On Saturday I wake up early and go to the park. It's barely 5 minutes' walk from my door but feels like a different Barcelona. No cars, only birds, the pine trees and the amazing views down towards the city and the sea for company. I watch the sun coming up, shimmering on the water. It's cold this morning, and the light is hazy and wintery.
Today I have hibernated, writing reports and making tea with my new teapot. Late afternoon I put on coat, hat and scarf and walk briskly down the hill to meet a friend at a café. While I wait for her by the metro station I watch people side-stepping to avoid a Latin American man reading loudly from a bible. He approaches a group of teenagers, waving his arm, until they mutter at him and stalk off in the opposite direction.
Back at home me and my flatmate share the leftover wine she brought back from France, and talk about the attractiveness of various Spanish newsreaders and weathermen.
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