Somewhere In Spain

| May 1, 2017 | 0 Comments

Date: Vacation Day 2
Time: The Crack of Dawn
Location: Somewhere in Spain
Associate: Typical American Tourist (My Father)
Perspective: Film Major

We rise with the sun and review the packed list of things that are essential to see when in Barcelona. There are museums, cathedrals, zoos, and monuments to be seen.

We begin our journey down the streets of Spain, my trusted Canon 7D at the ready.

My father takes out his iPhone and points at a fancy building of sorts.

I look at the building with my eyes and then scan the crowd through my viewfinder.

A single man walks down the street of a quaint alleyway. It is not particularly noticeable, yet something about it strikes me as beautiful.

I’ve never seen a beautiful alleyway in America.


First stop, Park de la Ciutadella (or something like that).

An expansive field of green; the necessary destinations are a series of monuments, archways, and statues.

We walk through archway #1 after my associate stops to document it on the aforementioned iPhone.

My eyes flicker to some locals on a walk.

They walk through the archway too, but they don’t stop for photos.


There is some sort of landmark where non-Spanish speakers gather with their cameras. I can’t quite recall what it was.

Not too far from the landmark is a bench.

Two young girls sit on said bench, taking a break from their rollerskating. I speculate that they are sisters.


There is an expansive plaza with a statue in the center, but surrounding it is smooth, roomy pavement, effectively made for pedestrians, bikers, and other human-powered vehicles.

I like this girl’s backpack.


My dad is a little tired, and so he stops to sit for a while. I wander through the park by myself.

I find some interesting people.

A rainbow seems to have found these people too.


I wondered how often this woman comes here to sit, and if she used to have someone to sit with.


Groups of youthful, energized people sit on the grass with all sorts of substances and play guitar.

This man indulges by himself.


I return to my now rested father, and we head to the zoo.

It’s a small zoo and the animals seem just as bored as the people. I don’t remember what animals we saw besides some monkeys. My Dad’s iPhone has a better memory of the specifics than I do.

It’s interesting how creatures look at other creatures.


I stop for a drink by some sort of animal with wings.

She was thirsty too.


We glance on a few more animals towards the exit and journey on.

He asked his dad to go home too.


When we got back on the streets, we saw two girls waiting for the bus.

They were edgy and mysterious.

In a way, I envied them. They looked like they had a lot of fun.


We saw a few more places and things, none of which I remember as clearly as the man in the park that spoke Spanish but loved the Yankees, or the couple that was having an intimate picnic under a peaceful tree, or the boy with a charming accent who was simply enjoying life.

I find it funny that when people travel, they like to take pictures of things. And well known things at that. The types of famous structures that you can find millions of pictures of with a simple Google search, like the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of David.

Instead of looking at the Eiffel Tower and taking it in with our eyes, we seem to have an obsession with viewing it through a lens or a screen. But if we look at the world that way, are we ever really seeing anything at all?

I had a brilliant mentor last semester that drilled into my head the true purpose of a camera: To tell stories and capture human behavior. So when I had the chance to travel, I challenged myself to use it as such. I refrained from taking pictures of the Statue of David, or the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or any of those big, famous castles – unless I saw a story in the image.

When I looked at my “favorite vacation photos”, what I found was this:
The ones that gave me something to remember about the place I had visited, were the ones that captured people or small, specific things that often go unnoticed but tell such a personal story.

I’m no photographer. I just think that some of the best stories are those that aren’t often told.

Somewhere Not In Spain:

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Category: Art and Literature, featured, Food and Travel

Danielle Diamond

About the Author ()

Maker of films, writer of stories, lover of music.

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