Fickle

I'm over my funk. (Man, I mis-type that word every time.)

Today was a lovely last one in BCN, for three or so weeks anyway.

Clearing up my apartment since the Americans left and the French were arriving. Welcomed Franck (a French student who lives in BCN) and his parents who are visiting him, and they were such a cute little family I ended up staying for a long time with them. The parents spoke no English or Spanish, so it was sort of a Spanish-French free-for-all, with lots of gesturing and smiling. The dad Claude was such a dad: "Where can I buy a French newspaper? Where can I buy tobacco?" And the mom Regina was such a mom: "How does the washing machine work? There's a market up the road?!" It was all that much more cute because when Franck had come to see our house a couple months ago, he was specifically pleased that we had a big balcony with a view ("For my father to smoke his cigarettes and look at the sea.") and were near the Hostafrancs market ("My maman hates supermarkets.")

Met up with Rodolfo for a final coffee before our respective vacations. Reading material exchanged.

Then zoomed off for one last clothes shopping session (We've entered segunda rebajas, people! Super low prices on great stuff. Wrah!)

Then to Adam and Leeann and Violet in Barceloneta....where Leeann mended two articles of my clothing on her sewing machine, fed me gorgeous homemade food for the third time in as many weeks, and was pleased to see I was wearing the earrings she had made me (They are perfect for my head! I wear them every day almost now.).

Now at Antoni and Marta's café using their internet and drinking their coffee....then it will be home to shower off my many bike-rides' worth of sweat, two episodes of Entourage, and bed.

Have received a little email from my monkeys and am in the quiet happy pre-viaje mode. Mmmm.