Barthelona!

(yes, that is how you pronounce it, Catalonyan style)

Oh my living holy heck. Let me untie my tongue before I begin. I don't know how I can express even a nano particle of the awesomeness I've seen in the brief time I've been here. I arrived in the afternoon terribly exhausted, and am grateful for the instincts that led me to ask how to get into Barcelona, since there was a cheaper way. The velo-bus to Plaça Catalunya, then short cab ride. It is more than astounding when an old Catalan-speaking cab driver (with no GPS, solamente a small dog-eared atlas of maps) wends through a little rabbit warren of cobblestone streets, and actually finds the place, depositing me in front of a dark unmarked building. The unobtrusive buzzer to the side of the 12 ft high gray metal door of Hostal Sol y K generated Maria's voice trilling through the little speaker, "hola, Kay!" as she buzzed me in. And blessed be... an elevator! After a brief lay-of-the-land, I showered and went straight to bed. Ahhhhhh... the sheets are perfumed. I am not kidding, I must import a gallon of their detergent home. I awoke at 4 a.m. on my clock, 11 p.m. on local devices. The sounds and smells of bustling street life wafted through the wooden shutters. Time to go out.

Well. Apparently I have stepped through the looking glass to paradise. Above you will see (pic) my first tapas meal: a courgette omelet, in honor of 4 a.m., and a sangria to toast the 11pm nightlife that was abundant everywhere. This. Is. Crazy. Fabulous. Walking through the maze of Barri Gòtic, which I've plunked down in the middle of, is magical. People are out and engaged with each other in hoards of coolness. The shoes, the clothes, the glasses, the hair, the restaurants spilling onto sidewalks. Streets lined with shuttered shops, but a Tapas bar or club every 15 steps or so. Harlem Jazz Club around the corner. The Temple Bar a few streets further (didn't Hemingway hang out there?) And Placa Riale!!! And then La Rambla, stretching for what may be miles in either direction, to the sea and to the hills.

It appears to be something like 8 a.m. now as I type. Perhaps someone is out at the desk now who can tell me how to get wi-fi'd up so I can post this.

I could not possibly feel any more ecstatic to be here.