I don’t really do Christmas very well, the same goes for birthdays. Recently I was somewhat buoyed by Heather Graham on the wireless saying that she didn’t care much for Christmas either. The reason that I found this reassuring was that she was clearly far from being a miserable person. So I have mentioned a famous person’s name a few times which may or may not improve the ranking of the blog. I was going to drop an image in but I suspect that would have been seen as gratuitous.
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That will be another day of walking and exploring.

The book market was fascinating, men and children (v. young) stood in the street trading football cards, cigar smoking men trading post cards.

Jean Miro, fantastic. more>

Shame the cable-car thingy was disabled by the wind.

Street musicians again impressive although a bit of a turf war going on YouTube>

Two and a half days’ walking and we still haven’t found an end to the civilisation. It is a gruelling search though.

Barcelona - (Taken on little old Canon G3)

It is a relentless trail of food, music, culture.

A shameful lack of language skills is serving only to further engender a feeling of humbleness in the face of pleasantness, politeness and friendliness.

Top marks for last night’s meal and again for the remarkable and unassuming service, Pla de la Garsa. Can’t quite understand a part of the menu that listed, Christ’s Fist, The Madonna’s Smile, Judas’s Testicle and Nun’s Farts.

Now listening to Norah Jones on the radio, seems to fit somehow.

So where was the fuggin bus?

First impressions, cool place…

I really ought to have got more done by now, Karin will always be soooo much more organised than me. Hey ho.

A few days should be good as I look out at grey, squirrels and sky, if the sky were as noisy as the squirrels there would be problems.