After a long and tiring morning session I half packed my stuff [when brain is off, it’s hard to focus and put everything you need in that small backpack which soon will need a replacement] and went towards the metro, later airport, then self-check-in machine and before I knew it, I was there, waiting for my plane to take off.
It was cloudy, it was cold, I felt miserable but I was going to Barcelona, so I figured, I have to collect all that I have in my head and at least try and have a good time there. And so it started.
Once landed I had a little trouble finding the train station [my husband only mentioned – take the train, what he failed to mention was that I will need to take a shuttle (or maybe that is just my own problem) first]. At the end it all worked out, I found myself still with Murakami in my hands and moving slowly towards the city. As adorable as sometimes he can be, Harry came to pick me up with his scooter and soon enough we were at his place. Since he was after work and I was simply exhausted, we just had a little wine, a little dinner, talked a little, tried to catch up and share what is happening in our life and went to sleep.
The next day he went to work and I went to explore the city. I was not sure where to begin with, so I decided to take it slow and start from the center or the Gothic city, as it is named in the map I borrowed. I visited cathedral, walk in some of those endless narrow, but amazingly cozy and nice streets, walked to the beach line, walked around the palm trees and enjoyed the sun and Murakami [of course].
I am usually very good with being just with myself. This time it was an exception, though]. My mind was running like a hamster in the cage, I was trying to figure out what to do and how to get out from the mess I got myself into. I really did not want to be with myself. My mind and my thoughts were scaring me. I needed someone to take it off of me.
I experienced a few `hey, how you doing?` and `hey, can you give me a cigarette?` or `excuse me, lady, be careful, keep an eye on your belongings` and so on while I was sitting there completely lost myself in Murakami, but it wasn’t as bad as you sometimes might expect in a touristy places.
I finally got a message from Eglė that she was done with her exam and that we can meet up. Once we met [it’s been two years and a half after all] it was a little strange to see her again and to speak to her face to face, not those endless e-mails that we have been writing to each other. We went to some cozy little place, we had a beer and some food and then talked talked talked..
We switched to another cozy nice bar, had a little more beer and then made plans to meet up with Harry and Rytis. Once there, we spent some time together catching up and laughing at internet jokes or just sharing the experiences. A little into the night Eglė went home, since she was tired and had to study the day after. I was tempted to go home too, but that was not what Rytis or Harry had in mind. They took me to some place called `Chopitos`. Apparently it is pretty popular thing in Spain – shots bar. You go there, they have a lot of different shots [some of them are being put on fire, some have weird names and even more weird things in them]. Long story short – we had 8 shots each plus a special one I will skip explaining what was it for me and the night was finally officially over. Harry took me home and all I wanted was to put my head down and just dive into the world of dreams. Which is exactly I did.
The next day was my moving day. I woke up in the morning and without wanting to wake anyone up, put my things in my bag, closed the doors behind me and went to meet up with Rytis. We were supposed to go to Tibidabo. It’s a little hill probably you can say a little outside Barcelona with a church on top of it and great view towards the city from it.
Two metros, funicular and a short walk later we were in the place. After that we stopped for a little coffee and some rest. Then we went into the place with best `patatas bravas`in the whole Barcelona [they actually were REALLY good] and finally ended up walking back to the city to Eglė‘s place. It was a really long walk so we got there pretty tired, Eglė fed us as a perfect host and then Rytis left, we stayed just the two of us. Since tiredness was kicking both of us to the sides and she still needed to study, we decided to call it a night where she read her stuff, I read mine and at the end we shared a beer in bed.
The next day I did a lot of touristy stuff. I went to the park of Guell [still not sure how you spell or pronounce it], walked there, went to the same panoramic view point where 9 years ago we were sitting and enjoying the beauty of Barcelona. I also went to the park of labyrinth [which reminds me I have to watch movie Perfume]. While sitting there I could not make up my mind where to go next so I ended up going to that big building which is now known as museum of art. I walked up, took a few pictures, walked around it, found a little botanic garden and took a glimpse to the olympic stadium and before I knew it the sun was going down, it was getting cold, I was getting tired and I just wanted to cuddle in the covers.
That moment, when you are not sure if you want to smile or to cry. You most probably look like a complete idiot, because smile get this cracked shape and tears most definitely are not helping for the overall picture, but you just cannot help yourself. That little thing that is giving you hope and another chance to be with yourself in peace, again. That moment when you allow yourself to believe that maybe it‘s not lost just yet. Maybe there is hope. If hard working is included, only, of course. Still.
Once back at Eglė‘s place once again, we ate, we read, we shared a beer and we enjoyed our endless conversations about everything.
On the Big B day of mine [which I still do not entirely consider to be very big] I went for the same Art museum, then olympic stadium and then to the castle. It was a nice little trek for going up, then the sun was just right for me to sit outside and enjoy reading my book. Once in the castle, which is not that spectacular, but has lovely view to the city, I once again, shot a few pictures and ended up my day in the beach.
Once back at Eglė‘s place I learned that she still needed to study and revise [exam was the next day] and preffered to stay in. I met my husband then for my `birthday` celebration. We had, what he called, the best burgers in the city. Then we went for a beer in some bar that was closed. So we looked for another one which was also closed [on Mondays people don‘t drink in Barcelona apparently]. So after a long walk and searches we managed to find a place, got a beer and talked till the beer was finished. Once he gave me a lift home we shared one klara [beer with fanta] with Eglė and went to bed. B in B was officially over.
On my last day in Barcelona I went to school with Eglė, then after her exam we went `shopping`, then it was time for beach and after that, once we felt a little hungry, we went to the place which name I won‘t be able to tell, but they call it `champaneria`. We we went there, got a sandwich each and a bottle of pink [yes yes, pink] sparkling wine and enjoyed it all really very much.
Slightly tired and a little dizzy from the wine we just chilled in the park. It was all very great before two `friends` came to join us. We created some fake identifications and stories and ran away from them. Then, after wondering around the neighborhood we stopped for coffee and beer and after that went home.
After a little chilled time at home we went out. Not too far, just across the Sagrada Familia we found a little cosy place that had beer and then ended up in an Irish pub [I was just actually hoping for hoegaarden which they didn‘t have] and before even midnight we hit the pillows.
The next day was just as always: I woke up, packed my stuff and left. My great time in Barcelona was over, it was time to be a big girl, face the reality and get back to my own life and my own screwed up things in Copenhagen.
I did not know what to think or what to expect. I was afraid to expect too much, but I just did not want to allow myself negative thoughts. Surviving my own mistakes is one thing, but trying to live with what my mistakes are causing for people that I care, is just so much harder.
It was better than I imagined. There is still a long way to go, of course, but the light at the end of the tunnell was turned on. And now we can get back to that old Casino at the end of the world, sit down at the poker table and place that highest bet.
I still don‘t know if I am making one of the best decisions in my life or the worst. Without taking a risk I will never know what outcome will take place.
And back in Copenhagen the life was almost as usual. I was working in both of my places, I was meeting my friends, I was having nice conversations and listened to a lot of good music.
It‘s almost as if nothing have changed. Almost.
Not sure why I remembered that song that took me back to South America. Chile, to be exact. It took me almost 19 hours to remember the name of the song and how to look it up.
It was a good night. A mistake, of course, but a mistake, that always makes you smile when you remember.