Thursday, December 29, 2005
Barcelona Day 4
I slept longer than I wanted to this morning. Normally, I wouldn´t be bothered but I wanted to sort out a place to stay for tomorrow night. Instead, I decided to take a train to Figueres to visit the Salvador Dali museum. A fantastically bizarre and genius palace of artisitc expression. This may sound pretentious and naive of me, but I think ol´Salvador and I have similar brains. Some of the things he has created are really like what goes on in my mind sometimes, which is kind of disturbing. Anyway, it is a highlight of a Spanish holiday. It is worth sitting on the 2 hour train trip from Barcelona (the train also provides amazing views of the Pyrenees).
And now for a short examination of train trips...
Train trips are fun, sort of. It is an excellent time to people watch, eavesdrop, sleep or stare out of windows for prolonged periods of time thinking of nothing at all. The success of a train trip is very much dependant on who sits next to you and across from you. For example, on my trip to Figueres two girls sat opposite me. Unfortunately, the 6 foot 5 inch girl sat directly in front of me. My whole trip was spent trying not to knock knees. We were both constantly shifting and sharing awkward smirks of apology when we did accidently bump into one anothers knees. Some might think this might sound like a good way to pick up the ldaies. You could not be more wrong. First, they did not speak English. Second, it would just be creepy if I were to intentionally rub knees with her. On the other hand, this may just be me and my damned shy personality showing through. By the end of the trip I was in serious need of stretching my legs. To the casual observer I must have looked like I was going to piss my pants. In fact, I am highly suspicious that this is what the two girls opposite me were saying to eachother in their foreign language. My trip back was not much better. At least on the way there I could stare out the window at the passing scenery of the magnificent Pyrenees (I really must make it up into those hills on my next trip to Spain.) When it is dark, you have three places to look: the ceiling, straight ahead at the other person opposite or across to the other aisle (providing that you have a seat at all!). Two of these options get very boring very quickly and the other option makes you look like a psycho. I spent the first half of the trip standing amongst two families and being flanked by two baby carriages. Train trips can be fun on occassion but, unfortunately, these two were not.
I got back to the hostel and went out for dinner with a guy from the hostel. Had paella and wine. For some reason, you can only order paella if two or more people are having it. I suspect that money has A LOT to do with it.
I booked a place to stay in Zaragoza tomorrow over the phone...I think. I either have two nights booked at a hostel or a threesome booked with a Spanish whore. Either way, tomorrow should be fun.
And now for a short examination of train trips...
Train trips are fun, sort of. It is an excellent time to people watch, eavesdrop, sleep or stare out of windows for prolonged periods of time thinking of nothing at all. The success of a train trip is very much dependant on who sits next to you and across from you. For example, on my trip to Figueres two girls sat opposite me. Unfortunately, the 6 foot 5 inch girl sat directly in front of me. My whole trip was spent trying not to knock knees. We were both constantly shifting and sharing awkward smirks of apology when we did accidently bump into one anothers knees. Some might think this might sound like a good way to pick up the ldaies. You could not be more wrong. First, they did not speak English. Second, it would just be creepy if I were to intentionally rub knees with her. On the other hand, this may just be me and my damned shy personality showing through. By the end of the trip I was in serious need of stretching my legs. To the casual observer I must have looked like I was going to piss my pants. In fact, I am highly suspicious that this is what the two girls opposite me were saying to eachother in their foreign language. My trip back was not much better. At least on the way there I could stare out the window at the passing scenery of the magnificent Pyrenees (I really must make it up into those hills on my next trip to Spain.) When it is dark, you have three places to look: the ceiling, straight ahead at the other person opposite or across to the other aisle (providing that you have a seat at all!). Two of these options get very boring very quickly and the other option makes you look like a psycho. I spent the first half of the trip standing amongst two families and being flanked by two baby carriages. Train trips can be fun on occassion but, unfortunately, these two were not.
I got back to the hostel and went out for dinner with a guy from the hostel. Had paella and wine. For some reason, you can only order paella if two or more people are having it. I suspect that money has A LOT to do with it.
I booked a place to stay in Zaragoza tomorrow over the phone...I think. I either have two nights booked at a hostel or a threesome booked with a Spanish whore. Either way, tomorrow should be fun.
// posted by Mr. Muir @ 9:55 p.m. 
