bye-bye Barcelona!

Ok it is sunny again here at the chateau, now a rare thing as autumn sets in with cloud and mist and wind with mere glimpses of sun. Today however a gentle blue sky and sun on my face inspires memories and I am given a moment to recall. But this is a quickie, a last fleeting flit through Barcelona – meeting up with good people and getting ready to head to Paris. Just one day… and my notes are gone so… relying on my terribly holey memory!

Arrived and committed a heinous crime… headed straight to McDonalds. Not cos I wanted a burger or fries but because I needed internet – how else could a scraggly bunch of travellers catch up?

It’s funny really; I had always given Emre a hard time for eating Maccas and frozen food when in Spain… I mean really? What a fucken hypocrite I ordered a third of my default Maccas order (you know the order you ALWAYS had when you were a kid… mine used to be a Big Mac, chocolate thickshake and fries – now even writing it makes me wanna barf) – So fries and warm water it was, as I got online and confirmed a meeting spot with Hanna and Jan… 9with help from mobile phones too) they in turn told others. I first headed to Jan’s flat for a catch up and a mini cd download sess and a pit-stop.

We headed to said park to meet others near Barcelona’s Arc de Triumph (a prelude for all things French?)

I met the guy who had moved in after me as well and a few others. (Holy shit two auburn coloured squirrels skittered past me at the chateau - soooo cute!). We wandered around the park enjoying sunlight (some nursing hangovers!) sitting, watching others frolic.

We laughed at the OTT gold-gilt water features, but let’s face it, it's these garish touches that mark a place as special, as a space to laugh in!

This boy was so intent on the pond that he stayed in this possie for well over 15 minutes… Holiday lifestyles eh?

Eventually we kept wandering through the park where the others (not me!) had a crack – and failed – at this popular “sport”/activity. Essentially elastic is strung up between trees and the aim is to balance across – eventually doing fancy stuff. The people who had it set up were great and they kindly indulged a pack of tourists (us) who wanted a go too.

Time for a drink at an outside bar. Very touristy but let’s face it we were marking time, til I had to gather my things and head for a train - all of us reminscing our time in Barcelona, some of us starting to turn our minds to our next stop. The company was pleasant but the food I ordered was not - some fish salad thing. I barely touched it. Unusual given I knew I had a 14hr overnight train trip coming up.

Anywhoo I said good-bye to the others, jealously, and headed to Jan’s apartment to pick up my luggage and chuff-chuff off.

Now I must say Jan has proven himself a bit of a hero - twice… first with the Lemsip (a few entries ago) and secondly by storing my stuff for 2 weeks while I flitted around Spain. No biggie you say? Well you try to haul my erm rather heavy luggage up and down 3 flights of these rickety stairs!

He also kindly waited as I (in full panicked traveller mode – where’s my ticket, where’s my passport, where’s some water, where’s my ticket, where’s my passport… you get it, right?) paced and fanned myself. The train arrives – goodbye Jan, goodbye Spain – stampede. OH FUCK.

TRAIN_TRIP FROM HELL!

Suitcase handle breaks as I lug my case onto the train – drag it (picture huge fuck-off case and me with small backpack sidling my way through =narrow passages) to compartment… are you FUCKING kidding me – no luggage storage and a full compartment. The bed I’d booked specifically at the bottom has magicked itself to be a top bunk.

By now I’m flustered and crying – I had booked and paid for a first class sleeper THIS squishy closet with 3 other women was NOT what I was anticipating. I spoke to the train attendant about the luggage ticker I'd been given for luggage storage - she laughed, no such thing! And the bunk thing? a shrug of the shoulders - last day of the holidays - no spare bunks, tough luck. I was going to deck the bitch but I was so flustered and upset I ddn't have the energy. Turns out there are 3 levels of first class – this was the lowest.

The women in my cabin (kindly – if grumpily) help me get luggage in and try to pretend it didn’t worry them. Another even MORE kindly swapped beds – no-one spoke more than two words of English… or Spanish – they were French.

At 9:45 the train inspector came in and lowered all the beds, overhead lights out – bed time… my light didn’t work I was getting leg cramp, had my period, the little bit I had eaten at the bar was not agreeing with me and our cabin door didn’t snib properly and it kept slamming on the edge of my bed near my head randomly through the night. NOT HAPPY! Certainly not the romanticised idealised indulgent European train ride I had fantasized about... or paid for. It was one fucking long, sleep deprived train trip from hell … but it did eventually land me in Paris.

... but that’s next entry folks!