The night and day with catherine has been the best time I’ve spent in the company of a girl in a long time

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So after my stupidity of missing my train, i awoke at 5am, the first time of being awake that early since i would go to bed at that time ib winter. I caught a train to Barcelona airport, and caught my pla e on time. I had 45minutes in Paris, before catching a quick train down to Bordeaux(a convoluted route, but rapid and efficient), to enjoy the sun while I waited for alex after he knocked a guy into the ditch, then got lost. A tirin day, ended by hanging with his mates and siblings, but me too tired to speak French.
Said my good-Bye to alex over juice and off again.
Yesterday I drove up, pretty uneventful until I hit paris, which usually I avoid, but without map, driving alone, I let the gps do her job. It took me two hours to get around Paris, it Gould have been less than one. Je deteste la peripherique!
So to Amiens. I got here eventually. I tried contacting catherine earlier in the day, but got the number wrong. I met catherine in lacauno, in the campsite. But I got the number off my laptop, and she came to meet me. We walked through the pretty town, drank wine, when in France, then went to her friends party.
I’d met most of these guys already, and they were super drunk, entertaining, maybe embarressing for catherine.
I’m sleepy, in bed, chilled, happy.

So it’s been a pretty bad day all in.
I woke up after a noisey nights sleep on laia’s sofa, caught an hour of sleep in her bed after she left for work. When I finally went to leave for Barcelona, to catch my train for France, I found she had locked me in. There was no answer from her mobile, leaving me contemplating jumping down balconies to escape. In the end, marta managed to call the hair salon where laia works, an laia’s nephew came and released me.
I spent a short wander in Barcelona, and a quick lunch with her and her mates and dogs, one looking like a confused lamp.
So then came the stupidest moment, not checking the time, I guess the sun and heat had got to my head. So I took a walk up montjuic to see the city from above, I thought it would take maybe 30 minutes. I have no idea though, I enjoyed the walk, took a couple of photos, and just while I was wondering through the castle at the top, I checked the time.
It was 6 minutes before my train left for France, Shit!!!
So I listened to my music to keep chilled and made the 45 minute journey to the station. The station looked so close, I could have glided down one of those wires in seconds.
So in the station, as I’ve begun to notice in all Catalan stations, it’s total disorganisation, huge queues, and people running round stressed like, chickens with no heads.
I spent an hour and a half in there and I; got no ticket, as tomorrows train is fully booked, sweated a lot, got information of a slow train tomorrow thy can’t be booked and involves lots of stops and changes before France, but on the up side, I got my ticket refunded ! (something I had heard is the norm in Europe)
So I spent ages wondering the streets, to find a net cafe and organise myself.
I now have a flight to Paris at 07:30 tomorrow morning, thank fffk, I’m sick of trains for now. From which I an get to Bordeaux by TGV, and still meet alex in time to take me home after he drops his girlfriend off at the airport. This shouldn’t come to much more than the cost of training it all the way, even with the cheap hotel which I have here by the train station.
It’s a good thing I’m tired, because I need early sleep before my 5am wake up. And good riddence to today.
Yay for 4 cheese pizza, chilli oil and red wine the perfect recipe for sleepiness.
And I can’t wait to go to England!!!

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Listening to knife with weebls-stuff.com after drinking and smoking.

I had a lovely vegorganic breakfast near the ramblas in Barcelona this morning. I haven’t eaten since then an am a bit peckish, I feel like eating cold tortilla.
Just now the waves came flying up the beach, screams all round, and some people fleed with wet towels
I’m laying on the beach near mongat nord, it’s just about a barable temperature in the air. I’m waiting for laia to finish work, then see what we will get up to. Hanging in premia is boring, but going into Barcelona is expensive, so have to wait n see.
Last night I stayed in a pleasent enough hostel, ramblas house, supposedly a chilled place. I needed sleep, otherwise I would have loved to have joined the cards and drinking.
But the highlight was going to see the ‘magic fountain’ near placa españa. Last year the fountain wasn’t running due to drought, but my god, everybody has to see this. It’s an opera of water, a giant colour changing, musical phenomena. There were maybe 2000 people there. It was possibly better with the occassional showers passing over, and red yellow sky off inland.

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I decided to head back to Barcelona. I enjoy Madrid, and could quite happily stay there longer, but wanted to leave before getting settled. I want there to be plenty of reason to go back, and go back I shall, maybe this year, maybe not.
I tend to appear into peoples lives quite suddenly, and disappear, just as suddenly.
But I want to work my way back to my car, and ultimately, England.

So as I drift in an out of sleep along the rails at high speed, dreaming of the future, I think I’ll add a little about the past few hours.
Yesterday I spent almost ten hours wandering Madrid, wandering lost, wandering lushous parks, wandering art museums, laying in parks, passing beautiful people all along.
The strangest coincidence for a while, victor, who I have never seen except on the snow or behind a set of decks, just so happened to live in the same hood of Madrid as esti. So I had a beer at his. Watched how his snowboard video of my friends is coming along. Copied lots of his music. Then we met esti for eats before bed.
I’m not so excited when visiting a classical art museum but the museo del prado had some works that are among my favourite artists whom I studed at school; Bosch, patinir and Dali, so it was definatly worth it.
Today i visited the museum of modern art, reina Sofia. I was a little tired for a two hour art gallery wander but it was enjoyable, though my sleepiness from just waking now leaves me wondering what I actually saw?!

So twenty minutes from Barcelona, I hve no idea where I will stay, I I’ve no phone numbers for the people I know, maybe a hostel. I think I’ll stay in Spain omirow night too.

It’s been two months since I had my dreadlocks cut off and I’ve really seen such a difference to the way people treat me.
People are more more open, seeming less scared. Groups of people would have a mental barrier up with me that no longer exist, and the only difference is my appearance.
So now life seems to be a little easier in this shallow world, maybe job hunting will be easier, when I need to do that.
One point esti made last night is that, looking ‘normal’, you socialise with different people, many people who are not even worth knowing, like part of your identity is now gone, leaving you a little open to the crap that was being blocked put before.
I don’t doubt that it was a good decision, and much positive will come of it, but it’s an interesting change.
I’m on the metro, heading to downtown Madrid, no bag to weight me down, had a good night’s sleep, tine to explore!

Or 311kph, I’m on a train from Barcelona to Madrid right now. I think this is the fastest that I’ve ever travelled at on land.
My shoulders are peely from too much sun a week ago in lacauno.
Yesterday I met laia on the beach at premia se mar. We had some beers, dinner, wine, And she got quite drunk. She’s made a new song, it’s nice but needs much work. I’m impressed that she’s working things out to have time to make music, and live.
This morning I had an hour on the beach, so I feel a little rosy, but not burned, good!
Today will be the first time that I’ve ever been to Madrid, flying in on the way to Peru doesn’t count.
So I guess I’m staying with esti, maybe see victor, maybe a friend of laia, I have no idea about this place.

Last night I stayed at the sant jordi hostel. It’s supposedly a Big party hostel, but it was Sunday and everybody was suffering a little. I managed to guess a guys accent as pensylvanian, super impressive!
So I went out with 3 canadians, after we watched Italy have it’s ass kicked in the conferate league. I’d never even heard of this tournament!
So we went to the harbour for ricey dishes, introducing them to paella and sangria. Then I acted as their tour guide wandering the streets with beer.
We ended up in placa catalunya, winding up the old men selling beers and drugs.
I got chatting with a couple of glaswigians down for sonar, out of drugs, and we headed to city hall, a club, a sausage fest, and then I went back to the hostel.
Today I’ve just wondered about, trying to check the balance of my Swiss bank account, but with no luck. In gracia I bought a shirt and met a lovely polish girl who’s doing pretty much the same as I, working, travelling.
Now I guess I’ll head to premia as all of the shops are closed.

The sound I hear whilst sat by the canal outside Toulouse railway station. Why? To scare the hobos, junkies, pidgins, or just a broken speaker? Who knows.
I’ve bought my ticket to Barcelona, and should get there around eight pm.
I spent a good three hours wandering around Toulouse.
City of creativity, life, history character.
Lacking greenery, hostels, helpfulness.
So now I’m waiting until it’s time to get my train.
This water looks to murky and horrid to sustain much life, but the are fish here, ocassionally jumping out of the water, presumably looking for a better life.
I think it’s time to go and wait in the station to get my platform.