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Getting older in Barcelona.

The noise of traffic just outside our window was so much louder than usual, a steady, slick pulse over the rasp of the rain. The cheery light of my phone reminded me of the date, which reminded me that I wasn’t in Edinburgh anymore at all. And then I remembered the night before, and the day before that, and the year before that, and it all got to be too much so I turned over and dozed off on the morning of my birthday in Barcelona.

The day before my birthday, I worked myself up over packing. We flew a budget airline that is notorious for its stringent carry-on baggage policies, and I had running gear and a camera to manage. In the end, I decided the camera was more important. We’ll be doing a fair bit of walking, and I’d be sad if I returned to Barcelona without a proper camera. I shoved everything into my laptop backpack (sans laptop) and that was that.

The flight was painless, and even on a mostly-full flight we were lucky enough to get a row to ourselves. Before long we were landing, through customs, on the shuttle, and navigating La Rambla on our way to our rental flat.

There was a bit of a snag with that, but our host accommodated us at his B&B in L’Eixample. With a view of the spires of La Sagrada Familia from the balcony. I’m not complaining.


This bed ate all of our sleep.


I am writing this in the breakfast nook, and this is my view.


And I have cheery budgies keeping me company as I finish my tea before today’s adventures.


There is also a Yorkie, but he bounds around too fast for me to capture him in a photo.

Last night we had our first tapas together. FunkyPlaid took lots of snaps, but I was too blissed-out to bother. As the clock turned midnight, we toasted with wine (so much wine) and felt deeply grateful for the opportunity to be in such a special place. Now to go explore it!

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