Friday, Jun. 13, 2003 @ 1:28 am
Barcelona
I�m looking out onto the Ramblas at the groups of drinking people wander. There are living statues and flower vendors lining the walkway, a lady flamenco dancing on a wooden stage outside one of the cafes.
It was a long haul to get here, complete with strike-ignoring scab bus drivers, secret train transfers and giving my seat up for a nun.
Memories of Paris. A sunset cruise with a 3 euro bottle of red wine. The water shimmering orange and purple and people dancing on the walls of the Seine. Dancing. We could not hear the music, just see all the couples dancing in time and the river swirling with the wake of the barge.
Then the next evening under the Eiffel Tower watching the sun set beyond the iron puzzlework. Karen and Sarah and cheese and baguettes. And wine. Sarong light around my legs, couples kissing just beyond.
Days of paintings and statues, parks, people. Hawkers of water, beer, trinkets, keychains, dancing disney characters, roses...
The hotel room held me, Jake and Josh. I like them. One night at 4am, Josh returned from the club and we lay side by side in the dark just talking. It was peaceful and sweet and he reached over to touch me at an appropriate moment. And just then Jake returns with two american girls in tow. One girl is constantly hiccuping and the other starts to smoke. Just before they flick on the lights Josh reaches over and squeezes my arm tightly "Hold on, hold on." And then girl 1 hops into bed with him and all I hear for the next few hours is the sounds from both their beds. Josh says to her "I won�t kiss you. I won�t be your number 7 of the night" but he still lets her stay in his bed. From the far side I hear sounds then an incredibly loud snoring.. from the girl. Jake is alseep on the floor between the beds.
At 7am the girls stumble back to their beds, one of them absolutely drunk still. One flipflop in the bathroom.
The boys apologise profusely in the morning. "You have to understand, they were not invited" and I reply "Well you sure didn�t try hard to kick them out" and half heartedly snark "Just maintains the stereotype that americans are rude".
It�s all in the past though, and we�ve laughed about it and mocked the snoring girl secretly from behind in the train station.
Train station. Hello Spain.
Side note. Email inbox. Dave. Went to live with family in Barbados?! Struggling for change... we haven�t emailed each other in a couple years. And then I realized what this means: closure. The only reason that Tequila and I aren�t together (well, the reason in the past, unsure of his present feelings... though drunken touching indicate as much) is because he�s friends with Dave. I have a lot of work to do on those 5 days that I�m home in August before heading to the Internship...
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