Fiona: Afterwards
If you want to integrate yourself back into society after spending 6 weeks of near solitude in the mountains, don't arrive in Barcelona at 11pm on a Saturday night in the midst of an annual festival. City life in comparison to the mountains can be a bit of a shock to the system, especially in Spain because the Spaniards, jovial as they are, are notoriously loud and also seem to walk incredibly slowly. That may seem like the moanings of someone who has just spent almost two months walking but really, they do walk slower than other people. It's very frustrating. Anyway, I arrived in Barcelona on Saturday evening with little idea where I was going. I had the address of the hostel I had booked into but no internet or map so I resigned myself to the old fashioned method of asking for directions. I'm good at this, not so good at following them as I'm sure the boys will testify. Luckily everyone was very keen to help. Unluckily, I feel a lot of people didn't actually know which direction they were sending me in but couldn't admit that they didn't know. This resulted in a few laps around the block (or maybe just my directional skills again). When I eventually did make it to my hostel, the night was still in full swing with live music blaring from the streets, people dancing, drinking, smoking and peeing in the street. Apparently street peeing is completely normal (if not encouraged) here; I witnessed about 10 people peeing along the street of my hostel alone. The festivities were cheerful and the mood was catching I found myself excited to be part of city life again. The next day I spent walking round the city, soaking in the atmosphere for hours on end. ~ I think I'm having walking withdrawal symptoms. ~ Most of the people I've met out here have accused me of walking too fast everywhere we go, plus there is a certain tranquility that belongs to the mountains which is hard not to miss. It's another chapter finished and has left me with the adventure bug. I'm getting restless already; what to do next?
