Feet Up Hostel, Barcelona
We arrived in Barcelona on the overnight train. The bunks were sold out, so we were sentenced to sit upright for the eight hour journey. We watched a golden sunrise over fields, palm trees and the Mediterranean as the train crawled the last leg along the coast towards the city. A few photos were attempted, but it was quickly abandoned in favor of soaking up the beauty of this new place. We had only traveled 300 miles, but Madrid felt just as far away as Iowa.
Our hostel was on the northwestern edge of Barcelona. It had good reviews on hostelworld.com and was priced a few Euros less than the massive party hostels closer to the center. Plus, it was called Feet Up Hostel and they had a hammock. So, clearly, this was where we were going to stay.
We spent six days there and it was truly a home away from home. We met some wonderful people, had great late night conversations in the courtyard, cooked dinner most evenings in the kitchen and ate it on the rooftop, and had coffee and pastries at “our” neighborhood bakery every morning on our way to the metro.