Here is a very belated re-cap of my almost month old trip to Europe. The first two of 3 days in Barcelona were not the best days/nights of my life. Going from a 5 star hotel to a hostel with a man who snores so loud it could rouse the dead, showers that sometimes work, having to use your beach towel for a shower towel and the stress of being in charge of your rogue 18-year old cousin who you lost at the club and couldn't find for hours, then you find out he walked an hour back to the hostel because he wasn't sure of the name or address of the hostel to get a cab, needless to say, I needed a little respite. And it came in the most unexpected form.
After a day of touring and walking and hiking, having an emotional, draining day, not having slept the night before and in no mood to socialize, I went back to the hostel to shower and change, and I was fully prepared to sit in my bed and read my kindle for the rest of the night, and try to fall asleep before our snoring/freight train of a roommate came back from the bar.
When I got back to the room after my shower, our 4th roommate was in there. My only interaction with her was the night before when I woke her up by turning on the light, I loudly apologized and then she went back to sleep. So my assumption was that she was in no mood to deal with the loud, inconsiderate americans in her room. So I apologized again for last night and we started chatting. S ( I will call her S) is Swiss, spoke German, French, Italian, English, Spanish and Portuguese and was in Barcelona for a week on vacation, alone. She asked me if I had eaten dinner, and if I wanted to grab a bite with her. I hadn't eaten, I would like to join her, so I changed and we set off on her bike, with me sitting on top of the panel above the tire, trying not to knock her off balance, fall and knock my teeth out, or take out a curious bystander. Quite a feat and probably quite a sight. We ended up sitting outside in an almost deserted square a few blocks away from La Rambla, the bustling, loud, overpriced tourist thoroughfare. It was quiet, cool, peaceful and there were only a few other patrons (and a street cleaning truck). We had some of the most delicious tapas, made pleasant conversation with the waitress, and thousands of miles from home I found someone who seemed to be the more cultured, soft-spoken and sweetest version of myself. We had lots in common, plenty to talk about and I felt all my stress melt away almost immediately. It was like we had been friends for years. It was so refreshing and enjoyable, I felt like for a few hours I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I was so happy. We went to a local bar after dinner for a few beers and continued to swap stories of college, working, dating, friends etc. We made friends with a guy who had his black lab as his wingman at the bar (foolproof method), got hit on by some locals, and soaked up a bar full of rock and roll memorabilia, that felt like we were anywhere but Spain.
My second night of sleep was much better, maybe because of my improved mood, or the fact that S had also been annoyed by his snoring, and I had someone to commiserate with and complain to. She was leaving the next afternoon, but before bed we decided to continue our conversation at breakfast the next day. Breakfast turned into brunch/lunch and more laughing and conversations.
Then fate stepped in. We had started talking about our families, and I told her that my Nana had passed away in June, my dad's mom, unexpectedly, it was my first grandparent to lose, how hard it has been on my family, and that it had been a stressful summer. Then she told me that she had lost her grandmother, her dad's mom, first grandparent to pass away, and it happened two days after my Nana died. I felt like my heart had stopped beating, but I was filled with peace and happiness. I believe, without a doubt, that Nana saw that I was struggling, and sent me this sweet, understanding, caring, kind, wonderful person to ease the sadness/stress in my heart/head. Or her Nana and my Nana met in heaven, and decided to cross our paths. Whatever it was, it filled my heart and soul with hope, reminded me that people are put in your life for a reason, and that things work in strange and miraculous ways sometimes.
It still gives me chills to think about, and whenever I tell the story I get emotional, but I am so thankful for that experience, to give me back the faith that I had lost in the hustle and bustle. When S had to leave to catch her flight, we hugged for a long time, and promised to stay in touch. I can't think of the words to thank her for coming into my life, I have tried several times, but once I find the words, I will tell her, but I think she might already know :)
I didn't even get to Switzerland, Austria or Germany yet. Oops.
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