The Backpacker's Travel Series: I Found Peace in Barcelona (Full Story)

in #travel6 years ago

My name is Shaun and I have anxiety.

My mind always spun. I was in a state of haziness and negative thoughts ruminated. I essentially lived a life of fear. My anxiety was to a point where any caffeine would put me into a near panic, my palms would always sweat, and it was as if I could no longer breath. Any positive thought was countered by irrational fears. Life was relatively difficult. I was fighting an invisible fight.

I took the flight from Los Angeles International Airport to a connecting flight to London’s Heathrow Airport and arrived in Barcelona near midnight. This was my first journey alone. I no longer had the comfort of going home to ease myself. It was just me, my backpack, and my camera. It might sound unconventional, but this is what gave me my sanity back.

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(A photograph of me in Park Guell, overlooking Barcelona. This photo was taken by my new friend, Ana.)

Barcelona is truly a beautiful city filled with welcoming people. I was met with smiles and friendliness from the locals – whether it was at the laundromat or the servers at the tapas bar. I love every moment of it. The city was antiquity infused with modern the day. Gaudi’s work was all over the city, which gave it a mesmerizing allure. Every time I put my eye in the view finder on my DSLR, I smiled. Everything was picture perfect. The blue skies contrasted with the yellow stones used in most of the buildings. I fell in love with the beauty of the Catalan language. The culture is far from what I am used to. Catalonians were very relaxed and lived life on their own terms. Whether it be the laughter outside the tapas bar, the late night coffee drinkers, or the Catalans enjoying their nighttime stroll, the city was vibrant. It was full of life, but most importantly, love. I can't thank the Barcelonés enough for inspiring me to be just like them.

After two days in Barcelona, I had my first cup of coffee. It was a Starbucks a few meters near La Pedrera. As I sat for a few minutes admiring the Gaudi’s work, I knew that I was in the right direction. That cup was a milestone in terms of progress. The fear of panic was consuming me and by having that cup, I faced it head-on. With a huge smile on my face, I won that invisible fight with the help of coffee, Gaudi, and my camera. The same day, I ended up getting lost in the city. I was no longer scared of the thought of getting lost. I was now a wanderer looking for an adventure. A couple of kilometers later, I was in the cool Gothic Quarter. I was in awe. It was a medieval city within modernity. I ran my fingers through the ancient walls with the thought that someone probably did the same hundreds of years ago. As I stood in the quarter, I realized that I was no longer living a life of fear. It was as if my brain was rewired. I now enjoyed the feeling of being lost. I no longer feared fear itself. The thought of anxiety no longer gave me anxiety. I was me again.

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(La Sagrada Familia)

I continued to explore the vibrant city of Barcelona. I was no longer alone. I met Ana, a traveler from Brazil, while I was out on lunch next to my hostel. I decided to ask the lone traveler who so happens to also be my roommate if she wanted to explore the city with me. We both decided to walk to the Park Guell to see the city from above. She posed for some photos and I did too. A man approached me asking if I could take a photo of him. His name was Mauricio, a Colombian who happens to live in Brazil. The three of us ended up walking throughout the city – from lunch in Las Ramblas to laying on the beach in playa de la Barcelonetta. As the sun started to set, we all had to say our goodbyes. We had only been together for a day, but our friendship felt as if it were a lifetime.

It was serendipity that Ana and I had met. While on the bus headed to our hostel, I told her that this was my last day in Barcelona and I had a catch a flight early in the morning to Florence. It turns out that so did she, except hers, was going to Rome. She tapped my bunk bed the next morning and reminded me of our flight. We grabbed our backpacks and waited for the bus to the airport. We unknowingly had similar departure times and our gates were close to each other. I sat with my new friend until both our gates called for boarding. We said our goodbyes, but this wouldn’t be the last time we would meet.

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(A busy interection in Barcelona. I can't recall how I ended up there.)

I left Barcelona with my sanity, new friends, and new memories. I had won the invisible fight – the mental struggle. I found that being alone in a place where you don’t know anyone, or the language forced me to adapt. It taught me to be more self-reliant. I understood myself more and my fears. Photography also helped me slow my pace and thinking. I learned to manage my anxiety, but most importantly, I learned to love myself despite my struggles.

Barcelona will always be my special place. I can't wait to say hello to you again.

Would you like to hear about my trip to Florence and how I ended up meeting up with Ana again? Comment below!

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