barth-elona

Arrived back at 3am last night after a ryan air flight into Luton. We had a good trip over this time, stayed at a pretty plush hotel near the fira palace. we ate well, drank absinthe at the hippy bar in the dodgy Algerian district and even did some sightseeing this time. I've never been great with heights but had a near freak out at the top of the Sagrada familia. With the wind blowing and the tiny cramped pathways between the turrets and spires I felt very aware I was about a hair's breadth away from having a proper freak out. My gut was clenching with a cold chill inside and my head swam forward when i looked over the edge so much I kept having to hold myself flat against the walls like a big scaredy cat.


had a great shave by some Indian barbers but he took my sidies up too high so it looks like a mullet cut (only a bit but I hate hair that's cut high like that - is just plain wrong and wierd)


Had a chilled afternoon dozing ona bench in the sun up by the Parc Guell and ate hotdogs and wotsits. hmm living.

Got into a minor contre temps with a burly street hustler guy on the Ramblas. I was pointing out how they ripped punters off with the old ball under a matchbox con. First they had a gang of sidekicks who hustled one guy and distracted him while the guy ran off with the cash, thena second group did the staright forward bullying of two young guys into paying 50 euros each. Then a blatently fake woman won 100 euros and walke doff. I pointed her out to Pel and followed her as she walked round the back of a newspaper stand and joined the second lot but didnt realise one of them was checking me out and confronted me with [an approxinmate translation ]- 'eh professeuir - what the fuck are you doing who the fuck are you watching? he tried to grab me and started doing the whole 'poining-at-hiseys-pointing-at-my-eyes like De Niro's circle of trust in meet the parents. Plenty of shouder shrugging and we scuffled off.