Posted by: martinworster | November 8, 2003

6. WINTER TIME AND THE LIVING IS EASY

It’s cheap here. City training via London dwelling and more meaningless words in incoherent sequences under the guise of being sentences…

 Life is very easy here in Barcelona. I guess that’s what the practice of living in London for so many years does for you. Other places seem easy. You realise that a journey across town in / on whatever mode of transport – metro, taxi, foot, bike – shouldn’t take hours, involve near punch ups, choking on fumes and semi-corronary bypasses.

One thing I got really excited about the other day was my local DVD store – it’s 2 Euros per film per night and they have the most amazing collection. Forget Blockbuster UK style with a choice of a hundred copies in each of the five different Hollywood blockbusters of the She’s Got Mail And Has Never Been Kissed III variety. This has quality. Next week I’m not going out and hiring 60 hours worth of quality black and white.

Sorry don’t want to be hard on London. I still love it there and its a great city don’t get my wrong. In my opinion no doubt the capital of Europe if I am allowed to get patriotic. One bad thing here is lame customer service. It sucks (help I’m turning American). Often I walk into stores and I’m totally ignored. I think ‘forgive me for wanting to spend money with your business, the thing that probably puts food on your table and pays your bills’ type thoughts but to little avail. Then again its probably the impatient thing I inherited from years in London, or maybe it’s my own trait.

Girls. There’s plenty of them here. I realise in my last diary I wrote a bit about this which is why I’ve left the spicy bits at the end to check whether anyone actually reads this dross. Something about Barcelona seems to attract beautiful women – they’re all over the gaff. And it’s not just the local Catalan honies. Barcelona is magnet for babes from Denmark, Brazil, England, Sweden, Germany, Holland…I won’t go on. I’ve developed ‘rubber neck syndrome’ which is a well known male condition in Barcelona for which they haven’t found a cure. It happens on the street and thankfully I haven’t yet fallen prey to the ‘walking into lampost as a direct result of rubber neck syndrome’ complaint also common here. 

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