I hate it when museums ban photography. It was an interesting exhibit although they had a strict people flow policy that made me feel rushed, and I don't like to be rushed. Picasso was an interesting fellow. This is a painting he made as a reaction to Velazquez's princess in "Las Meninas" It's interesting to see how his work went from being very academic to jarring colors and abstract forms. He was either a innovative genius or drank too much Absinthe, probably both.

After that museum I walked over to this gorgeous park which was having a little festival with kids games, a temporary wall for graffiti, food, music, and lots of people. I walked around taking pictures and came across, what else? but an arch, probablt has something to do with triumph if I know Europe.




After the park I booked it back to the hostel to get my bag then walked to the train which took me to the airport. I should have guessed something was wrong when the train has barely any people on it, but leave it to me to be oblivious. I began walking toward security when over the loud speaker I heard the announcement that the entire airport had been shut down due to the volcanic ash. I looked out the glass doors and the sun was shining, so I turned to the nearest airport employee and asked if that was a sick joke. She said no then directed me to the line for my air carrier. I waited in line for an hour and a half to switch my flight to Monday. Then hopped back on the bus to get to the train to get back to the city, because there was no way I was going to spend 24 hours in the airport. I got back to the hosteling hoping ang praying they had an available bed for the night, and as it happens they had had several cancellations because of the volcanic ash. So I put my stuff in another room and headed out to watch the sunset on the fountains in Placa Catalunya. I was handed a flier for a flamenco dancing show. Perhaps because it was Sunday night, I was the only one who showed up for it, so instead of creepily going alone, I went into a nearby restaurant and got a got a drink and dinner and tried not to think about how much I hated Iceland.