as usual I missed the train! So I was quite stressed will they recognise my
ticket on the next but the guy was very fine (to be noted down!). Anyway I was kinda nervous all through, not sure if ill get in time, my luggage was several kilograms above the limit, etc.
But later there was a good omen for the trip! On one of the stops I was
twisting around trying to see if it is the one i have to get off - some place
named Ely. When i turned back there was that girl, quite fit, going to get down
and stretching for her luggage which was exactly above my seat. And so my nose
came some 15cm from her belly! I was immersing in the field of tiny white hairs and the little bumps that bear them, and the just hinted slopes of muscles under the milk skin... and was thinking I havent seen this so special view, nicer
than any sunset, for quite some time now...
For the remaining hour in the train I was thinking i should have said to her
"Very nice belly, miss. Thank you that you share it with us so gratuituously" or
something of the sort. But in that moment I wasnt prepared to speak, and she was
away soon. I hope that at least she noticed my smile of found peace of mind and
took it as a present.
*
5 minutes since I stepped out of the bus and I was in love with it. I was in
nothing more than a sleeping quarter of the city - 2 metro stops from the centre as I found out. Sleeping and empty (it was midnight) but, hey, they had the big communal rubbish bins on the streets! they are so necessary for me to make a town feel alive and romantic!
Streets were again the bottoms of precipices; sky was returned to its rightful
place - somewhere far above your head! Indeed, there was not a building less than 5
floors, most were 6 or 7! At last, eyesight was restricted to directions and
saved from insanity. by the flow of parallel edges above, by the lining of the trees, TREES!
It was too dark to see if the buildings are beautiful (as it is rumoured) or not -
but it didnt matter. They were Proper! They had balconies - hundreds! They had a
maze of windows as if a herd of Arguses has suddenly stopped for a respite here. Each window - with its own character! The walls had no private gardens in front to remove them from the street and from the pedestrian seeking their soothing company!
At midnight it was warm as your lover's lap! Ah, tomorrow at noon will be
great! Baking hot!
It felt like home. Not too clean, not too cared for. Natural. The hostel where I
booked was closed by hygiene authorities - says a message on the door. No, not exactly like home - the owners actually did something about it - "we have arranged
alternative bookings in other hostels, check your email". Huh, email.
The internet cafe on next street was closed. Here kids do not play LAN games 24
hours a day? Back to the message, there is also a phonenumber. Streetphones work with coins too, 2 stops with the yellow line, 10min walk from Joanic, J-o-a-n-i-c, allegre de dalt, d like Denmark, No 66. I appreciated there is no "we are sorry". Its tough
luck, buddy, shit happens, you know.
Ok, 22 euro paid on the reception in that other place in another sleeping
quarter of the city. 2 in the morning. "Taking shower prohibited between 24:00 -
6:30". Unfortunately, they have written it also in english so I could not
pretend misunderstanding. :( Starting to wonder why I paid those 22 euro - soon will start the day anyway and I will move to the place I have booked for tomorrow - an appartement. I ask the belgian girls in my new room - ¿is there no water in the showers? "You are not allowed to take a shower now". ¿But is it not working? "It says on the the door - showers cant be used between 24 and 6." ¿Yes, yes, I saw the message, but does it mean they have stopped the water?
They havent stopped it. Much refreshing.
I could hear through the open window the voices and the tinkling of plates and glasses coming from outside. A sound I missed so much since my last house in Sofia -
with the restaurant garden across the street! I leaned out: it was not directly opposite,
rather on the corner a some 10 meters down the street - something between a cafe
and a pub. this is the type of french cafe?
Going out I didnt stop at the reception to ask with my handicapped butchered spanish
"¿algun comida cerca aqui?" lest he notices my hair is damp. :) Went towards
the cafe.
*
"un plato tortilla" (thanks to Xavi) "y una cerveza por favor" (thanks to my
textbook). i was afraid if i order some food I dont know - it might contain
sea-presents. :) the beer was nice - served in cool iced glass. all other times
i tried beer since - it tasted horrible. (ok, I dont like to admit it in front
of english, but I actually, sometimes, like to drink beer (the lager one) - maybe when I am eating cooked food).
About 3 oclock the owner and the waiter sat on the bar to have a beer and
cigarrette - after pulling the outside widnow-fences and cleaning the empty tables and
putting the chairs on top. they were waiting for the last guests to grasp the
hint they should go home. It was the local group of 27-34 year olds of course,
another smaller of 45-50 year olds. I was there too - finished my tortilla and
gargling over my glass of beer just to spend some more time absorbing the
atmosphere of no-hurry - watching the people coming in and out - some to have a chat
with the owner, or with some of the groups, to have a look at the magazines on
one of the tables (women of course), or to quietly drink a glass on the bar (men of course).
That night I was happy.
See you soon!
Peterborough, Barcelona,
29.VI.2005
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