A journey back to Barcelona but this time the aim was meant to be longer to experience living among the locals and also venturing into other parts of Barcelona for photography.
Train from Segovia only brought us to Madrid. We had to change another train for Barcelona. Here’s this bit about Madrid. There are not many signage to tell you how to get out of the station. Ask around and no one seems to either speak English or knew the way out. We dragged our luggage from one platform to another and after almost 15mins, we decided to take our chances. Madrid has a huge train station but it can be a nightmare as we needed to queue for luggage to be scanned to get from the current platform to the next hall to again queue for trains for Barcelona. There was only 1 booth available to service the entire hall of passengers. Queuing took almost forever. By the time we got into the hall and figured out where is our platform, our train just left the station. There were no refunds for no-show and neither were they bothered about what you had to say. They got me to queue at the waiting hall only to realise that by the time I got to the front, I was queuing in the wrong area.
Sounds great, isn’t it? Here’s my tip, accept the limited weight your body has the energy to carry and remember to always ask if upper floors are only accessible by lifts.
Why? Simple. The last thing you need is throwing a sudden tantrum that you had enough of lifting or even touching your luggage. What most of this being as a packaged trial? Well, panting with exhaustion up each flight of stairs and dropping flat without the desire to move at all once you arrive at the apartment with your luggage.
We booked an apartment within walking distance from Barcelona Sants through Booking.com. As much as I was trying hard to place as much enthusiasm making this trip fun, adventurous and delighted over my photos, I was quite put off by the state of the apartment and my room. There was dust everywhere, the dining table being quite wobbly, the kitchen utensils seems like bits of mismatched odds and ends, and mismatched cracked plates and bowls.
Did we stay? Yes and No. I tolerated until the second last night when I could take it no more but to book a hotel just nearby to the airport. BAH (Barcelona Airport Hotel) was a real lifesaver. For once I felt comfortable in Barcelona.