continued from the previous post.
rounding a street corner, i walk into a small café and ask once more for the hotel. the bartender-barista wasn't sure but enlisted the help of the ten people inside the café, who all began discussing where they thought the hotel was, seemingly arguing over who was more right. from what i could understand, one man sitting by the bar instructed me in spanish to walk four blocks down and one block over, using his hands to lay out perpendicular streets as he thought to himself. muchas gracias! i yell to the room on my way out to their goodbyes and return on my quest.
walking down the street and looking down cross streets, i notice a large sign with "ac" in large bold capital letters peeking above the surrounding buildings. it wasn't near where i was directed, but thinking i could check it out anyway, i head towards the intersection and immediately recognize the familiar corner façade of the building from the hotel's website i looked at out of curiosity back in the states. the sliding glass doors part with a hiss as i approach, and somewhere in the utter relief, i am sure a deep sigh escapes my lips. i enter the cooling lobby and head towards the reception desk to ask if my friend had checked in - the same friend i last saw, what now seemed like ages ago, standing on the subway platform with all our baggage before becoming nothing but a blur.
with a few taps on the keyboard in front of her, the receptionist informs me that my friend hadn't check in yet, but i do anyway, getting my key to go up to the room. picking up a book on barcelona from the bedroom desk, i go back down to the lobby to wait. one way or another, i hoped to god my friend would meet everyone here in the lobby at eight in the evening as we were scheduled to do so. flipping through my book nervously as i finished a smoke, i pull out my final cigarette from its beige and gold box - the cigarette upturned by the same lost friend when i first opened the pack, telling me it was lucky. wishing for truth, while feeling silly about even wishing such things, i light up and take a deep drag, half glad to have just ended my daylong search-and-stroll through the streets and underbelly of an alien city.
as i sat smoking my final supposed lucky cigarette, i continue to glance over articles and photos from my magazine with disinterested attention, every so often looking up through the lobby windows at passing taxi cars, imagining my friend might step out of one. as my cigarette nears its end, and i prepare to ash it in a nearby tin after one last puff, i am jolted out of lasstitude and a melancholy stupor by a slap on both shoulders from behind. suddenly, i knew.
barcelona, spain.
rounding a street corner, i walk into a small café and ask once more for the hotel. the bartender-barista wasn't sure but enlisted the help of the ten people inside the café, who all began discussing where they thought the hotel was, seemingly arguing over who was more right. from what i could understand, one man sitting by the bar instructed me in spanish to walk four blocks down and one block over, using his hands to lay out perpendicular streets as he thought to himself. muchas gracias! i yell to the room on my way out to their goodbyes and return on my quest.
walking down the street and looking down cross streets, i notice a large sign with "ac" in large bold capital letters peeking above the surrounding buildings. it wasn't near where i was directed, but thinking i could check it out anyway, i head towards the intersection and immediately recognize the familiar corner façade of the building from the hotel's website i looked at out of curiosity back in the states. the sliding glass doors part with a hiss as i approach, and somewhere in the utter relief, i am sure a deep sigh escapes my lips. i enter the cooling lobby and head towards the reception desk to ask if my friend had checked in - the same friend i last saw, what now seemed like ages ago, standing on the subway platform with all our baggage before becoming nothing but a blur.
with a few taps on the keyboard in front of her, the receptionist informs me that my friend hadn't check in yet, but i do anyway, getting my key to go up to the room. picking up a book on barcelona from the bedroom desk, i go back down to the lobby to wait. one way or another, i hoped to god my friend would meet everyone here in the lobby at eight in the evening as we were scheduled to do so. flipping through my book nervously as i finished a smoke, i pull out my final cigarette from its beige and gold box - the cigarette upturned by the same lost friend when i first opened the pack, telling me it was lucky. wishing for truth, while feeling silly about even wishing such things, i light up and take a deep drag, half glad to have just ended my daylong search-and-stroll through the streets and underbelly of an alien city.
as i sat smoking my final supposed lucky cigarette, i continue to glance over articles and photos from my magazine with disinterested attention, every so often looking up through the lobby windows at passing taxi cars, imagining my friend might step out of one. as my cigarette nears its end, and i prepare to ash it in a nearby tin after one last puff, i am jolted out of lasstitude and a melancholy stupor by a slap on both shoulders from behind. suddenly, i knew.
barcelona, spain.
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