You know that feeling when you step off the aeroplane in a foreign country; you don't know the language, every street is a new one and you don't recognise a face. Yet you feel just at home as you do in your own neighbourhood - maybe even more. This was it and it was fab to know it again.
I visited Barcelona, my first time in Spain, a few weeks back and I fell in love. With the language (this seems to be a common occurrence), the people, the culture, the warmth, the happiness. And of course the Sangria. Next has got to be the Spanish countryside!
We drank ourselves silly on Sangria thanks to a low budget, empty belly's and expensive paella. Floated in the ocean. Biked along the beach. Basked in the sun. Met Australians. And Spanish. And walked the length of the city barefoot. It was the closest I had felt to home in over a year and it taught me that I have a secret love for summer.
Thanks Barcelona. I like you.
A native man sang in a foreign tongue, I still ache to know the song that he sung, in Barcelona. (Thanks, George - Barcelona)
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