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girl-detective wrote...What is your opinion of the Barca's "Catalan Sunset" away kit?
Back when I was first drinking, I used to do shots of something called Alabama Slammers. I don’t remember what was in them or what they tasted like, I just know that those away kits look just like the ensuing vomit that splattered all over the parking lot of The Upper Deck in Syosset, Long Island.
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![The woman had one of those old fashioned cameras, the kind that spits the picture out immediately. He thought how simultaneously archaic and futuristic that was. She shook the photo around a bit and they came into focus, the two of them sitting on a bench, back to the photographer, looking fresh in love.
“Thought you might like this. Waiting for your ship to come in.” She smiled.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were watching their ship sail out.
He thanked her, tucked the photo into his jacket.
The three of them went their separate ways.
[The Pictured Word #2]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/4789c2365f8cc1e859729f4d028b6444/tumblr_mg1oyxqJGU1qzwnozo1_500.jpg)
The woman had one of those old fashioned cameras, the kind that spits the picture out immediately. He thought how simultaneously archaic and futuristic that was. She shook the photo around a bit and they came into focus, the two of them sitting on a bench, back to the photographer, looking fresh in love.
“Thought you might like this. Waiting for your ship to come in.” She smiled.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were watching their ship sail out.
He thanked her, tucked the photo into his jacket.
The three of them went their separate ways.
[The Pictured Word #2]
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I go back to work today. I have not been at work since October 31st.
This photo was taken our last day in Barcelona. One last meal of tapas. One last beer. One last espresso. One last moment at an outdoor cafe, people watching and just enjoying the quiet company of each other.
There is a lot from this vacation I want to keep with me. I will forget the exhaustion, the sleeplessness, the head colds we both had. I will remember this: the feeling of peace, of happiness, of complete enjoyment of a single moment without letting negative stuff intrude upon it - something I have such a hard time achieving.
I will remember the romance of this trip, the way we really celebrated not only our six years together, but celebrated each other as well, our lives, our accomplishments, the fact that seven years ago, before we met, neither of would have imagined we’d be sitting at a cafe in Barcelona sharing a moment of utter happiness with a partner in every sense of the word.
I will remember the feeling that everything is ok, everything is good, the future looks wonderful and the present is an amazing place to be. I will remember the peace.
And I will take that all with me to work today, to my routine, to the mundane tasks of life that are now just necessary minutes between extraordinary moments.
If I have learned anything in the past year, which has been both tumultuous and enlightening, it’s how to process life. And how to enjoy it.
And so a photo of olives and beer becomes a signifier, a captured emotion, a reminder to breathe in, breathe out, it’s all good.
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Goodbye, Barcelona.
It’s been a wonderful week, you’ve been a great host. But it’s time to go home.
I have not stayed in my house since November 3rd. I’ve not been in my house with its electricity on since October 29th. I’m looking forward to home, heat, lights and hopefully a house that’s been post-Sandy cleaned up (hi, Nat!).
We’ve had a lovely time. Barcelona is a great place. But I don’t think I’ve ever looked so forward to home at the end of vacation.
Homeward.
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Sugar, the gift of the sixth anniversary.
We are packing up to go home. We’ll leave the hotel at 7am tomorrow morning and say goodbye to Barcelona, probably for good. We’re thinking Holland next year.
This was a good week. Even though we arrived exhausted, barely slept and we were both sick for most of the trip, we managed to celebrate our anniversary in ways both large and small.
Tonight we ate our last meal here at an outdoor restaurant. We reminisced about our years together and talked about what wonderful things the future holds for us. At the end of our meal, our waiter brought out two glasses of champagne and I wondered if he could tell from our demeanor that we were celebrating something.
I hope so.
Here’s to six years, to sugar in all its forms, to the years ahead and the years behind.
And here’s to vacations, and to going home.
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When they ask “what the hell happened to her last day in Barcelona?” tell them it was the sangria.
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Montjuic - flckr
Photos from today. The Olympic Museum on Montjuic and some photos from other places on the mountain.
So many steps. So much climbing. I hurt in all the good ways.
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Todd says hey, what’s up.
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Barcelona, Day 5(?)
Yesterday started with heartfelt coffee and ended with sushi. In between was a lot of walking, walking, walking, seeing parts of the city off our usual path, following demonstrators and just gawking at amazing architecture.
When it came time for dinner we once again whined about how quickly we tired of tapas and paella and, not wanting to venture out to where big demonstrations were taking place, we headed back to Port Vell and the shopping center filled with restaurants. We found a great Japanese place and spent a night in Spain dining on sushi, noodles and edamame while Pink Floyd and the Mamas and Papas played on a radio in the background. Then we just sat by the water and looked at the lights reflecting on the sea before we walked back to the hotel.
Two more nights here. I love vacation but I also get to the point in vacations where I want to be home again. I’m just about there.
Today, we conquer a mountain.
Which will be a lot easier than conquering sleep, something I’ve not been able to do in about a month.
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Barcelona General Strike - flickr
We ventured out this morning even though we were told to just stay in today. We found one contingent of the strike marching up La Rambla so we followed them for a mile or two as they shouted slogans and stopped at various banks to plaster the front of the buildings with protest stickers and chant at the people inside.
There’s nothing much going on around here right now, at least not in front of us. But between the eerie silence of the roadways that’s sometimes punctuate by sirens, whistles, fireworks or the buzz of helicopters overhead and the disquiet that comes when most stores along a busy strip are shuttered, it’s a little surreal.
There is supposed to be a protest just down the block from our hotel later, so we’ll go check that out then head back to La Rambla tonight to see what we can find.
You should read up on the general strike and find out what they people of Spain are fighting for. Things I saw and heard today: Better pay for teachers and social workers and the plight of people who are losing homes to banks that were bailed out and they have to keep paying off their mortgage debt even when the banks take their homes.
Sound familiar?
Oh, and there’s a 22% unemployment rate here.
