As part of a project I’ve been working on I was invited to Barcelona to take part in an all-day development workshop. I had never visited Barcelona before, so I seized the opportunity to not only meet and work with a group of experts on this project, but also do a bit of exploring of my own in the northern city so passionately identified (albeit unofficially) as the Catalan capital. It was also one of many firsts for me, as it was the first time in my life I was going to travel abroad on my own and I’d be doing it while visually impaired. Just as well I like a challenge, really.
The workshop was arranged for a Wedneday, so I decided I was going to fly out on a red-eye from Gatwick the day before and spend the day sightseeing, spend the Thursday focusing on the workshop and then see if I could pack in anything else on the Thursday before flying home in the afternoon. The reality didn’t pan out quite that way, but it certainly was a whirlwind trip!
I made it to Gatwick at 5am, hand luggage in tow, and found a corner of a coffee shop to squirrel myself away in with a coffee and a bacon sandwich before realising that I’d have to be in a state of high alert for my gate as I couldn’t see the departure boards clearly enough to see which I needed for my flight without standing immediately underneath the LED lights and straining my eyes hard as I could. Thankfully they announced the gate over the tannoy and I was able to find it without incident so I was feeling pretty pleased that I’d managed to get as far as boarding and had managed to fit in breakfast.
Touchdown in Barcelona-El Prat and things started to go a bit wonky. I’d travelled hand luggage only to keep things flexible and my plan had been to call an Uber to the hotel that had been arranged for the group. I promptly discovered two problems with this, one that Uber is banned from operating in Barcelona (at least at the time of writing) so I would need to use Lyft or one of the Spanish equivalents, and I didn’t know my way around the airport well enough to be able to guarantee a taxi would meet up with me in the right place anyway. A little panicked, I opted for a taxi from the rank outside, which got me there but did charge me around €40 for the privilege (would not recommend!).
The hotel was based out in the hospital district on the west side of the city and not immediately touristy, so soon as I’d ditched my bag I was back out on the streets to explore as far as I could. I decided that I was going to walk to Parque Güell and see what else I could see on the way as it was a fresh yet warm Spring morning. I love Spain every time I visit, and the wide. tree-lined promenades and sun reflecting against the warm terracota colours of the buildings in Barcelona were really lovely to stroll among. I was relying heavily on Google Maps and its little blue dot to navigate my way across the city to the Parque, which for the most part worked, but it didn’t at all prepare me for the hill it became clear I needed to climb to reach my destination! Steep, steep pavements and after a while a few flights of stairs and an escalator or two left me feeling not very sure-footed but I committed to the quest and was rewarded at the top with beautiful gardens and a lovely panorama of the city. I had attempted to take pictures but sadly discovered when I got home that due to lens flare they were all unusable, which was very frustrating but at least I have the memories in my head!
I was very grateful to have spent the day out in the sun, as the next day couldn’t have been more different. Starting early in the morning, our group met in the conference room of our hotel and, armed with a laptop, projector and a flip chart wrangled with our project until the early evening. It was a very intense but fascinating experience that I’ll go into in more detail another time, but it did mean that my second day in Barcelona was spent entirely indoors with the brief exception of dashing out in the evening for something to eat. Barcelona is meant to be gastronomically excellent, but as a woman travelling alone with very limited eyesight I wasn’t confident enough to go dimly-lit tapas bars to sample much of the local cuisine. That’ll have to be saved for next time!
Sadly on the Thursday the weather had turned and the warm rust-coloured buildings were turned drab and grey as it rained continuously from dawn til dusk. Not to be deterred, I turned up my coat hood and decided I would make one more expedition before I had to go to the airport. Because I wasn’t near anything, I had to make an executive decision which direction to go in – further east to the markets and the gothic quarter? To the coast? To the famous Camp Nou, home of the renowned Barca football team? In the end, I went for something I felt summed up Barcelona and would be immediately iconic in a photograph for posterity – the intimidating late Gothic spires of the Sagrada Familia basilica. The decision was helped by it both being easily accessible from the metro, and it having its own metro stop. I love using the various Metro networks when I’m in Europe, so it gave me an excuse to grab a ticket and hop on the next carriage straight there.
I’ll admit, world wonders, no matter how grandiose and impressive, have a tendency to be underwhelming in the rain. Looming and grey, the basilica was clearly a work of architectural genius but ultimately the experience left me feeling pretty cold. And damp. I don’t think I can blame the Sagrada for that though.
After that it was a case of rushing back on the metro and grabbing my bag before heading to the airport. Buoyed by how straightforward I found the Metro, I chose to take the Metro and an airport bus. Finding the correct bus stop was a bit of a ‘mare and I realised that while I had some limited conversational Spanish at my disposal it was Castilian (preferred in Madrid) rather than Catalan and I don’t feel that local people were predisposed to help me find anything. I also completely lacked the necessary vocabulary to explain my visual impairment in a foreign language, when meant that I started to get frustrated when people were confused that their directions weren’t going to be clear enough to help me. Either way, I managed to get my way onto an airport bus that thankfully got me back to the airport in time for me to grab a sandwich and wait for my flight home, which was only slightly delayed so I considered that a big success.
Overall, it was an amazing experience that I’m so glad I’ve had, but was so stressful at parts that I won’t rush to repeat it. Travelling alone presented its own set of challenges and I think I set myself even more by doing so while visually impaired – sometimes in my quest to prove I’m just as capable of being independent, I deliberately put myself into situations that I don’t need to for the sake of proving a point. I think Barcelona in particular was a difficult choice because, while not openly hostile, I didn’t feel that I was particularly welcome by the people I encountered despite speaking Spanish. This made things harder, but may have been a combination of my own stress creating more tense situations. Either way, it was a very productive trip and certainly I’ve made a whirlwind of memories that I’ll never forget.
Have you been to Barcelona or somewhere else in Spain? Or travelled alone? I’d love to swap some stories in the comments below.
