Rebounding

Recovering from vacation is a bitch. Not so much in the tired, worn down recovery, but in recovering from mind sets. For the past 3 weeks I have been completely free of any obligations. Facing life again is foreign and unwelcome. I find myself wanting to crawl into bed and escape. While I am fighting these things, allow me to give some perspectives from the final destinations in my trip.

Barcelona is a much more tourist friendly location than Madrid or Pamplona. The big, well-to-do shopping areas, fine dining, english friendliness make Barcelona less intimidating. The sights around the city are fantastic. Montjuic, Museums (Picasso museum being the one which grabbed my interest), olympic park, parc guell, Gaudi buildings everywhere, and the beach (which you may or may not be interested to know is topless friendly) are just a few of the attractions. The city fulfilled the daydreams I have been having about it since I was a child. Those planning a trip to Barcelona are doing themselves a great favor. I stayed at Centric Point which is a couple miles north of the beach on Passeig de Gracia. It is in a very nice part of town with a great atmosphere. I spent a rainy night playing a game of spoons with special drinking rules in the hostel bar which was very lively. One of the game participants had been in an altercation the night before and arrested. His court date was scheduled for one day after his train reservations, so he didn't believe a return trip to Spain would ever be prudent. Of course, he had to be a fucking American. Just one of the many characters from hostels.

After Barcelona I spent two days in Paris. Paris is beautiful. Every street corner seems to offer a picturesque statue with a cafe or street vendor adding life to the very old city. My days were filled with site seeing. The louvre was overwhelming. I almost felt it was too big. I spent over 5 hours there and didn't even touch an entire floor. The history and sites in Paris are remarkable, but I didn't become attached to the city like I did Madrid and Barcelona.

Finally, a train shipped me to London and Cambridge to finish my trip. I had a chance to spend a year in Cambridge attaining a masters, but didn't take it for several reasons. While I am thrilled with the directions my life is taking, I somewhat regret not living in England for the year. Being in Cambridge certainly pulled out these feelings. Small cafes and restaurants are littered amongst the ancient buildings where some of the greatest minds in human history were developed. I attended the graduation of a certain special someone while I was there. The event was as history drenched and proper as one would expect. London was as great as expected. I had spent time in London before and returning only confirmed my fondness for the city. Devouring fish and chips in a London pub is a must.

Overall, I couldn't be more pleased with my trip. There were no great tragedies, the weather always seemed to be perfect, I met some unique personalities, and spent time with a familiar personality which I greatly appreciate. Travelling from hostel to hostel is a worthwhile experience for anyone. Being in unfamiliar countries with languages you don't know can be intimidating at times, but breaking out of comfortable situations can lead to great growth. As for the cities and countries themselves, I wholeheartedly endorse all of them. Barcelona, London, and Madrid were my favorite destinations in that order.

I hope to slowly switch gears now. Thoughts of medicine and school have been fleeting, but I want to start medical school on the best foot. I needed some time for me, but my goal is to use my time helping all of us. Wow, that sounds fucking corny, but sometimes I can't help myself.