Barcelona tales: Egg and Chips.

So, after being allowed a table despite my tattoos, I proceeded to order like a backpacker, one dish by one. First, tuna tartare, and then beef carpaccio. They must have thought I was Gillian McKeith! I also had an Aperol spritz.

As I scribbled/typed up my blog on the terrace, I felt like an international travel writer, although I felt I should be including more tags in my blogs if I was. And get sponsorship. Hint, hint.

I wandered back many miles to my hostel. I would never walk this far willingly at home in suffolk! I had timed it nicely so that most people would be just going to bed, so I wouldn’t be awkwardly hanging out, nor would I be tripping over people, or crunching them as I clambered up to my top bunk position!

As soon I entered my room, my bottom bunk buddy said hi. This was super cool, and not something I had foreseen. Nobody in the previous hostel had spoken. Within minutes he was googling and marvelling at the Egg and Chips plant on YouTube. It’s the easiest way to explain what I do sometimes! More people came into the bedroom too, and we had lovely group chats. I really like hostels!! In our room were people from Brazil, Philippines, Argentina and Turkey.

I wasn’t sure of the rules of when to stop talking and when to sleep though, but it naturally trailed off after around an hour, after I’d given my super swish online booking tips on sightseeing to the crowd. The lights didn’t go off though, were they on a timer, what would happen? I felt too amateur to ask! The final girl came in a little later and immediately shut the window. I’m not how this went down with the others, as I was too busy sleep-texting a loved one.

The morning came too soon. I was kept awake/semi-conscious by a medley of sounds. Girls mumbling, boys snorting, covers flapping…. that last one’s a joke, by the way! I got up and decided to shower. The feeble sink wash of my T-shirt the day before hadn’t removed the smell of sweat very well. But, what was the deal with towels? I hadn’t read the check-in leaflet, damn. I dried myself on my surprisingly absorbent floral shorts, and squashed them into the outer compartment on my bag. I then left the room. Should I have said goodbye?? Not sure, everyone left in the room was asleep. Was I supposed to kiss their foreheads and ask if they had a Pinterest board?!

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