Barcelona: Day 4

Breakfast - coffee and cigarettes. And Special K. The cereal, not the drug. You're so one-track minded. Took the metro to the Olympic village to see the beach. Not very nice, but to hear the ocean, smell the salt, feel the gritty breeze, was entrancing. Walked through the neighbourhood of Barceloneta. Reminded of the faded orange and pink apartment buildings in Florence, plaster cracking and peeling, laundry hanging on the railings among other sundries.

At Placa Espanya, one is faced with an enormous palace - a museum that seems a bit untouchable. Too far to climb so I walk down Gran Via in the sunny quietude of siesta and stepped into a small cafe for sepia andaluza and patatas bravas. Continued the wander and found myself on the path between Universitat and Catalunya where there was an abundance of prostitutes and Latin Americans.

Returning to the flat, I popped in a chill out Ibiza CD and lay about for an hour, letting memories of Madrid rush over me. Curl up and squeeze the quilt tighter around my body.

Ruby came back and we cracked open a bottle of cava - Spanish champagne - which resulted in us laughing our asses off until we almost wet our pants. Met an old friend from high school (what is the possibility of THAT happening?) and had Asian tapas and mojitos at Mosquito Bar in the Born district. Navigated the dark narrow streets of Barrio Gotica in search of a change of place. The cobblestones were wet and reflected the fuzzy yellow light of the ancient iron lamps hanging along the streets. It felt like Gotham, like an anime movie, not scary, but where the weirdest freakiest shit might go down at any second.

gotham
Originally uploaded by sashi.