Near the End

Barcelona, Spain

Earlier this afternoon, I visited Gaudi´s "Parc Guell." It was rather nice. The sun was bright and warm. I sat on a park bench for a bit as the cockatoos in the palm trees squawked and chirped. Afterward, I met up with my couchsurfing host Sara and her friend Jordi, and we ate seafood paella near the marina. Later I sat near the beach and wrote a postcard. It was just after sunset and the strong, wintry wind made me shiver. My one, ungloved writing hand seriously felt like it could fall off at any moment due to frostbite. After dropping the postcard in the "Correos" box, I used my host´s card to take a public bicycle. I rode around for a bit, videotaping myself, and then headed back to the apartment. Upon arrival, Sara informed me that she was going to a friend´s house to watch a movie and that I was welcome to join her. I had, and still have, to organize all my belongings in my pack, journal, blog, shower, and shave, however I decided it was my last night in Barcelona and I should go for it. We ate pieces of apple, orange, pineapple, and banana dipped in chocolate fondue as we watched a Chinese film with Spanish subtitles. I dozed off a couple times but managed to wake up for the last 30 minutes. After the movie, we talked and laughed for a bit. At times I didn´t exactly understand what was being discussed, as they spoke very fast and with a thick accent, but I enjoyed myself nonetheless. We hung out for awhile longer before heading out. It was a great last day in Spain.

And now, the moment you´ve all been waiting for... the things that I will and will not miss most.


The things I will miss in Portugal, Morocco and Spain:

- My new friends (oh, how sweet)
- Madrid
- Buying something in Marrakech for really cheap by pretending to not speak English, Spanish, French or any other common language
- chocolate bars
- those fresh, grilled Sardines in Essouira
- Playing chess with Josh until 5 AM every night
- the sunsets in Essouira
- Riding on the back of Abdouaziz´s motorbike through the medina
- Getting pummeled by the ferocious tsunami-like waves in San Sebastian
- Eating with my hands in Morocco
- Spending time with new friends and feeling a part of (oh, what a sweetheart)
- Shooting video of myself on a camel, on a motorbike, on a bicycle, as well as some potentially cool video effects
- Practicing abundance
- Thanksgiving dinner three weeks late in Pamplona
- Essouira
- Wearing my zilaba
- my zilaba in general
- Romance in Madrid
- Recovering my Grandma´s scarf after it had spent the night fallen in the insanely windy, rainy Sahara
- Having my sleeping sheet
- Riding a bicycle in Barcelona
- Feeling alive and connected to the moment
- Walking through fear, mainly in Morocco
- the sweet, Moroccan mint tea
- Sharing dates (the fruit) with the old cleaning ladies at the bus station bathroom in Essouira
- Making a bracelet out of string I found on the ground in Seville
- those sweet, Moroccan honey pastries for 2 or 3 Dirhams a piece
- Getting billiards lessons from an old guy in Porto
- Listening to a few select songs by Counting Crows and feeling like it was the soundtrack to my life movie
- kebabs
- Lying on the grass, watching the meteor shower in Barcelona (thanks for the info Dad)
- Learning words in Arabic and using them
- the amazing people that I met and have become friends with... they are truly what I miss most about the places I´ve been


The things I will NOT miss about Portugal, Morocco and Spain:

- predatory vendors and commission-seekers in Morocco
- all the smoking in Spanish bars
- Travelocity and their incompetence
- Faro music (no offense to Portugese people and their culture, it just didn´t do anything for me)
- culture shock
- homesickness
- people in Barcelona, at a restaurant, refusing to give me tap water so they can charge 1.50 Euros for a bottle
- people in Barcelona, at a restaurant, trying to dissuade me from drinking tap water by telling me how disgusting it is, so they can charge 1.50 Euros for a bottle
- people in Barcelona, at a restaurant, scoffing at me when I request tap water so they can make me feel stupid and thus charge me 1.50 Euros for a bottle
- old men in Morocco that covered their faces or wouldn´t let me take pictures of them
- bathrooms without toilet paper in Morocco, which was 98% of them
- the old bathroom attendant man at the bus station in Fes who grabbed and shoved me when I refused to tip him for doing his job
- the homeless boys in Marrakech who followed me to my hotel begging for money or more chocolate, as I had given them some chocolate earlier when they weren´t begging
- the Portugese language (again, no offense to Portugese people, I just would have preferred you to speak Spanish instead)
- the Temple of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona... big disappointment
- bartering for crap in Morocco
- Fes in general
- fear of lack
- compulsive thoughts regarding fear of lack
- the overnight trips on horribly cramped, freezing buses in Morocco
- feeling like every Moroccan you meet only sees you as potential income
- the torturous, screeching Moroccan music that was blasted throughout the long night bus trips
- the moments upon first waking up in Morocco where I felt alone