Tahoe

From friends

(standing next to the vast open-ness of nothing, bring a humility that does not need comforting. it reminds me that i am so small and insignificant).

A weekend with girlfriends can do much for your soul. A weekend with nature can essentially do the equivalent. Watching movies. Sharing stories. Discovering habits. Seeing raindrops and teardrops and bear paw prints. Our lives are gentle and temporary. Our lives generate the love we need for each other and ourselves. Dreams. Breezes. Rainstorms. Blue lakes. Clouds. Fresh mountain air. Friends. All are so necessary for our love of life.

From friends

From friends

Why do we take for granted the beauty in our own backyard? (I don't mean this literally...for my backyard is far from beautiful these days. Not because it doesn't have potential (it does) but because i have neglected it, just as I have neglected so much in my life). But, I mean, the beauty of our Tahoe's, our Napa's, our Bodega's, our Tomales'. Driving home from Tahoe I was awe struck by the beauty of the rolling hills, decorated so beautifully with vineyards and wildflowers. Picture perfect. God's gift. Our oversight. As I look out my bedroom window I see the meticulous leaves on the growing redwood trees and I remember how blessed I am and I thank the leaves and bark and the redwood and the cloudy blue sky background and I am humbled that I don't have to travel across the globe to appreciate such magnificence. for it is right here. right in front of my eyes as I lay recovering from a broken heart and a broken head. today is beautiful. today is new. today is sips of coffee and tree leaves and cloudy blue backdrops. And, the remembrance of the beautiful friends I have in my wonderful, magnificent life.

From friends

A parteh? for me?

From barcelona

So, I had vowed this morning not to take any more pictures as i was sure my camera had quite enough of my constant zooming and focusing and snap-shoting. but, when I arrived here tonight, back in Barcelona, i soon realized that there was a celebration going on. at first, at the train station, when i told the taxi driver where to take me, he was crotchity(sp?) and rude but he put my backpack in the trunk and told me to get in. he was "ay yaye yaye" the entire drive. i just rolled my eyes and tried my best to make small talk. Oy vey. so as we neared my stop, he announced something in spanish that I took to mean "this is as far as I take you, now pay and get out". the streets were blocked off. the crowds were huge and i was uncertain what was happening. I knew it had something to do with the FC Barcelona futbol because everyone was dressed in the teams colors and flags were flying from every terrace. luckily, i was close to where my hotel was and i asked a japanese woman if she spoke english (i have found that if you look like a foreigner you likely speak english). she explained that a parade was about to start. i wandered down the street to my hotel, dropped off my backpack (which have i told you weighs 33 lbs?)(well, before gifts for nick) and went back out to the streets to watch the celebration. It was amazing. They chanted, they cheered, they laughed and celebrated and that was all before the team was driven through the area.

Check out this video. I was getting trampled toward the end, but i maintained my stance to bring this special event to you, my fans.





Here are some pictures of this most audacious event.

From barcelona

From barcelona

From barcelona

From barcelona

Back to Madrid with a dash of El Escorial

Today, the plan was to give Madrid another chance because I had been so down on it the other day. I rode the train from Toledo to Madrid and as soon as I stepped off the train, the feeling of being in the wrong place again hit me. I didn’t even make it out of the train station and I looked for the local train that would run to a place called El Escorial. In my tour book, it was supposed to be a wonderful little day trip from Madrid. I bought myself a ticket (by train) to this little place for a whopping 3.05 euros. I sat next to a couple of retired school teachers from Britten and had a fairly intellectual conversations ranging from the economy to the thoughts behind a graffiti artist. What was very interesting, and perhaps not the least bit of news to you, is that all of the world looks to the United States as to what they will evolve in their own nations, be it where to place a fast food chain to the graffiti that is showing up in other parts of the world (including, as I mentioned, on the bricks of 500 year old buildings). It was these brit‘s opinion that when the United States sneezed, the rest of the world caught a cold. My new friendly chaps felt that once USA recovers economically, they will follow. These beliefs could very well be true to the majority. Maybe I live a very sheltered existence, but I often think that the other countries are who we should be modeling our lives around. Their family values and commitment to peaceful living seems much more suited for what we should be striving for. I feel (and I make this my own opinion) that we are a lazy, selfish country and we don’t know the definition of hard work or sacrifice. We spend our days off vegging out in front of a TV or doing things that serve our own good. We fail to live our lives in service for others. I too fall into this category nor am I immune from how I view us as a whole. Nonetheless, I was very interested in the discussion we had on the train.

(I don’t mean to turn this into a political blog, I just have these festering opinions lately. Probably because I don’t have anyone to tame my wild ideations or someone to put some duct tape over my mouth.)

From Toledo

From Toledo

El Escorial is about 30 miles northwest of Madrid. The Monasterio de San Lorenzo de El Escorial was built in the mid-1500’s. It wasn’t a real pretty building and it looked more like a prison than anything else. But it was HUGE! I took the self guided tour because they weren’t offering any English speaking tours today. I wandered through the stark stone walled hallways and read the little description on the wall near the artifact. I must admit, I was bored out of my mind at first. There were shovels and pots and pans and other stuff that really didn’t interest me in the least. At one point, when I was looking at a painting of a woman breast feeding her child, my only thought was “that is a good size”. Then I wandered around and looked in rooms, having these odd thoughts: “That room is spacious.” “ohh, there is a lot of storage space in those built in cabinets.” “I wonder how much these dishes would sell for on eBay.” “If I had to clean this place, I would kill myself.” “I wonder how many warehouses of Ikea merchandise you would need to furnish this place.”

From Toledo

About this time I realize that I am not really a history buff. I mean it’s interesting, but really? Not for me. But then I start getting interested. Because in one room they have these paintings and the description states they are “unattractive people” because of the inbreeding that went on amongst their families. I am looking at them and realize they are down right F-UGLY. Then I wander into a room where the monks supposedly would meet for important discussions and I am trying to imagine what their conversation would be like. Would they be “let’s meet up at half past noon to discuss the rather pressing issues laying before us.” Or would it be more like “ya, see you up there in about ten minutes.” I don’t know when we became less formal, but it’s hard to imagine a time when all the pomp and circumstance was proper.

From Toledo

From Toledo

Anyway, I got in a giddy mood after that exploration and there is NOTHING worse than being in a giddy mood (especially MY giddy mood) when there is no one around to bounce off of. I find this park (gorgeous park) and start taking goofy pictures of myself. I want to joke and kid and be obnoxious, but I can’t. It’s so hard. If I were to do that, people would assume I escaped from the funny farm. Or…Maybe, they would decide to act that way too, since I am an American and as an American, I influence the behaviors of the rest of the world? Well, we shall see if my crazy behavior will catch on.

From Toledo

After this I returned to Madrid as I felt I needed too. I ventured out of the train station and went to the Prado. It would be free to enter at 6 pm…and still having the last name of Starkey, I got that cheapness still in me. So, I wait and enter with the rest of the free-loaders at 6pm. Again, I wish I were into art like I wish I were into history, I am not. However, this place was amazing. It was filled with paintings from all famous painters of the 16th, 17th and 18th century. Most of the paintings were of Jesus’ crucifixion and the last supper. Some were of King Charles and his family. Some depicted the dresses and the parties of those times. There were lots of nudie pictures. I especially liked the paintings by this guy named Ruben. That guy liked the large ladies and he painted them like women look and he didn’t hold back on the cellulite or the rolls. But, all kidding aside, they were beautiful women and they seemed much more realistic to the times.

From Toledo

From Toledo

My day is ending as yours is mid-way through. Tomorrow I go back to Barcelona for the night and then I fly home on Friday, where I will be greeted by my dear friend(s). And, I understand Saturday night I am hosting an end of school sleep over with four 13-year-old boys. Wait until you read the blog on that one!

From Toledo

My favorite picture of the day:

From Toledo

Toledo Day Two!

From Toledo

From Toledo

Toledo has captured my heart. It is a town rich in history and full of Spanish pride that is apparent on the faces of the locals who gladly serve you café, cream puffs (my constant quest to find the best continues), or drive your bus to the station. The people are genuine and simple and happy. Tourists flock Toledo by day, but once they depart, you have the town essentially to yourself. Music vibrates through the restaurants and laughter fills the empty spaces of silence. People are alive here. They take time to wander and smile and hold a hand and give a hug. They are not shy people in the least. They wear their emotions on their beautifully ironed button up shirt sleeves, with their lovely wife on the arm of the other sleeve beaming up proudly as they walk.

From Toledo

From Toledo

I went to see the Cathedral (spelled Catedral) today. I can not recall a moment in my life when I actually lost my breathe from the sight of such magnificence. (Luckily none of my ex boyfriends are likely reading this and won’t be insulted by this discovery). But the word magnificence can not even come close to describing the interior of the Catedral. My stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had been released, but an overwhelming sense of peace was felt simultaneously. Peace and the most intense excitement I have experienced.

I have to break to tell you what I find to be a funny story. Last night I saw them and then again today and I am compelled to share. There is this 40ish year old woman, who I am assuming is the grand daughter of the lady she pushes around in a wheelchair. Last night when I saw them, the grandma looked dead (seriously dead) as she was pushed down a cobblestone road, her head bobbing up and down and every which way. I almost said to the “pusher” you realize she is dead, right. But I refrained as I am learning to silence the inside voice. I am now writing this on the plaza and again I see the grandma, again being pushed around in her wheelchair and again looking gravely dead. I don’t have the heart to advise this “pusher” as she may be so upset.

Anyway, back to the Catedral. The ambiance inside the Catedral was somber (in the happiest of ways). There were groups of well-mannered school children with bulging brown eyes, sacred smiles and carefree hearts. Tour groups gathered together and whispered their “ohhhs and ahhhs”. At one point I felt frozen when I sat in front of the High Alter. I kept thinking about the people who put their lives into building this intricate and delicate structure of marble and stone. Oddly to some perhaps, I found myself caressing the rounded corners of the pillars and running my fingers on the faces of the carved angels. It was surreal. Unfortunately, they do not allow photography inside the church. I tried to snap a few outlawed shots, but they didn't turn out. If I go again, I will be sure to wear my nose-cam or bra-cam so I can get some pic's to share. For now, if you are interested, just google Toledo Catedral and click images. You are sure to find some successful illegal pictures.

Here is my meal of the day:

From Toledo

When I left there, I wandered. I neglected (on purpose) to take out my map and I just strolled around. I ended up by the river (exactly where I wanted to be) and I sat and read my book for a while. The Tajo river pretty much surrounds the town of Toledo. From what I understand, the location of Toledo was selected so the river could act as a moot (is that how’s it’s spelled?) to protect the town.

From Toledo

I took tons of pictures today of everything from what I ate (a charming little restaurant near the river) to a young girl screaming for her “ma ma” from her window. She was too cute. Once she saw I was snapping her picture she became goofy and was being quite the poser. I wandered into open doors and looked around, I skipped by the river and I ate like a queen for 11 euros. Today was a magnificent day (largely because of the Catedral but also because I got my Nick-fix).

From Toledo

The police here make quite a presence. I have to admit, there is graffiti here as well. I would think that if these vandals are caught, there could be a return to the burnings and the squeezing the air out of their bodies, while the public looked on. It is such a tragedy to see graffiti on the 500 year old buildings. However, I did have this thought today (while I do not in any way condone the spray paintings). Perhaps, the graffiti of today is our expression of art as was the carvings and drawings the expression of art during the 16th century. Maybe, just maybe, when Indians left pictorial images chronicling theirs lives on the walls of caves, this was their expression. I can barely fathom the notion that someday, 500 years from now, people will travel to America or Spain or India to view the drawings of these vandals, but who knows. Maybe someone had that same doubt when these churches were erected and filled with cherubs and gold plated gates. Just a thought.

From Toledo

From Toledo

Anyway. GOOD NEWS. Grandma is alive. I just saw her hand move ever so slightly to shoo away a fly. Thank goodness my observations were wrong (again).

From Toledo

Holy Toledo!

From Toledo

When I arrived in Toledo yesterday I knew in an instant that this was the place I was meant to be. The town is what I had envisioned Spain to be. The cab driver dropped me off at the hostel I had booked on line. While they were friendly and kind, they did not offer internet service (well, they did for 5 euros an hour). I was disappointed as I longed to be able to talk to Nick when I needed a Nick-fix. So, I left my bags there and sought out another place. As luck may have it, I found this three star (***) hotel that offered wi-fi and breakfast for only 40 euros a night (the hostel was 36 euros per night), I booked this place in a heartbeat and although I didn’t get my money back at the hostel, I figured it was worth the loss. I love this place and frankly, I love the night time receptionist. Seriously, he is gorgeous. I called last night to ask what time breakfast was and he offered to bring me juice right then and there. I declined of course, but his offer was so kind…and he speaks a little English.

From Toledo

From Toledo

I wandered around a little yesterday afternoon and again last night (after a mid afternoon break for my Nick fix). The town is amazing. Nothing but cobblestone roads and buildings you visualize when you think ancient Spain. None of the shops in the bottom of the buildings or the restaurants or bars are tacky. They all look like they belong. Of course they have tacky trams running through town (which I may ride today to get a birds eye view of the town) and they have tourists type traps scattered about. But overall, it is so lovely that I feel at peace.

From Toledo

From Toledo

I intended this trip to be a journey of many different routes. And, spiritually speaking, Toledo has fulfilled a hole in my heart that I have been seeking for the majority of the last decade. I am not certain that the effects will be long lasting, but it has filled my heart for now and I can only hope for it to sustain when I depart. I have snapped a few photos of the town, which I will share in this blog, but my goal today is to take interesting (at least to me) pictures of the buildings and the people who capture the peace I am writing about. I am leaving now, and I may come back for my afternoon break (nick-fix) and then I will head out once again so that I can soak up every second of the beauty and serenity this town has to offer.

Madrid!

I woke up this morning and caught the AVE train (it’s high speed) to Madrid. The train was so nice and air conditioned. I read and wrote in my journal, having a lovely time. I disembarked the train and again (as is the common theme) got lost. But, instead of waiting until I was thoroughly exhausted, I hailed a cab and she took me to my place…or as close as she could get. This “hotel” is worse than last nights. So much so, that I break into tears when I see the room. Here is the deal…I am afraid to turn out the lights in the event that cockroaches will emerge. Seriously. I have the “fan” on in here and it is shaking so violently that it appears it will fall from the ceiling at any time. O well. Live and learn. I quickly canceled the remaining nights, but for tonight, I am stuck here.

From Madrid

One topic I wrote about in my journal today was how we all possess polarities to some degree. For instance, I can be the most compassionate person a certain times and there are other times I am down right uncaring and rude. (it’s an entire journal entry, I won’t bore you with the details). But the irony in that thought process is Madrid is a polarity in and of itself. On one hand, you have the most amazing structures situated on top of cobblestone roads with a piercing blue sky above. But in those spectacular buildings you have Mcdonalds and KFC or some other second rate store selling sex toys or tacky knick knacks. (FYI: SPOILER ALERT: I am going to get opinionated here). I understand the as a society, whether we are of Spanish or American or Italian decent, we have to appease the masses if we are survive economically. However, I don’t (and likely won’t) ever understand or subscribe to the belief that we have to crap up the historic buildings that people travel from all over the world to see. Spain, for most people, or at least me until I visited, is considered rich for it’s history and culture and it is a travesty to see the buildings converted into fast food joints and tacky gift shops. Also, (and then I will stop my rant) when I walked into the Plaza Mayor (which was gorgeous by the way and I will explain the polarity in just a moment…hang in there) “street performers” lined the outskirts of this incredible monument. And, they were bad street performers. Like one guy was dressed up in a spiderman suit that was likely made for him when he was 12 and he was now well over 12 and in a size 14 times bigger than when it was made. And don’t get me started on the “Winnie the pooh” or all the “disney” characters. Seriously, I thought I was in a Disneyland gone really really bad!
Ok. Now for the Spain you want to hear about. So, I wandered around, following Rick Steve’s guide for a walking tour. Leaving Puerta Sol and winding my way to the Royal Palace. Here is the polarity. I was awestruck on the beauty I experienced in this peaceful and surreal journey, just steps away from the chaos of the above description. First the Plaza Mayor was built in 1619 and it is a complete square, framing in a court yard. The thing I found interesting was in this area, Spanish bullfights, fires, royal pageantry and Inquisitions all occurred. The rich would rent the balconies and the “sinners” who wore billboards with the list of their sins were paraded around the square before being burned or slowly strangled.

From Madrid

I then made my way to the Royal Palace and across from that was a Cathedral of some sort. In the center of the two was a man (a street performer) playing the most soothing violin music, which just encapsulated the ambiance of the two towering structures. I met a young man from Oklahoma and started talking his ear off. He quickly ditched me, damnit. It was like the first real English conversation I have had in days! Note to self: quit being so desperate for conversation.

From Madrid

On a whim, I decided to look into a building I saw people entering and here is where I discovered that this trip has become a soul searching (and perhaps finding) expedition. This building was a Cathedral far more beautiful than I could ever imagine. I have seen these types of structures in movies, but never have I felt so small in the presence of God. And, I honestly felt like God was there. The inhabitants of the church silently allowed everyone around them to have whatever moment they needed to have. I am stuck trying to describe the serenity that was being emitted. My pictures do not capture the beauty, but my memories of that moment will always slow my breath and open my heart.

From Madrid

It's Futbol time!

Futbol Match-FC Barcelona…

Today I took the bus from Tossa de mar back to Barcelona via the Safra bus systems. I am sad to report I have found where the dark and unattractive congregate. The metro. First, let me start by saying that I was first met by an angel. She was blonde and cheery looking and, noticing I was completely lost by the metro system, she pointed me in the right direction and made sure I got to the right place. Where ever that blonde haired blue eyed anger is at this moment I wish her well. Then, I met with the devil. As I was on the metro, a bit disorientated and maybe more trusting having just spent two days in a small little (trustworthy) beach town. But this what would have been revered as a sweet young lady, was this sticky finger little rascal. As the metro became more crowed we were shoved together and not thinking to much of it, I squished myself into a corner…sticky fingers close by. I happened to look down and I saw her hand in my purse. Doing what any mother would do, I slapped her hand and told her to quit touching my stuff. She said “what are you talking about?” and she quickly disembarked the metro, probably looking for a new victim. Ha! I was irritated. The first time of this trip. It actually felt good to be pissed off for a while. Nice emotion when I have had such a variety of the other stuff.

Anyway, after this incident, I found my way to my “hotel”. I say it in quotes because it is located at the end of an alley and the only thing that suggests it is a “hotel” is a small sign. They would be better suited to declare it a hostel….it is in a shady neighborhood but I booked it because it was less than a ½ mile from the Camp Nou Stadium. I am surviving it. Although, I have moved every piece of moveable furniture in front of the door and I checked under the bed, in the closet and in the shower to make sure no one was lurking about. O my probation officer suspicion is rearing its protective head.

I took a quick shower and then headed over to Camp Nou. As I enetered the gate, I was happy I had decided to still come. The celebration was huge. There was bands and smiles and dancing and everyone was layered in Barcelona futbol garb. The crowd was mostly comprised of families with young children. There were so many differences between this sporting event and ones I have attended in San Francisco.
They have very little food options for purchase. They offered hotdogs and sodas. They did not march around with red ropes, cotton candy, popcorn, slurpies, icecream bon bons, peanuts. And, no alcohol. Only non alcoholic beer was offered.
The crowd was very receptive when the other team was introduced. However, when Osacuna’s team member was injured, they hollered out he was a “puta”.

From barcelona

From barcelona

They didn’t have an announcer. They often broke into their own songs and started the cheers themselves. The game itself started out as very boring and I was curious why there was such an interest in soccer (there, I said it). But, when the ref called a bad call (I am guessing) the crowd got so animated that I soon learned what the attraction was. Everyone held something white and shouted in unison something in Spanish or catalan. It was crazy. After the game (which FC Barcelona lost 0-1) they had a special celebration because the team recently won some championship. I would love to say I was interested enough to find out exactly what, but I am not. I went to participate in their culture and I am really glad I was able to experience that. Behind me sat two fathers with their young (2 or 3 yrs) and those boys were so cute. At some point the speakers play “I will survive” (I am telling you their choice in music here is odd) and I am comforted because finally something in English that I understand, and these little boys bust out their moves and I am instantly amused and was able to laugh out loud, something else I have been unable to do for many days.

From barcelona

So, overall, aside from the reprimand I had to give ol’ sticky fingers, my day was very rewarding. Tomorrow I am off to Madrid. I went to a travel agency today in Tossa, trying to determine where to go next and the fella there said that I really should see Madrid I agree. Then I can wipe Spain off my list.

Leaving Tossa de mar-going to FC Barcelona match

Tonight is supposed to be CRAZY. I guess it will be a big celebration as they recently won the league championship. Everyone is a buzz about it. I will post when I can. Hoppin on a bus now to go to Barcelona. I will attempt to figure out the Metro system. Going to Madrid tomorrow morning. I will be sure to post mucho about this historic place. Everyone I talk to say I have to go!

Love to all.

Me.

Tossa de mar-Day two

This town is peaceful. Nothing is hurried. No one is pretentious. The nights are silent with the exception of the crashing waves that can be heard from my hotel window. Time seems to have no meaning except the hours are announced by the church bell. The waves are unexhaustable and perfect. I explored the castle yesterday afternoon, even after negotiating with myself that I would save it for today.

From barcelona

Then, after dinner last night I explored it again and then AGAIN after a walk up the beach. I can’t seem to get enough of the serenity I feel when I am near it. I attempted to take some self portraits, which I will share with those who are questioning if I am truly in Spain or if I decided to be held up in my bedroom for the duration of two weeks.

From barcelona

The structures here are like visions you see on postcards. They have character and charm and they instantly invite you in with their warmth. I can't seem to take enough pictures. As soon I as promise myself ENOUGH, there is another structure far to beautiful to pass up.

From barcelona

Largely a tourist town, the towns people are not necessarily rude, but certainly not embracing as I had hoped for. I have yet to find this on the trip and I wonder if my look of loneliness does not cause them to run the other way. I feel like laughing and that is one emotion so hard to do when you do not have someone else around. In my head I seem to be making continuous lists of the pros and cons of traveling alone. (pro: You get to make all the decisions of where to go, what to eat, when to wake up without interference from someone with much stupider ideas) (con: You only have your voice to hear in the you head and after awhile, I must admit, does get annoying. For those of you who made this discovery years ago, I do apologize).

From barcelona

I decided I do want to go to the futbol match tomorrow and so I booked a hotel for tomorrow, went to the bus station to purchase my ticket to Barcelona and canceled my accommodation here for tomorrow evening. I just felt that when I had purchased the ticket, it was what I was supposed to do and I am attempting to no longer interfere with fate. As controlling as I am, this is much easier said than done. Everyone around here is getting very excited about the match. Banners of all shapes and sizes are making their appearance in windows, across balconies and on cars.

While wandering in and out of shops today I kept hearing songs like “My name is Luka” or “Manic Monday”. I felt like I was stuck in the 90’s and desperately wanted to crawl forward to more modern music, but just as I thought that George Michael came on the radio and could only roll my eyes.

I went on a hike today (note to self: bring hiking boots next trip/adventure). I asked a local to tell me a great place to go and they pointed me in this direction: To the side of the castle (which I vowed to not take any more photos of. Yet. Broke that vow within five minutes when I saw it from another angle) I wandered up, up, up this hill. The views were spectacular. Breathtaking. And then I wondered why are the best views from higher up and what if that is the reason we (I) always think that this mountain or that mountain will have something better to offer. I continued thinking about that whole theme on my way down the hill. Why is going down hill so much easier and isn’t there a lesson to be learned in all of this? If we (again I) want better views, climb the mountain, but know that other mountains will have equal if not better views and (by this time, I know I have lost at half dozen of you, namely Joe, who is likely calling me a hippie right now) the air will be easier to breathe, and the grass will be greener only until we (yes, I) see that other mountain or snow covered peak…constantly searching…seeking…anyway, as I transcended, the thoughts just raced through me.

From barcelona

This part of the blog is written to you as I am three (maybe four) sheets to the wind. I spent the evening in a local bar (bar josep) with a group of attractive and unattractive Spaniards. I am only drinking Jack-n-cokes while I am on vacation, but it's funny. You have to actually say you want a "jack daniels and coke-a-cola" when ordering or they look at you strangely. At the bar, one man, who had wished I could stay until tomorrow night to watch him play the guitar, flattered me by announcing he liked woman such as myself, but he quickly realized that I liked the younger variety as I kept looking toward a much more handsome (and inexperienced) patron. As the older (wingman) left the bar, I am certain that he spoke to the young man in Spanish or Catalan or whatever language they speak so gracefully, to make a move on me. The shy young one, did no such thing. As I left, I felt the disappointment in his eyes that I did not pursue further. I admit, that like Scarlet (as some of you have indicated) i like the attention of a fine looking man. But, as Ashley has just pointed out to Scarlet in the portion of the book I am on, men (such as him) could never be enough for her as she desires their full attention. Anyhow, I left the bar and wandered to the beach, stopping off for a desert (happened to be dinner) and took myself to the sand to eat the scrumptious treat.

The Mediterranean sea is colored in greens...to be specific, jade and emerald (just like in Steel Magnolia, her colors for pink were "blush and bashful"). It is a gorgeous combination of colors, marrying themselves together, forgetting to draw distinct lines. They merge as lovers should, as one. I had almost forgot, until tonight, to dip my feet into the ocean. I can proclaim that the Mediterranean Sea feels much like the Pacific Ocean...wet. But now, thanks to my memory kicking in, I can attest to the fact I have touch my glorious feet into this emerald/jade water.

From barcelona

Tomorrow my plan is to enjoy this region a bit more before boarding a bus to Barcelona. I will attend the Futbol Match and then chose my next destination. I have no idea what is next. My plan is to go to the train station and book whatever train they suggest. I will keep you posted on the progress. I am very much enjoying this way of travel. Aside from my loneliness, I am having a remarkable time.

From barcelona