Nos chers contrôleurs aériens

Hi!

This past weekend I was in Barcelona, Spain, adventuring around this amazing city with my travel bud, Caroline! Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect from this city; of my best friends here in Dijon is from Barcelona and I was excited to see what she was always raving about, but I had no image in my mind of what it would be like. I can honestly say that Barcelona surpassed any descriptions that I had received. The city seems to be a collection of contrasts. Tree lined boulevards parade next to tangled alleyways; beautiful beaches filled with surfers are backed by gleaming skyscrapers; la boqueria market next to a Starbucks…

One of the reasons I was so excited for this trip is that I finally had a way to prove that I haven’t lost all the Spanish I could speak in high school. Sadly, from the first rapid-fire question in Spanish I knew I was doomed. Sorry Señora Barrett, but it seems like I’ve blocked 8 years of Spanish almost completely from my mind. Everything in Barcelona is actually in Catalan and Spanish and I wish I had tried harder to memorize some of the Catalan phrases my friend taught me! At least I know how to say paella and tapas…

Caroline and I also spent Saturday traveling to Montserrat, the famous mountain where St. Ignatius laid down his sword and adopted a life at the service of others. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate and the rugged mountain views were completely shrouded in fog and rain. After a couple of soaked and frigid hours, Caroline and I decided to head back (we had also dressed in work-out clothes, as if we were scaling the face of the mountain…the athletic look in a cable car looked even more ridiculous). That being said, I still enjoyed our time there to contemplate how much my time at Holy Cross has influenced me and how I would never be in Spain, France or anywhere else in Europe if I didn’t take advantage of this incredible opportunity provided by HC.

It’s important to realize that, as the year draws to a close, it seems almost like a responsibility to share how many amazing things happen on Mount Saint James. Having spent a year in at the University of Burgundy,where a degree is sought only for a job, I have come to appreciate so much more what it means to be educated at Holy Cross.

Can you tell I miss it?

À la prochaine,

Thomas

P.S. My experience getting home had an unexpected French twist, seeing as all of the air-traffic controllers in the smaller French airports (like Lyon, where I was flying into) had gone on strike. 8 hours later in the hottest airport terminal ever and surrounded by disgruntled French people, we finally took off and I somehow made it back to Dijon before midnight. It could have been much worse and I’m thankful that I was at least able to get on a flight; gotta love those grèves françaises.

Park Güell!

Barcelona Beaches

La Boqueria, aka the most fruit you’ve ever seen

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