Thirty Thousand Streets

Monday, July 23, 2007


I'm in Barcelona.

I got here around half nine yesterday, after a three o'clock start (I had to catch a train from Liverpool Street at half four).

Jamie Oliver was mooching round the departure lounge at Stanstead Airport, with posse in tow. No idea where he was going, but it looked family orientated.

Spain seemed depressingly overcast when I touched down,and at first I feared I'd brought the weather with me, but today it's blue skies with the odd cloud in the distance.

I'm typing this on Dunc's laptop, having just sat out on his balcony reading a couple of Michael Moorcock articles in a battered paperback for an hour or so. I might go to the beach shortly. I could really go for a coffee as well.

Still feeling puffy-eyed and generally quite sleepy. Don't intend to do a
huge deal this holiday other than read, lie about, eat, drink, and swim. And take some photographs.


Ade said...

I take it you got my text message then. Have fun in Barca, and say Hi to The Monk for me.

mountainear said...

Lucky, lucky you. Most envious. Still raining here.

Zeno Cosini said...

It's still raining here. The headline in the evening standard yesterday was:

Thames Floods - Prepare to Flee

I'm not kidding. The rivers have joined up and London is subsiding into a tepid brown sea.