Saturday, February 26, 2005
Viva Espana!: The Return
I'm back from Barcelona, where, for seven glorious days, there was no snow. And that's all that really matters.
We stayed in an apartment rented out by a nice woman. It was a little tiny, but it worked. The first few days were murder, though: I was depressed and tired all of our first day there, and then I ended up getting up at 3 in the morning Barcelona time and barely being able to go back to bed. After that, however, things straightened out, and I was on Barcelona time.
That day, we checked out some buildings by the architect Gaudi, including the Casa Batllo, which, in my honest opinion, looks like Cthulhu's summer house. I mean, look at that: does that not scream non-Euclidean madness? Still, he did also design one of the most awesome apartments I've ever seen, so he comes off even.
Brother Cognito and I decided to go clubbing one night. We went to a gay bar called Arena right down the street from our apartment, but I ended up splitting after a half-hour due to a lack of good music and a couple that kept coming up to me and asking if I wanted to dance with them every five minutes, no matter how many times I said "not interested." Ah, well. It was my first time, and there's always Lansdowne Street next year.
So, anyway: Barcelona- fun, sunny, and temperate. Boston- cold, bitter, and more fucking snow. I miss it already.
We stayed in an apartment rented out by a nice woman. It was a little tiny, but it worked. The first few days were murder, though: I was depressed and tired all of our first day there, and then I ended up getting up at 3 in the morning Barcelona time and barely being able to go back to bed. After that, however, things straightened out, and I was on Barcelona time.
That day, we checked out some buildings by the architect Gaudi, including the Casa Batllo, which, in my honest opinion, looks like Cthulhu's summer house. I mean, look at that: does that not scream non-Euclidean madness? Still, he did also design one of the most awesome apartments I've ever seen, so he comes off even.
Brother Cognito and I decided to go clubbing one night. We went to a gay bar called Arena right down the street from our apartment, but I ended up splitting after a half-hour due to a lack of good music and a couple that kept coming up to me and asking if I wanted to dance with them every five minutes, no matter how many times I said "not interested." Ah, well. It was my first time, and there's always Lansdowne Street next year.
So, anyway: Barcelona- fun, sunny, and temperate. Boston- cold, bitter, and more fucking snow. I miss it already.
