Barcelona Travel Journal

Entry 1

Today is Friday, February 14, 2025

I’ve gotten to the airport so early, that my flight is not checking in yet.  Which means, according to the lovely Spanish lady behind the Iberia, Premium Economy desk, that I can’t check my bag, or go through security, for another 45 minutes.  Iberia’s realm is the far end of terminal 8, adjacent Qatar airlines, and another Asian airline that seems all but deserted, for the moment, at least.  Bonus, there’s no place to sit, nothing to eat, and no bathrooms.  

I see an airbus fly by on rails, outside the window of the terminal, in the dark of night.  

Today is Saturday February 15, 2025

Rocky start to the trip but I believe I have rallied.  We were delayed several hours at takeoff with no information from the airline.  Watching people go up to the desk one after the other for information.  None was forthcoming.  I went up myself.  Tried to remain friendly, not hostile.  It was hard after having been at the airport for 7 hours, at 1:00 am.  I was on the verge of giving up of leaving of jumping off a bridge.  Then they began boarding.  Lovely agent with a red flower in her hair but sticking straight up in the air, a la Picasso or something equally appropriate and fun, waved me through first. 

The plane is a relic.  I realize that the economy seat plus that I booked is akin to first class.  That there is no first class.  That I do indeed have a sort of little pod.  There is orange juice and water served before takeoff.  I can barely think.  Abby sends a picture of Cookie the puppy.  She looks like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, I think sleepily to myself.  Huge schnozz.  Missing time.  Then we are in the air, climbing. 

The city and world drop away, becoming a map of lights.  Houses, electricity, people, just dots on the receding globe.  At once beautiful, and somehow sad.  For some reason, I realize the answer to a question that’s puzzled me for a long time. 

Exhaustion grips me once more.  The cabin is noisy.  Nothing makes sense to me in my little pod.  The tv, the gadgets, the buttons.  I press everything.  Nothing happens.  I can’t figure out how to recline the seat and give up.  Exhausted, the Wi-Fi doesn’t seem to work.  Impossible to do my usual endless scrolling.  So, I put my laptop away, lie my head down on a hard surface to my left side.  Cover myself with the blanket provided by the airline. 

Eyes close. Eyes open.

My seat has magically reclined, slightly.  More comfortable.  Nod off again, almost immediately.  Wake up once more.  Stewardesses moving through the aisles with breakfast.  I get cookies and a coffee.  The coffee is surprisingly delicious.  Elixir of life.  I put in two creamers and a sweetener.  It’s strong.  Not that weak American crap.  Delicious.  Someone has closed my window while I was asleep.  I crack it open but see only glaring light, and slide it shut again.

Eyes close. Eyes open.

Almost there.  Only about an hour to go.  I try to remember my last session with Eagle before the trip.  The love and hope she sent me off with.  I try to remember the counsel of my own writing.  No more shadows.  I want to embrace love, and life. 

Barcelona, almost

I already love everything about the country.  Everything has a pleasing shape.  Low and flat and fat.  Even the trees.  Though I did see some palm trees or something similarly tropical.  Haven’t seen palm trees in so many years.  Good for the soul to travel and see different landscapes.   

Today is Sunday February 16, 2025

Barcelona

Hotel Neri

Wonderful hotel as it turns out.  In the Gothic Quarter.  Delicious restaurant. 

I am, happily, left to my own devices.  I decide I shall to a book fair/market.  Walk the neighborhood.  Take in the sites.  Perhaps I will go inside the cathedral. 

Sunday February 16, 2025

Went the wrong way round first.

I wanted to change into better walking shoes.  The streets are uneven at best.  Don’t want to trip plus needed something with better support. 

I spoke to a lovely woman concierge.  The day before had been a man.  She was less helpful than he had been but lovely, nonetheless.  I wanted to go to an outdoor market with books, but it was due to close only about an hour and a half from when I was ready to go out again.  My first venture out for the day had me purchasing some easy to wear sunglasses with color-tinted lenses which I like to have and a bowl for smoking weed, because I find pipes more efficient and effective than joints, which I tend not to inhale properly.

I found my way back to the hotel.  Washed my face and changed into a more comfortable walking/day outfit.  The room is so fabulous I love it.  Not fancy but fancy.  Low key. A mixture of high and low.  A stone bathroom.  Fabulous.  Private outdoor deck to smoke on.  With a chair and footrest, I can pull away from the sunshine.  I sat for a moment only.  Then back inside.  Lay down for a moment on the bed, freshly made while I was away.  And then out again, via the lobby, where I asked for a pharmacy recommendation as well as a bookstore or market.  Because there was a marathon in town today and because it is a Sunday a lot of things are closed.  And since it is my first real day in Barcelona, I did a little positive self-talk and chill out talk.  It went something like this:

“There’s no wrong thing to do.  You aren’t going to get in trouble. You can take it easy.  You don’t need to worry about anybody’s judgment about what you are doing or not doing.”

Something along those lines.  I started out in the direction of the book market but got waylaid at a vintage clothing shop.  Tried on 4 pairs of vintage jeans and about 4 tops.  Ended up buying a vintage silk men’s blouse, which must’ve originally been white and had been died purple by the shop.  Everything is so well-priced here.  The conversion rate for euros to USD is about equal now.  So, no complicated math to figure out.  Only disappointment so far is that I bought 2 beautiful necklaces yesterday at an artisan’s studio, and one of them broke already.  I know I should take it back for the artist to fix it, but I didn’t have it in me today.  Maybe tomorrow. 

Another fun thing, the symbol of Barcelona or of Modern Art and Design in Barcelona is a sort of circle in a square.  I decide I’d like to get a tattoo here.  I will make a list of things to do back at the hotel.  Already can think of several: tattoo; massage; shopping.  Outdoor markets; bookstores.  Museums of course.  Want to ask somebody about the ruins I saw on the way here, carved into the side of a hill.  Mostly have put the nightmare that awaits me in NYC and upstate out of my mind.  Feeling increasingly relaxed. 

Would very much have liked to make it to a bookstore.  Maybe will take a taxi to one then go back to hotel to relax.  Very proud of myself for good decisions and judgment in multiple matters.  Good job, Annie. 

 Monday, February 17, 2025

Still Barcelona

Not a bad day.  Not great.  But I’m not looking for great.  I’m not expecting great.  And therefore, I will not find great.  Because there is very much a reality to the concept of the self-fulfilling prophecy.  And the need for a glass half full attitude.  And the requirement that one be open to good experiences, for them to happen.  Because people will generally respect the boundaries or walls, we set up.  And if they don’t, beware, because it foretells a violence in them.  

I woke late; woken by room service knocking on my door.  I’d filled out my menu last night to be served in my room this morning.  Something of a disappointment when it arrived, but only because the coffee was basically water.  I mean, it was not coffee.  So perhaps I will and perhaps I will not do that again.  I might go try my luck at someplace nearby and sit and work for a bit before I go to the Picasso Museum in the early afternoon. 

Interesting thing, they don’t like women here.  I walked out of the hot restaurant where I had a reservation because the hostess was so rude to me.  And I’m so glad I did.  I’m spending my own money after all.  Not to be treated rudely by misogynistic idiots. 

Sitting now eating dinner in a Roman style pizzeria, whatever that means.  Ordered a virgin cocktail. 

REM’s playing. 

Everywhere here is like a bad flashback to my misspent youth with hits from American alternative or mainstream music all the way from the 80’s through the 2010’s.  Bananas.  But I dig it. 

It’s the end of the world as I know it, and I feel fine.

It’s the end of the world as we know it.

It’s the end of the world as we know it.

And I feel fine.

Today is Wednesday February 19, 2025

At least we can stop misrepresenting ourselves to ourselves. 

And realize that the only thing we can be in this world, is human. 

It is reckless to say ‘broken.’ 

It is nonsense to say, ‘whole’ or ‘unimpaired.’