Festes de Gracia

By mid-afternoon I was convinced today was a bust. I was tired. I’ve been tired. I didn’t want to walk around and see Barcelona. It was just a lot of people. A lot of tourists. A lot of shit. So I read. But I was too tired to really read. I had heard about a bookstore that sold used, English books. I found it, but I found it closed. Then I noticed all these people lined up on a nearby street, like they were waiting for a parade.

Vignette One

(Conducted in Spanish)

Old Lady: You’re not from here!

Me: What? Slower.

Old Lady: You. Are. Not. From. Here. 

Me: Why?

(Old Lady mumbles and gestures wildly to my hat — which read “Alaska” — and my camera and my apparently non-Catalan clothing.

Me: Okay, haha. 

Old Lady: Where are you from?

Me: America.

Old Lady: Oh. (laughter)

Oh wait. Then this happened. If you don’t understand what is happening, neither did I. Welcome to being lost abroad .


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