We disappeared to Barcelona for a few days. It stays as it was left, although the lime grove of Santa Creu is a little shabbier, and the beach is a little wider. Our flight was delayed for about an hour.
There are still pigeons to chase in Placa Catalunya.
We bumped into The Pet Shop Boys here:-
We tried to behave like tourists,
but something about the city feels like home. In the bakers they told me I spoke Spanish like a Catalan. This meant "badly", I suspect. There was a good swell most mornings, and we'd wander down to the beach to watch the surfers and play Beach Tag.
On Saturday the wind died and the beach was overtaken by anglers.
I walked out on Sunday before we went to the airport. There was a brilliant low sun, and "a blue true dream of sky".
3 comments:
Hold onto that beautiful picture of you and Daisy. When she is 23, those things will mean more than you know to both of you.
Brilliant photos Tom. And no worries about speaking like a Catalan, it was just obvious that you were an Auslander. You don't want to come off as sounding like a Spanish language teacher, which is equally as obvious, eh?
I would have thought that sounding like a Catalan in Cataluña was a compliment.
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