Day One

My friends know how much I hate Mondays. They’ve had to put up with my whiny FB posts for years, and my colleagues have had to put up with my grumpy disposition in the office on more than one occasion. One of the reasons I picked a Monday as the day to arrive in Barcelona was to thumb my nose at that loathsome day of the week thus making it much less loathsome and I think it worked!

Barcelona is quite lovely on a Monday. Or a Tuesday. Or on any day of the week, really. Even as tired as I was on this first Monday, I needed to fight through and stay awake as long as possible. What does one do to stay awake? One walks … a lot. I needed to learn the lay of the land so I walked around; unfortunately that also meant my feet, released at last from the binds of the travelling boots, were just as unprepared for the sandals I replaced them with. The same sandals in which I trekked around Victoria, seemingly for hours, now chafed in all the wrong places. Fortunately, there are many benches in this city on which to rest one’s wary bones (or feet) and I took advantage of a few them, regularly.

When it came time to go to bed, I was more than ready. I have a nice little room, in an apartment in an older building, right next to a police station, in Les Corts neighbourhood. I have a comfy bed, a little balcony I can hang out on (though the little chair out there isn’t nearly as comfortable as I’d like but little chairs rarely are), and a view of the sky, which is particularly beautiful with a full moon. My hosts are very nice though we tend to stay out of each other’s way and their kitty, Sadie, seems to like me (don’t tell Lucy! She’s mad at me enough).  I think I’m going to like it here.