Barcelona

After a horrible train trip from Nice to Barcelona that spanned for nearly 12 hours, including a first encounter of bunking with strangers in an overnight train.. we finally arrived at our hostel that no one seemed to know where it was.

With the thought that my Barcelonian adventure was going to be comparable to Vicki Christina Barcelona, I was actually really excited.

However, little did I know, my passport had decided to carry on its own Spanish rendezvous... minus me. The shock realisation occured at the hostel when I was asked to produce my passport as ID. With my mum's only word of warning prior to departing ringing through my head "it doesn't matter what you lose, everything can be replaced. just DON'T lose your passport," I was really up the creek without a paddle.

Nice

Pretty nice place. A city built at the beach. The center town is quite pretty as well.
However venture even a few meters out of the main city center and it's like you have stepped out of toorak and into footscray. Not that there is anything wrong with footscray, of course. But you get the idea.
Didn't get to venture out to st tropez or monaco unfortunately.


A beach made of rocks?


Sick skaters tear up the skate park..


We'd love to know what the g-o was with the algerian pride brigade filling up the streets.