The shindig on Thursday night was only the beginning!
Pride weekend proper here in Barcelona begins on Friday. Thus it is that, after recovering from the Thursday night bash at Placa Universitat, and teaching my solitary Friday afternoon class at Arc de Triomf, I remember that Paolo said there was yet another party on Friday at Placa Reial, just off La Rambla. Pride or not, you’re never far from a free party in Barcelona! Continue reading “Barcelona life – Pride weekend!”
So ok – I’m back at Bar Berlin, in the lengthy break between faraway classes I have every Thursday. These two, Abertis and Bayer Pharmaceuticals, are so far out (but in the same direction), that it’s not worth me going home for the two and a half hours between them. It is, however, an excellent chance to enjoy a cervesa in the sunshine, and write a blog post!
Continue reading “Barcelona – a week in the life”
My story continues… now.
Arriving at the unfortunately named Barcelona El Prat
airport, I encounter my first bit of Spanish efficiency as I board the train to
town. The train pulls out, slows down, then stops. For ages. Eventually it
starts to move, slowly. Then stops. For ages.
Continue reading “Barcelona – weekend before the work begins”
And so, I’m back in Barcelona.
It’s been a mad few months since the end of the Big Trip,
during which my outlook on life totally changed, along with my plans for the
future. After the emotionally draining but vital week I spent here in October,
I got a lot of things straight in my head, and made a lot of Big Decisions.
Yes, I was going to get a tattoo.
Continue reading “Barcelona – the road back”
After the upsets of last night, I don’t sleep very well despite the reassuring presence of Tom snoring. It’s occurred to me that I may have left my passport in the van, and I’m not sure if it’ll still be there when I get back.
Continue reading “The Big Trip, Day 7: Barcelona – another day in paradise”
After writing that last blog post, I end up chatting for ages to fellow travellers in the Wild Rover Irish pub. As you could tell from the name, it’s a haven for English speaking tourists who don’t want anything too… Spanish. One of them is a retired engineer from North Carolina called Phil, and the others are a father, mother and son from Maidenhead in Kent. Continue reading “The Big Trip, Day 6 (later) night time in Barcelona”
Day 11: Tuesday
My last day at Trelay, and that means I need to fix that floppy TV aerial so it at least doesn’t cover up the rear number plate. Borrowing a handy ladder (the place is full of them), Tom watches in the role of Health & Safety as I climb to the roof of the van and have a poke around. Continue reading “Vanlife, the second week. Day 11: Tuesday”