Chapter 1: Not Quite Barcelona Yet

I didn't even make it to Barcelona on the first try. Somehow, that turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened.

The flight that didn't take off

My journey to Barcelona was supposed to start on Tuesday evening, September 1st. I made it to the airport a little later than planned and managed to check in pretty much at the last possible moment. I got on the plane, sat down, and thought that was it. Barcelona, here I come.

Well, not quite now.

After sitting there for a while, we got an announcement that the plane’s cargo door wouldn’t close properly. Which, to be fair, sounds like a pretty good reason not to take off.
So we all had to get off again and wait.

While standing around outside, I met Mateo and Dani. Mateo was rolling a cigarette, I looked over at him, and somehow that was enough for him to invite me over. We started talking and waited together until the final announcement came:


The flight was cancelled.
There is at least one slightly ridiculous upside to all of this. I will probably get around €400 in compensation for the cancelled flight.

If that actually happens, the cargo door might basically pay for my Spanish course in Barcelona.

Not exactly how I planned to finance it, but I'll take it.

I called Giulia and asked if she still had the key to our neighbour's apartment. Luckily she did, so I offered Mateo and Dani a place to sleep.


That turned out to be the best decision of the evening. Some of the other passengers apparently had to wait until three or four in the morning before they finally got into their hotels. We went home instead, talked for a bit, and actually got some sleep.
The replacement flight was scheduled for eleven the next morning. I made Mateo and Dani some coffee, we headed back to the airport together and tried the whole thing again.

This time, the plane actually left.

And somehow, because my first flight had been cancelled, I arrived in a completely new city already knowing two people.

Actually arriving

I also met someone on the flight to Barcelona. We talked for a while, exchanged numbers and she really loved my Barcelona Bingo idea.

I have this habit of giving people my number instead of asking for theirs. I don't want anyone to feel like they have to stay in contact with me if they don't want to. The downside is that sometimes people simply never message.

She never did.

Mateo, on the other hand, did message me.

We met again that same evening and went to the Piscina Municipal de Montjuïc. We got there around sunset, with Barcelona slowly starting to light up below us.

We had some wine by the pool, talked about basically everything, and stayed there for a while just enjoying the view.

Afterwards, we walked through the city for a bit, and I also met one of his friends that night.

It was one of those completely unplanned evenings that somehow end up meaning much more than expected.

Since then, Mateo has been messaging me almost every day, and we talk a lot. I'm genuinely grateful I met him.

All because a door on an airplane refused to close.

Piscina Municipal de Montjuïc · absolutely worth it