Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

16 10 2013
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

I’m in Barcelona now.

You know, I wouldn’t necessarily have guessed that I’d be one of the constantly wandering (the Wan-der-lust).

In fact, I wouldn’t have guessed it at all. I didn’t know any nomads growing up. Travel itself was normalized through parents hauling my impressionable young self on a variety of international adventure (see: Belize! Salt Cay! Bahamas! Puerto Peñasco! … okay, so we take our trips with a grain or two of powdery sand), but actively expatriating never occurred to me as an option.

Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

Thailand was a lark – a tantalizing, beautiful bird of prey – and Madrid was a given, in ways. Barcelona has been an active decision. Argentina was on the table, San Francisco and México well within the realm of possibility…

But I’ve followed through, found a legit means of making a living. It eats up my weekdays, but I devour it right back – the skills are complex and require constant adaptation and learning, and I find my own rhythm within multilingualism. I produce at my own pace, which turns out to be madcap.

Noche Novata en la Barceloneta
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

And I live alone, for the first time ever. The legit jobbery gives me means to support a kitchen populated solely by my own crumbs and science projects (currently curing my own olives). I bought an oven! Stashed the extraneous microwave away in a cupboard. I take off my pants as soon as I get home. I killed a roach that I found late at night. I go to sleep alone and I wake up alone.

There’s a wobbly something to spending so much alone time, like you might be teetering on the edge of becoming A Crazy Person. Is it acceptable to sup on hardboiled eggs and roasted eggplant? What about watching only five minutes of a movie at a time? Can I play the same song fifteen times in a row? And do push-ups whenever it occurs to me that I oughta?

Noche Novata en la Barceloneta
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

There’s also something incredibly stable. I needed a mug for work (I accidentally *stole* the mug of another the second day! I didn’t realize that they pertained to specific people and just took one at random from the cabinet. I was rapidly informed: the Dunkin Donuts mug has a rightful owner). I found a heap of “I ♥ GIRLS” and “I ♥ BOYS” mugs in a Tiger store in Born, but they just didn’t sit well – until I spied an “I ♥ ME” variation hidden at the bottom. Perfect.

And that’s just it. Every single decision I take is wholly mine, from inception to consequence. I don’t feel spiraling out of control (BKK) or under organizational wing (MAD). I move of my own account. I need this. I didn’t realize just how strongly until I had it, here, in BCN.

Noche Novata en la Barceloneta
Noche Novata en la Barceloneta Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

I did a night walkabout a few days back, snapped characteristic yellow portraits of my new barrio. It’s key to do this early, while everything is fresh, while elements still come together in ways that innovate and surprise.

I live in la Barceloneta, the old fishermen’s barrio. I read a marvelous article about why it will never be cool (in Spanish). Folks yelling messages up to balconies, everyone’s laundry hung out to dry in the sun. The pisos are minuscule, y sin ascensor – well-nigh impossible to gentrify.

Noche Novata en la Barceloneta

The sea is two minutes from my door.

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Asturias: In the Midst of Urchins

4 02 2013

Thighs on Christmas

I’d wanted to hit Asturias ever since my first year in Madrid, when their tourism board ran a months-long campaign in the Sol metro that I had to pass through each weekday on my way north. The 2012 December puente brought the time, the cash, the company. Behold: Oviedo calves at Christmastime.

Façade
HelloGray Sky Shapes 1

The Asturian capital is stately and gray under December skies.

Storefront Sausage FantasiesFonts on Christmas

The area is known for taking delight in gastronomic excess; embutidos, quesos, and sidra abound.
Mordor

No car at my disposal this time around, so mountains and surrounding expansive country must wait.

Puerto de Gijón
Oricios!No More Oricios

Coastal Gijón is easily accessible by bus, and brought the promise of eating odd bits from the sea. If the last bus back had left just a moment later, I might have fit in a third plate of oricios.

For the curious: they’re briny, the velvet of the bright orange roe interrupted here and there by a stray gritty crunch from the spines. They remind me of how one’s lips taste after an hour spent diving. Lovely, and wonderful in canned form as well.





Berlin: die Nacht

22 09 2011

First you need Club-Mate, sugared caffeinated half-liter tea-bomb. You will be on your game.

Then you hit up a kiosk again for beers and balls. On second thought, scratch the balls. On second second thought…

Tote said beers plus barbeque fixings to awaiting park party. Marvel at decency of Hefeweissen/banana juice combo. Proceed to play with fire, then enjoy the meaty fruits of your labor. Wish you had perfected the art of portable hot sauce by now.

Allow evening to slide into night.

Strut into exclusive art party held in what appears to your night vision to be a warehouse in the forest. When confronted as to whether you are on the list, gesticulate exasperatedly and grandly declare yourself to be with the person in front of you (as though that weren’t obvious). Take subsequent advantage of open bar.

Escape into nearby park to indulge in ghostly moonlit highjinks.

Wind down in Some Bar Somewhere. Let night’s apparitions seep their way into the smoke.





Bidegorri de Oiartzun

14 08 2011

Sunny afternoon stroll along the Bidegorri of Oiartzun.

Old tunnels left by old mines.

Resonant statue atop a mountain’s ledge.

Summoning the handflute gods.

CLOK-clok-clok-clok-clok





Talkin’ ’bout the Weather – fotopost

19 03 2011

March, she is a fickle beast.





Street Art/Vandalism, Take Two

22 02 2011

Previous urban decoration documentation.

This –

– is where –

– I live.





Winter Break: Lost Photos Edition

16 02 2011

The famous white walls of Córdoba.

Lovely, and Typical.

Gambones, munched shell-and-all on the shore of el río Guadalquivir.

Contemplating eternity in the head of a fishie.

crunch crunch crunch

Oh
I love
the little bitty fishies

Partridge foie.

Late night spot of tea in Granada.

On the winding climb to La Alambra.

Also on the climb to La Alambra.

Flowers everywhere.

The way into heaven.