My last partial day in Madrid turned out to be a beautiful sunny one, though quite chilly; I could see my breath. The time to head to the airport
sped up it seemed and soon I was sitting in Terminal 3 staring out at the wonderful hillsides that surround the flat landing field with the sun showcasing their contours and the occasional plateau-tops.Planes landed or took off every few minutes and sometimes several within a minute, even tail to nose behind one another; all very well choreographed as in most huge city airpor
ts around the world I’m sure, though I’ve never sat and watched and timed them before.It was dark by the time I landed in Barcelona and the brilliant lights sparkled like all of Spain’s crown jewels spread on black velvet. The taxi ride through the city was one of vibrating nightlife.
I found though that I couldn’t quite understand the driver when he spoke. I thought at first he was just speaking with a different kind of cadence or something. Perhaps I was just tired?
Then I met my landlord, and discovered his first language is not Spanish, but Catalan, and now I know that’s what the taxi driver was speaking. It’s similar in many ways to
Spanish, but different in others. I guess I’m now in the Catalan region of Spain, but I’m not sure I have the energy to learn yet another dialect, when I’ll only be here for three days. Already I’m finding that I’m thinking in Spanish and I really have to watch as I’m writing because I’m coming up with some peculiar spellings of words, and sometimes I’m not catching them. When I start dreaming in Spanish, I’ll know I’ve hit overload!Once again I am in the middle of a very large city in the oldest historic part within a few minutes walking distance from the famous La Rambla street, palaces, museums, cathedrals and a multitude of shops, restaurants and tapas bars.
I’ll take a gander at the architecture as it looks different again from Madrid….I suppose it has other influences seeing as how it’s on the coast.
This time, I’m in a room in someone’s apartment, kind of like a bed & breakfast, but without the breakfast. A fellow by the name of Albert Ribas lives here. I have the use of a kitchen again, so can make my
own meals. I will try and have paella again while I’m still in Spain, but mostly try to eat frugally at ‘home.’ This 
apartment is quite modernistic with lots of glass, light woodwork. and sparse furnishings, yet comfortable.My room is very tastefully done, the only drawback that I can see is that the bed is a thin futon and laying on it is like sleeping on a piece of plywood…I do have my own bathroom though, which is quite modern, though the tub is only ¾ in length. Here I don’t have access to any where I’m staying, but will find an Internet Café tomorrow.
I’ve come to the conclusion that technology is fabulous for staying in touch with people these days compared to what it might have been like a century ago when young a person set off from their homeland to immigrate to Canada or some such other place like my grandfather did from England at the age of 19 in 1910. Sometimes families wouldn’t hear for months or even a year or more about how a loved one was doing with letters having to cross an ocean. And phoning would have been an impossibility.
I’ve come to the conclusion that technology is fabulous for staying in touch with people these days compared to what it might have been like a century ago when young a person set off from their homeland to immigrate to Canada or some such other place like my grandfather did from England at the age of 19 in 1910. Sometimes families wouldn’t hear for months or even a year or more about how a loved one was doing with letters having to cross an ocean. And phoning would have been an impossibility.
Having said that though, there are still a great many improvements needed to make our technology more stable. There are still crackly phone lines and regardless of whether I am at home in Canada or in another country abroad, the Internet is still fraught with glitches. Sudden drops, loss of connection, weak connections, no connections, down temporarily, all in the space of one minute, hour, or day can be frustrating to no end. I supposedly had a fabulous free Internet connection in the Madrid airport, but couldn’t do anything with it….
My landlord is a lovely short, thin man, who can speak a little English, enough so 
that we can communicate. There was a woman here that he was playing chess with when I arrived and they have just gone out to dinner (it’s 10 pm), but he never introduced me to her, so I don’t know if she’s a friend or someone who lives here. I was impressed that he knew
that we can communicate. There was a woman here that he was playing chess with when I arrived and they have just gone out to dinner (it’s 10 pm), but he never introduced me to her, so I don’t know if she’s a friend or someone who lives here. I was impressed that he knew I was a writer when I got here….he’d Googled me on the Internet (he has his own private source for his work, but it’s not available for other use.) He has a fabulous collection of music CD’s, shelves of books and he plays the guitar. As well, he has prints of art posters and prints of famous painters like Jackson Pollock on his walls.
Well it's off to bed...wonder what tomorrow will bring.
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