Not A Postcard From Barcelona

Hola from Barcelona.

What should have been a short trip went a bit epic. Our flight was delayed by an hour and what should have been a short 40 minute flight stretched big time. Also, I booked us into a place slightly out of the city centre and after negotiating the metro system... we left the hotel in Ibiza at 5pm and didn't check in until 11pm. Still, we did well and were in good spirits. Found a local tapas bar around midnight and tucked into some ok food and a good bottle of Crianza Rioja. I haven't read up on Spanish wine so I'm not sure what that is exactly, but I think Rioja is the region and Crianza is the grape varity. It was nice, recommended by the waiter who seemed to like us and all was good in the world.

I really enjoyed my last day in Ibiza. I like the place a lot. I think like Byron Bay in Australia, the place itself has a magic about it that has been largely engulfed by modern times and tourisn. Like Byron, you need to have x-ray vision to see the initial attraction that started drawing people to it. I suspect that most of the superficial people who flock to these places on short stays to party don't have this x-ray vision. I can't explain it. And as with Byron, I wish I could have experienced it earlier in time. Don't get me wrong, I like the partying, but it's like the place itself has something. A vibe. A quiet voice that... oh just laugh now at my hippie shit mumbo jumbo. I know what I'm talking about.

So yeah, proper sad to leave. Haven't felt that way about leaving a place since I left Melbourne last time. That was pretty intense, as you'd hope given that The Dreaded One and I have decided to leave Sydney and move to Melbourne.

We had lunch with a good friend who introduced us to other friends. As with doofer friends we've spent time talking to away from the party vibe, it's just kind of reassuring to realise there is quality there and that you have other stuff in common and that there is proper friendship there, I talked at length about how much I'd love to get the job at Dumbo Feather, told him about my conversation about psytrance with Warren Ellis from Nick Cave's Bad Seeds, we talked about music, he told me (this is my friend Ben, not Warren Ellis) about dipping prawns in concrete and making a chess set, and it was exactly the kind of intelligent and silly conversation I enjoy.

Another Ibiza moment that has come back to me a couple of times is dancing in a bit of a private area of Space. We had special wrist bands that allowed us into a next-to-the-DJ area fenced off from the crowd, which was fun if a little strange given that a couple of new friends said hello and chatted from the other side of the fence.

But there was this woman who kept looking over. I'm normally more than happy to not talk to randoms. If the music is good (Groove Armada were doing a DJ set and they were pretty good and close enough that I could have given them a wet willy if I was in a Bart Simpson mood) I'll dance with my eyes closed and keep pretty much to myself. But she kept glancing over and eventually I thought ok, go on then, and I made eye contact. She smiled. I smiled. Then she came over and asked me in a thick accent, "Did you go to the Boom festival?"

I dont know whether it was the clothes I was wearing or the way I was dancing or whether, as Ann thinks, she actually saw me there, but she recognised something, and it was nice. More than 25,000 peple were at Boom and he we were, two strangers in another place sharing smiles about a remembered party. It was a lovely moment.

This not a postcard from Barcelona. We arrived too late and have not done anything here yet. We intend to go to Parque Guell and Sagrada Famila and shop a bit. I remember the clothes here being pretty good. So when we've Barcelona'd ourselves a bit more, I'll send you a postcard.

Am happy right now. Am blessed with some pretty cool people in my life and am fortunate to be doing cool things. Thank you, Universe. You can be harsh, but you can be pretty cool too.