First full day in Barcelona!

Dia uno in Barcelona consisted of a lot of rain and a lot of Gaudi. Our first stop was some Gaudi house on the like Placa de Gracia (spelling?). Zach and Michelle were easily able to get student discounts even though neither of them had appropriate identification. The ticket ladies essentially let them go in for free. I, on the other hand, was like, practically forced to recite fun facts from European History to prove that I've sat in a classroom before. And all because my student identification card didn't have a date on it! Gaudi would roll over in his grave if he knew about this.

Once we entered, Zach and Michelle whipped out their cameras and got to work. Michelle took lots of nice pictures of the fanciful architecture; Zach sort of just ran around taking pictures of random shit, including, but not limited to, every door knob, screws, and like, exit signs. When I called him out for it, he replied, "What, it's for my Mom!" Lucky her.

After this attraction, we tried to stop by the Picasso museum. Despite the pouring rain, the ticket line appeared to stretch all the way to the W. (Inside joke alert.) After a flurry of confusion, we gave up on being cultured Europeans and decided to just be fat Americans instead. Yes, we went to the Museum of chocolate. And yes, we only liked it because the ticket to the museum of Chocolate was printed on a chocolate bar. Hell yes! Price for three chocolate bars and a place to stand while it rained: 20 euro.

Dinner that night took place at a restaurant in El Born called Cal Pep. Jeremy recommended this restaurant to us. But he also apparently recommended it to like, 345 of his other closest friends because we ran into a bunch of them in the restaurant. Small world!

After dinner, we hit up Chupitos. Either we picked the worst Chupitos ever, or you guys were just innocent juniors when you went there and thought that cheap shots were like, the coolest thing since hand-sliced multi-grain. The scene at Chupitos was primarily British, so I naturally started to do my best "Charlie bit me" impression. The Brits did not appreciate this and began singing our national anthem (fun fact: they knew the words better than Xtina Auguilera). All in all, our drunk escape from Chupitos was all too reminiscent of the Revolutionary War. The British are coming, yo!

Before Razzmatazz, we the trio hit up somet decently fancy gin bar. Michelle and I let our American flag fly and ordered a bucket of beer. Zach, however, went for it and ordered some fancy gin drink. The bartender then proceeded to engage in the most elaborate drink-making process ever. He was like, peeling limes behind his back, pouring gin down the crown of his nose, and also catching doves and then forcing them to shed tears into the drink for garnish. Michelle and I could not hold back our laughter, which was undeniably fueled by our bucket of beer.

Razzmatazz was basically what we expected. However, ending up next to a group of young adults who ended up working at the same company as Michelle's dad was definitely an unexpected highlight. Fun fact for the young adults, though: don't try and network outside of a club called Razzmatazz. These kids were probably the only people in the history of Razzmatazz to reach into their pockets and pull out business cards.

In other news, I'm extremely behind in the blogging department. On the way: the final two nights in Barcelona, Cannes, Saint Tropez, and Florence!