Merci, Paris. Hola, Spain.

Hailey and I were rather busy in Paris, the time flew by and we had to cram a lot of things into the short two night/three days we had there. We had thought that we would arrive around lunchtime Wednesday afternoon, but the train we were planning on taking wouldn't take us. So an extra five hours tacked on the the planned original three got us there later than we wanted, but did give us a bit of time in Antwerp, Belgium. Where of course we had ourselves some waffles. We finally made it to Paris, checked in our Hostel had a late dinner, then walked to and posed in front of the Moulin Rouge. After some aimless walking we then headed off towards the Eiffel Tower so we could watch it sparkle. Hailey and I bought ourselves a well deserved bottle of cheap (and pretty good) champagne- stole some dixi-cups from our hostel and sat in the grass for the 40,000 Euro a year light show. During the walking tour we took the next day, we also learned that someone is married to the Eiffel Tower, the physical object. Strange.

We did the walking tour the next day, and then got pretty for a fancy dinner that Hailey's Grandfather treated us to. (THANK YOU!). For a second, we felt like we weren't backpacking and living in hostels, it was glorious. Afterwards we went on another pub crawl with the same company as our walking tour. 

The next morning we headed off for what I was looking forward to most in Paris; lunch under the Eiffel Tower. We stopped off at a grocery store, got salami, baguettes, cheese, diet coke (cola light here) and had ourselves a little picture perfect picnic. That is, until the gypsies attacked. I noticed the family walk in, three (maybe four) kids and two moms, all toting signs in a language I can't read. They walked around the park to all the people with food shoving the signs in our faces and speaking in a language I also can't understand. They come to us, and then leave and head off to check out the rest of the crowds lunch. I guess they weren't satisfied with anybody else's lunch because they came back for us. We were warned of the gypsies during our walking tour, and told stories about how the ladies will throw their infant (alive/real infant) at you so your hands are occupied and they are free to steal your belongings. While these kids weren't toting around any babies I was still concerned for my purse, so the food was the last thing I was worried about. I was clutching on to my purse for dear life yelling at these kids to get their papers out of my face- they are about 10 years old, and I am terrified. They probably thought they were sneaky, but I let it happen, they put the papers over our food "hiding" their thieving and ran off laughing in our faces. We were almost finished, they left my diet coke (which is most important) and probably needed the food more than we did. The five minutes following our "attack" was probably the best part. We didn't know how to react, laughing to the point of tears was how it ended and every time we joke about it we can't help but still laugh. So thanks, gypsy kids.

Side note: people in Paris really do walk around eating giant sticks of bread, all day, all the time. The cartoons don't lie.

We left for Barcelona last night and took our first night train, which neither of us really knew what to expect. We knew we were in a sleeper car, but didn't know exactly how that worked. Did you have to go to bed right away? There is probably a living room or something, right? No. We had a bed with no room to even sit straight up. It was quite an experience, but surprisingly a pretty good night sleep. We woke up the next morning to an ocean front view of Spain's coastline. GORGEOUS!! 

We walked around Barcelona all day today, and then (more of Hailey's request than mine) caught part of The Champions League Final, which Barca just won. How awesome is it that we are here coincidentally? The town is going crazy, and I am too worn out to participate. Tomorrow... 

Tomorrow is what I have been looking forward to the most on this trip; THE BEACH!! And strawberries from the market.