Blogs and Other Things

Tuesday, March 11, 2025 –

I’m running out of ways to start these.

Hello!

Original

If you’re here for the pigeons, I’m sorry to disappoint; the boys went home last week.

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I initially thought I’d take this weekend slower, and while I didn’t fly anywhere, I was once again in the clouds.

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Twice.

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But it was sort of by accident.

When I got home from Lisbon Monday night, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had a strange feeling I’d forgotten how to do nothing (one of my greatest strengths), so I drowned myself in sports highlights.

Some people have alcohol; I have the Leafs.

I’m not sure which is worse.

Anyway.

As a result, I made a distinct plan this weekend to do absolutely nothing.

But as you’ll see, that didn’t last very long (I rarely do).

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Friday

Friday morning, I made the split-second decision to go to Blanes that night, a beach town about an hour north of Barcelona, despite the fact that it was pouring rain (and would be the next day, too).

However, as I was packing to leave around 5, I got nervous as my Airbnb host hadn’t actually accepted the request yet. So, I sent him some messages (to which he didn’t respond), and after about another half hour of waiting, I cancelled the reservation.

And the relief I felt was like crack, which I now realize was probably a sign.

A sign to slow down.

With the position I’m in, there’s no point in forcing myself into uncomfortable situations just for the sake of talking about them afterwards; if it’s more stressful than fulfilling, what’s the use?

(If you’re reading this Nolan I have no regrets)

Anyway, long story short: I stayed home on Friday.

And thank goodness I did.

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Saturday

Saturday, I woke up, and made another rash (but calculated) decision: it was time to be a tourist in my own city; it was time to climb Tibidabo.

I admit, it’s embarrassing it took me this long to scale Barcelona’s famous mountain, but what was probably more embarrassing was how long it took me to find my way out of the train station.

(13 minutes)

(All I had to do was press a button)

Before I left the house, though, I had no clue where to start the hike. So I googled it, and I was set.

If you’re ever looking to do it yourself, here’s the blog I followed, written by a girl named Vanessa.

No, she’s not paying me.

(But that could change @vanessa)

Anyway, here are some photos (mine, not Vanessa’s).

(Hers are way better)

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For context, in the hike’s early stages, I walked past a house that has some history I wasn’t interested in reading about on the sign.

Hope that helps!

In other news, the forest was as lush as they come.

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This may be one of my favourite pictures I’ve ever taken.

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So I took it twice.

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And the higher you got, the foggier it became.

(And boy did I get high)

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And when I reached the top, I was in a cloud.

It was a great view.

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Jokes aside, I couldn’t have asked for a better experience than the bliss of perceiving absolutely nothing.

I also considered walking back down the mountain, but I stumbled upon this diagonal train thing and couldn’t help myself.

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Once I made it down, I took my sister’s boyfriend’s friend’s girlfriend’s advice (shoutout Shanan) and popped by the Sagrada Família, which was apparently designed by an architect named Antoni Gaudi (sounds like a painter if you ask me).

I didn’t realize they had cranes back in Gaudi’s time, but it adds a nice touch.

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For what it’s worth, I did try to go inside, but tickets were sold out for the day.

They were also 26 Euros, so it was probably for the best.

Regardless, all that Gaudi research made me hungry; thankfully, Taco Bell was right across the street.

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After an unconstitutional bowel movement, I headed to Barcelona’s stadium to watch them play Osasuna.

Unfortunately, though, a team doctor passed away shortly before the game, and it was cancelled about 20 minutes before it was supposed to start.

I imagine it was a pretty traumatic day for the team, and I also felt bad for the tourists who missed what probably would’ve been a highlight of their trip.

As for me, I’m going again tonight.

So I can’t really complain.

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But I can’t speak for my bank account.

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Sunday

Sunday, we went to Montserrat (a mountain about an hour train ride from Barça).

We included me, Sam and Lukas, two British guys I work with at the school. We met up with Lukas at the top (he climbed it the day before).

But Sam and I started from the bottom.

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At the base of the mountain, there’s an entire village you have to walk through to reach the trail.

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And as we kept moving up, the views only got better.

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And better.

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And better.

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I’m only joking (Fred Weasley voice).

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While I’m far from experienced, it was probably the hardest hike I’ve ever done. The terrain can be incredibly steep, and if you go after it rains (which we did), then you will slip, so try not to make it deadly.

Also, just to confirm that they’re real and not figments of my imagination: Sam and Lukas.

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You guys see them, right?

Oh dear.

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On a final note, last week I mentioned I’d be going to Manchester the weekend before I came home.

I’m here to tell you that I lied.

Well, that’s a lie.

I didn’t lie.

I was lied to.

By who?

God, probably.

And Manchester United.

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In case that wasn’t clear, I’m no longer going to Manchester. I’d planned on seeing the Manchester derby on Saturday, April 4th, but the game got moved to Sunday, which no longer worked for my flights. Plus, I’d also planned on getting back for what may be the final game of my ball hockey championship on Sunday, April 5th, so I couldn’t risk missing that.

So I’ll be flying home from Barcelona now.

Why is this important?

It’s not, really.

But when I edit this, it’ll remind me to book my flight.

So I should probably get on that.

See you next week.