¡Hola!

Now that I'm feeling much less inebriated than I was whilst writing those last two posts, I though I'd better sit down and write something semi-decent.

I'm in Madrid. I left Barcelona rather sadly and wondered how the days there managed to fly by and wondered again why I was even leaving at all! Madrid is ok but just doesn't have the vibe that Barcelona does!

Let me just backtrack a little bit and make up for those two rather appalling drunken posts...

I mentioned that I'd done some daytrips whilst on the French Riviera (colon. I can't find the colon)
1. Cannes (see below)
2. Eze - ridiculously precious, really. for those of you who have been to Mark and Sandra's house in Malta, it's like that but the size of a village atop a mountain on the French Riviera. Ridiculous.
3. Menton - a typical beach town until you start walking up the mountain into the old residential area. The streets get narrower the higher you climb. Stone steps. Front doors on either side of you. Houses in various states of decay. Light orange, ping, yellow paint peeling from the walls until you find a bright one that has had a recent facelift - jumps out at you like a sudden burst of joy. I was sad to come back down the mountain - back into the world of wide-open streets, cars, shops and noise.
4. Monaco - a strange little country. Public elevators have been built into the mountain to help people get around without having to walk for ages along the winding mountain roads. The centre is fortified, tiny and pretty. The buildings look like they're made of icing. Grace Kelly's tombstone was a main tourist attraction, of course (did you know that she died in a car crash too? Seems to be the fate of much-loved princesses).

I left the blue, blue beaches of the Cote d'Azur for Avignon, where I caught the beginning of the performing arts festival. I'd booked my bed in Avignon about 3 months before leaving Berlin, knowing that the place would be teeming with people there for the festival. I saw two shows, both dance so I didn't have to contend with the French language. the best show I was though was a street performance by a circus troupe. They were great. Better than great.

On my third and last day in Avignon (I was sulking about having swallowed my tongue ring the day before - I've had it for 7 years and now I swallow it! I've since had it replaced though. All is restored to its natural balance...), I couldn't be bothered walking around anymore, so I simply sat in the main square all day and was entertained by street performer after street performer - for the entire day. It was great. I didn't even have to move (but why oh why was I sitting and watchin instead of performing? Woe is me).

From Avignon to Barcelona. The train trip was more pleasant than I expected, as I met the beautiful Lindsey and Brandt, who ended up staying at the same hostel as me in Barcelona (hey guys, if you're reading! I hope your trip ended without any crazy asthma attack induced train delays...!). Yes indeed, I love Barcelona. People speak of the energy that makes this city buzz and it's true - it's there, but it really starts to fizz and zap well after the sun goes down. The people emerge from their siestas and roam the warm streets, opening themselves to each other. Poeple smile and drink and talk to each other. The seedy underbelly of the city gradually exposes itself as the night (morning) wears on.

On my last in Barcelona I met an Algerian guy (now living in Tolouse, France) called Mehdi in Plaça Reial. He was lovely. He'd been to barceloan several times before and we had coffee in a bar that he said was owned by Manu Chau! He lives in Barcelana and apparently hangs out in the streets around his bar and busks. No Manu Chau that night, but lots of other interesting characters...

After comparing Maltese and Arabic and being delighted at how much of the other's language we could understand, Mehdi and I headed to another bar for a beer (I could only drink half of mine, as I could still feel the vodka in my body from that morning...). We met a lovely Argentinian guy called Fernandez who lives in Barcelona. His English was atrocious but he was so delightful! People are so warm in this city - it injects them with some love vibe (or maybe everyone's on happy drugs...). In this bar we witnessed a collaborative theft fo a girl's purse, so surreptitious that we only realised what had happened after the fact. Fun and games in Barcelona
We walked the streets a little more (more crowded than during the day) and I started heading in the general direction of my hsotel. Sudenly, with a "Bye Punkita!" a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek, Mehdi disappeared down a long, narrow street in the Gothic quarter. Easy come, easy go.

It's encounters like that that give me the spirit to keep travelling solo, that make a place all the more memorable.

When I arrived in Madrid, I discovered that Lindsey and Brandt had arrived at the hostel just before me and had dinner ready and waiting for me. What luxury - to turn up at a random hostel and have dinner there for you. So good.

I'm about to time out at any second so I'm going to post this right now!

Adios!