Today was my last day in Barcelona. I wish logistical issues hadn’t clouded my time here. It’s a fun city if you can endure the heat. I walked down La Rambla and took a left at Christopher Columbus to head to Barceloneta beach. Along the way I met this thing.
A child was pointing at it and crying.
Baceloneta, part of old Barcelona, is a bit winding and narrow as you would expect. It smells like salt and laundry soap.
The curving roads were a bit disorienting but I eventually found the beach. It was 22 degrees Celsius and people were swimming, sunbathing, playing soccer or volleyball, or just drinking a lot.
I touched the Mediterranean Sea for the first time in 17 years.
A bit cold.
I haven’t been feeling all that wonderful and consequently haven’t eaten much in the way of local fare. My stomach hasn’t been up to it. Today, though, I was on a Paella or Bust mission.
Bust. (Good subtitle for my autobiography, that)
Two places were out of Paella. I stayed at the second place and ordered shrimp tapas.
These shrimp were a bit uncooperative at first and a dog kept staring at me while I was trying to delicately pry off the legs and shells.
He looked away as soon as he saw me take out my phone. Isn’t that always the way.
My iphone pedometer says I walked 17,000 steps today. Time to put my feet up and rest.
Tomorrow I go to Narbonne to try to negotiate a ticket to my actual destination, Bordeaux. Maybe the strike will be done by then…?
paralyzedbynotcaring 