Fantastical, Humanistic Barcelona


Sagrada Familia:

Las Ramblas sideshows:

Christopher Columbus:

He recognized Debbie Harry's voice tumbling out of the open door of the discotheque.  "I'd like to talk when I can show you my attention!" she bawled.  Oliver would not have gone into the disco.  In fact, he probably would not have been admitted wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt.  But no security gyard was going to stop the drunk girl in the sequined midriff halter, short leather skirt and high, high heels who had grabbed him with the strength of a python and dragged him through the door just when he thought he was strolling by with mild curiosity.  There he was in the middle of a crowded room of divas and dons, their features surreal and their motions spasmodic in the flashing colored lights, watching her mouth Blondie into an imaginary microphone.

Now, hours later, she pushed him down on her couch and put headphones on him.  "Escolteu aixo!" she commanded before she disappeared into the bathroom.  The slow romantic song troubled him. 

Pale Moon, Shannon McNally
Did she understand the words?  He'd probably never see her again, but still, he didn't want her getting the wrong idea.  He had not ruled out the possibility of a relationship, but it was pretty unlikely since he didn't know a word of Catalan.  Actually, he had thought everyone in Spain would speak Spanish or something close, but this language did not sound at all like Spanish to him.  He wasn't into breaking hearts, or worse, opening himself up to a stalker.

The song was so long and she wasn't coming out.  Ollie squirmed and stretched his legs to stay awake.  The next song started.

Down and Dirty, Shannon McNally

That was more like it.  He sat up and looked at the closed bathroom door.  Midway through, he pulled off the headphones, stood up, almost fell over, caught his balance and stumbled over to knock on the bathroom door.  No answer.

Parc Guell: