I’ve been away. In the closing of a hard year, the ending of my first half century on the planet, I skated away to Europe for a much needed change of scene and perspective. I am wildly fortunate to have been able to go, and go alone, to a place as magical and medieval and rich with culture and foodways as Spain. I went to Spain and Portugal, so I am sharing my travel journals here so that you, dear reader, can enjoy some of it too. I tried to trace the emotional landscape of my journey away from my children and the life I’ve made here. I tried to reconcile the difficulties of daily life in Baltimore with the ease and joy I found in Spain.
I’m separated from my husband now, is part of it. I can only share that things are okay, things are amicable, the kids are doing well. But yeah, that’s the headline for now.
Writing it here feels like a relief. It’s why I’ve had such a long break from writing, because when you’re in the midst of the whirlwind, there’s no way to get enough distance from it to write about it—and if you do write about it, you endanger the progress you are making by living in the moment of change.
But travel is different! On a trip, you’re making observations in real time and reporting on your experiences as you’re having them — not documenting some seismic inner shift. Writing can become a way to metabolize the experience. I’ll post excerpts so you can experience a bit of it with me.
Day 1 Barcelona
Arrived BCN airport an hour late. Flight circled over the city for a while. Couldn’t sleep much. Took photo from the plane.
Airport crowded at noon, got a coffee easily. The Spanish came awkwardly but finally came. I was still worried and unsure how to get a taxi, until I calmed down and saw there are taxis available for everyone. it’s clearly a thriving part fo the tourist industry. I changed out of my hoodie in the bathroom and tried to clean up a little bit, and got euros at the currency exchange which charged me fucking TWELVE PERCENT. At that moment I realized what a rookie mistake I was making — but there were no ATMs!
I stood in a long but fast moving line for a taxi, got one easily, and it cost what it was supposed to cost. I’m used to Baltimore’s Wild West of cars for hire, where rides cost whatever the drivers say they cost. Barcelona, I’m learning, doesn’t assume scarcity.
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