damien, the angel
Found a place to rent for the week, a lovely Irish gentlemen named Auob has agreed to let me stay for a week.
I meet Auob, pronounced ‘A’, at a place called the taverna de placa de musica.
OK, I am so feeling like Carrie Bradshaw right now…funny.
Auob and I chat over a café and head off to the flat.
It’s located on a typical narrow alley in the area called Borne.
He warns of the stairs in our phone conversation. 4th floor-again in Barca that means 8th floor…
The stairs are narrow like the street, unstable, made of concrete, and various other materials.
Not wanting to show my lack of athleticism, I am barely breathing. In fact, I think I held my breath the whole trek. I am exhausted just carrying my purse-and I think Auob is too. 'How the f**k am I going to get my Oprah(s) up the stairs?', I think to myself.
Auob opens the door to a beautifully renovated flat…totally modern, equipt with stainless steel appliances, new hardwood floors, and an amazing bathroom.
I’m in love.
After receiving the full tour with instruction, Auob and I go our separate ways. Now, I head back to the Hotel Via Augusta, where the kind concierge’s have agreed to hold my bags.
They order a taxi ‘muy grande’ per my request. The taxi arrives and we all struggle to load my bags…what a sight!
Calle Sant Pere where I will be staying is, must I say it again, a tiny alley. Mr. Taxi #530 tries, but cannot fit his car down. So, we stop at the cross, unload, and drag my bags together-one by one-down. Once the final bags are layed at the door, Mr. Taxi is ready to bolt. He has done enough so far and there is no way I would even think about asking him to help me up the stairs.
Now what, now what, now what….
My survival instincts check in full gear as I hear an Irish accent nearby. Looking up I see a straggily, young hipster boy. Remember Shaggy from Scooby Doo?
I meet Auob, pronounced ‘A’, at a place called the taverna de placa de musica.
OK, I am so feeling like Carrie Bradshaw right now…funny.
Auob and I chat over a café and head off to the flat.
It’s located on a typical narrow alley in the area called Borne.
He warns of the stairs in our phone conversation. 4th floor-again in Barca that means 8th floor…
The stairs are narrow like the street, unstable, made of concrete, and various other materials.
Not wanting to show my lack of athleticism, I am barely breathing. In fact, I think I held my breath the whole trek. I am exhausted just carrying my purse-and I think Auob is too. 'How the f**k am I going to get my Oprah(s) up the stairs?', I think to myself.
Auob opens the door to a beautifully renovated flat…totally modern, equipt with stainless steel appliances, new hardwood floors, and an amazing bathroom.
I’m in love.
After receiving the full tour with instruction, Auob and I go our separate ways. Now, I head back to the Hotel Via Augusta, where the kind concierge’s have agreed to hold my bags.
They order a taxi ‘muy grande’ per my request. The taxi arrives and we all struggle to load my bags…what a sight!
Calle Sant Pere where I will be staying is, must I say it again, a tiny alley. Mr. Taxi #530 tries, but cannot fit his car down. So, we stop at the cross, unload, and drag my bags together-one by one-down. Once the final bags are layed at the door, Mr. Taxi is ready to bolt. He has done enough so far and there is no way I would even think about asking him to help me up the stairs.
Now what, now what, now what….
My survival instincts check in full gear as I hear an Irish accent nearby. Looking up I see a straggily, young hipster boy. Remember Shaggy from Scooby Doo?
Yeah, that’s Damien-my darling oxymoron-named neighbor.
Damien provides a big warm smile and agrees to help me. I tell him ‘you have no idea what you are getting yourself into’…yeah, yeah, he nods. Well, needless to say we both almost went into cardiac arrest after the fear factor challenge I initiated. There is 4 Estrella beers in the fridge. Damien and I each crack one open and suck it down like we were beer-bonging. I pull out 20 euro and hand it to Damien-he does not want to accept it-‘are you f**king kidding…my bags would have been stolen or laid up on the street if it weren’t for you-I love you!!’
He laughs and humbly accepts the money, I take his phone number, and tell him he is my neighbor handyguy-like on One Day at a Time, what was his name?
Damien provides a big warm smile and agrees to help me. I tell him ‘you have no idea what you are getting yourself into’…yeah, yeah, he nods. Well, needless to say we both almost went into cardiac arrest after the fear factor challenge I initiated. There is 4 Estrella beers in the fridge. Damien and I each crack one open and suck it down like we were beer-bonging. I pull out 20 euro and hand it to Damien-he does not want to accept it-‘are you f**king kidding…my bags would have been stolen or laid up on the street if it weren’t for you-I love you!!’
He laughs and humbly accepts the money, I take his phone number, and tell him he is my neighbor handyguy-like on One Day at a Time, what was his name?
Schneider!!!!
Anywho, Damien leaves probably thinking what the hell did I get myself into? Haven’t seen Damien since, but do in the middle of the night hear other young hipsters calling his name from the street.
Damien-I adore you and thank you endlessly for your help!
Anywho, Damien leaves probably thinking what the hell did I get myself into? Haven’t seen Damien since, but do in the middle of the night hear other young hipsters calling his name from the street.
Damien-I adore you and thank you endlessly for your help!
posted by Nicole at 10/19/2005
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