My Trip to Barcelona, or How I Sprained My Ankle

 Las Ramblas promenade in Barcelona, Spain.

After Bored@Work shared a slightly embarrassing yet funny fun-loving story about her cousin's drunken wedding adventure, I immediately thought of this story and thought I'd share it. Feel free to carry on and share your own clumsy drinking story.

My first night on a weekend away in Barcelona, Spain (also my first night ever in Europe, besides England), my friend Sarah and I went on a bar crawl organized by our hostel. After the second bar third bar, including the liter of Heineken I had at the hostel bar before we left, there was a bit of a problem. While walking and talking to some of my fellow bar crawlers (two things my dad has always said I can’t do at the same time, and rightly), I failed to watch where I was going and fell into a hole. Yes, I fell into a hole. In the middle of the sidewalk. You see, at this point of the promenade in Barcelona, there are trees planted in cavities in the sidewalk. But these are not your ordinary, everyday, dirt-filled holes. They’re deep. Like at least a foot deep. Well, to move this story along, I stepped onto the edge of said hole and sprained my ankle. I know it was sprained because a doctor happened to be walking by and stopped to check out the consequences of my fall. And she confirmed that it was in fact sprained and told me to ice it and take ibuprofen. I was convinced that I could keep going, but the group insisted that I return to the hostel, with the help of a very nice boy (thanks Scott). Anyway, that was the end of the bar crawl, but the beginning of my trip. Lovely. Basically, I just ignored the suggestion to keep off of it and let it heal, because – hey, I was in Spain! It hurt, but I sucked it up. It took a few weeks (longer than it should have) to heal, but it definitely made my trip memorable.

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