Does luck happen by chance or does it happen through asking enough questions?

So I arrived safely, after a four hour delay, got through customs swiftly and then waiting watching, with everyone else, an empty motionless carousel as we waited in baggage claim.... for thirty minutes!!

As I'm obviously on a budget (buzz word of the day) I decided that I was going to get to Barcelona city centre for as cheap as possible, which meant railway and then changing onto the metro.  The railway station for Barcelona airport is in terminal two, I was in terminal one *sigh*.  By this time it's getting on for 11pm, 10pm UK time and I'd been up for 17 hours. I had some stuff to sort back home before my departure so was up earl you.  Fine don't worry, onwards and upwards, life is journey.

Bought my ticket for one journey, eventually, into Barcelona knowing I would need another for the metro.  Got on the train and was on my way.  I changed at the first station that I could see had a metro, Bellvitga, as I thought it would be pretty simple.  A ten minute walk between the two stations though so  Google maps came in handy, I don't get charged extra for using my phone in Spain as I'm on Three.  I was on 4% battery though.

The station I thought I was looking for to get off was Arc de Triofm, don't start, I was in the correct European city, look it up if you don't believe me but then I looked on my iPad and the station was actually Glóries.

I got off the metro at 12:12 Barcelona time, 23:12 UK time, exactly 12 hours to the minute when I left Gravesend on the train and I was finished with transport networks, I would be doing the rest on foot.

I walked around for a bit but my iPad, also on Three, was not picking up the network.  I had google maps on so I could work out where I was but it wasn't showing me anywhere that I wanted.  No hostel and no street name.

I asked in a few hotels, got sent down one street, and then down another.

It turns out I had slightly misjudged where exactly it was.  The metro station I needed was the Arc de Triomf, I should have guessed, the hostel was called aRC hOUSE, the reversal on the capital letters is deliberate.

I walked back to Glóries metro station to find it all locked up.  Walking at 1am local time wasn't all bad.  Okay so I had all of my shit, a 15KG rucksack plus my hand luggage, it took about twenty minutes to walk to the area.  I spent another ten minutes looking for the exact location but when I found it I was cursing under my breath, pissed off, tired and alone.

It was like someone up there, I'm definitely not religious, threw me a life line when they could see if had enough of pacing the streets of Barcelona in the wee small hours.

I walked into the hostel and despite carrying all that weight I felt like I had some of it lifted off my shoulders.

The journey wasn't quite over yet.  I walked up the stairs to two locked doors.  There was also a wall of that thick rich crystallised glass, I could see someone through it but wasn't up for a row with someone convincing them that I had a room.

There was a message on the door saying to people that for out of hours check-ins please call.... but of course my phone had died.

Check-in closed at 10pm, at that time I was waiting in baggage claim waiting for my bag.  Cheers Vueling Airlines, a Spanish low budget airline company.  You feel like it was a long time ago reading that on my blog, think how I felt at that time.

Back in the street, about thirty feet from where the hostel entrance was I remember seeing a cafe just closing up, I made my way there, charged my phone, got a drink and had a bit of a refresh. 

Once he was done I had to go, but where too?  Worst case scenario I would stay on the floor.  Just as I got to the top of the stairs the door opened, there comes that "end of my tether life line again".

I chatted with the girl that opened it, she'd arrived late too.  They'd sent her a code to a box on the wall with a key in it that opened the door.  Thankfully she remembered that code and what do you know there was a key, number 10,  in there for me.

I thanked her and made my way.  I found the spare bed without waking anyone else up, in the bunk above a girl was watching something on her iPad.  We quietly introduced ourselves and she confirmed the bed was mine.

I dumped my stuff but weirdly wasn't quite ready for bed, I was relieved.  I made my way to the kitchen where there were two guys and two girls.  One of the guys and one of the girls were chatting cooking spaghetti while the other guy and girl were sat chatting.  

When their meal was ready I made my way to bed.

This was my first couple of hours in Barcelona.  I'd portly planned the journey from the airport to the hostel but twice when I needed a helping hand from the universe I felt like I'd got it. See below for my opinion on this.

Have I poorly planned this I thought to myself this morning.  Will I return to Britain in a month with my tail between my legs having failed to crack Barcelona?

Once up and wide awake I had a shower and a shave.  Half way through shaving my electric razor broke.  I now had a half shaven face and a broken razor.  I think it might be water damage.

I got dressed and made myself look as presentable as I could with a face half full of hair and made enquires at the desk about somewhere I could buy a razor.  He directed me to the supermarket and off I went.  I saw plenty of the ordinary manual razors but I've always had a bit of a problem with those.  I lack confidence so never tried one.  After trying to see if they sold electric razors and finding out that they didn't I went all out and bought a manual one instead.  I got the shaving foam and went back to the hostel.

I've never done this before so I was completely out of my comfort zone.  I'm not sure what it is but I think I just don't trust it.  You've got a blade next to your neck for crying out loud.  I've always felt a lot more confident doing it with an electric razor, there's a sentence I never thought I'd hear…..

I've done it now though, not perfect, I cut myself a few times but I look okay, I missed a few bits but I'll have another go tomorrow.

I'm more upbeat now than I was four hours ago.  I'm sat in an Irish bar having a couple of pints of beer watching the Ashes.  We also watched the final of the Australian Rugby League Super Bowl Cup Final Champions Cup Extravaganza thing.  Some Old team beat New South Wales by 52-6, I think.  Some fans of the winning team were sat in the bar, loudly, watching the game.

It's just off La Rambla.  I came here because I know it's touristy.  I think I can do something in that field.

If you've been to La Rambla and if you've been to Barcelona then you've been to La Rambla then you'll know that it's a normal street, pavements at the side, the road in the but in the middle of that  is one long pavement, quite wide and this is Barcelona’s Covent Garden, it is where the street performers go but the trouble with this is there's no shops.  They're at the pavements to the side.

I went into one straight away.  A tourist shop selling all the usual tat. Postcards are what I'm looking at and who supplies them.  If I can get some pictures, send them on then perhaps they'll hire me as a photographer?  This is the kind of thing I'm aiming for but if I also see a sign in the window that says cleaner required I'm there.

I tried a few shops and as I made my way up La Rambla I saw a guy handing out leaflets.  At first I wasn't interested, I told him no, I then changed my mind and said go on then.  I took one and walked off.

The leaflets were advertising an Irish pub just around the corner.  I went back to him and asked him where exactly it was.  He gave me directions and I made my way. I'm there now, writing this on my phone.

I have the email so I can send them my CV.  

The point is I said no and then said yes, a lifeline perhaps.  I'm not resting on lifelines. When I woke up this morning I was ready to come home thinking it wasn't going to work, it may still not but I'm very up and down.  As long as I continue to plough on.  Whenever my head drops I will do something constructive to make it work.  Every time I ask "have you got any work" I have 50/50 chance of making it work and getting a yes.

Once I get that yes I'm away.

This is my opinion on whether I got a helping hand from the universe.  I didn't, I made it happen. The only thing that was really lucky was that the girl was coming out of the hostel just as I was coming in. I made the rest came off because of my perseverance.  I found the hostel because I didn't give up looking, I got the lead about the job in the bar because I made it happen.  If Barcelona works or not it will be down to me, I can do it but I'm the one that needs to make it happen.