I Leave the Mediterranean Tomorrow -- Barcelona, Spain

I leave the Mediterranean tomorrow. My bus departs from Placa Catalunya at around 07:00. My plane takes off from Terminal 2 at 09:50 and lands in Rotterdam at 12:05.

Maud will meet me at the airport. And she's bringing us a picnic lunch.

I adore my hot dutch friend. She writes me messages like this:

MAUD: Hi Beautiful, maybe the most stupid question ever, but I don't wan to kill you. Can you eat pesto? I assume you won't get lunch in the plane, so I want to prepare lunch for Tuesday.

AIMEE: Girl, I love pesto almost as much as I love peanut butter.

MAUD: And you are flying with Transavia and these f*ckers will never give you food. 

So we'll take our pesto (and a cheese, honey chocolate bar I purchased from the Chocolate Museum in Barcelona) and have ourselves a proper picnic at Het Kralingse Bos.

Which is (according to Maud) a kind of forest with a big lake.  

Just what I need after my weeks of big city madness. 

MAUD: haha, sorry to tell you this, but the park is in the city. But when you're there, you can't tell you you're in the city.

AIMEE: That's great. As long as I don't know I'm in a city.

MAUD: You won't.

AIMEE: I'm an actress. Suspension of disbelief is my forté.

I leave the Mediterranean tomorrow. The climate, the culture, the schedule.

No more waking up at 9:00 and calling it early. No more cappuccino and sweets for breakfast. No more lunch at two and dinner at nine (or ten). No more unbearable heat (or Italians complaining about the heat whilst baking on the beach). No more piss in the streets and garbage overflowing the bins. Probably a significant decrease in thirty-five year old men who live with their mamas (not that this is a bad thing) and traffic will be because people are coming home from work (as opposed to coming home from the beach).

It'll be an interesting transition, going between the Mediterranean and Holland. Mmm.... I like it when transitions are sharp -- it helps me to really feel the difference between the two places. Barcelona to Rotterdam will be sharp. Goodness. And it makes me happy to have someone meet me at the airport. Another thing I dislike (I'm on a roll now) is arriving at an airport in a foreign country and trying to locate buses and borrow phones and the general unpleasantness of getting from the airport to the city center. Having a familiar face to look for is the most comforting feeling.

I'll be looking for this face:

I left Paolo earlier than planned. Like most people I've surfed with, he was generous with his time and kept my belly full of vegetarian goodies. He gave me an impressively comprehensive tour of Barcelona, but...

...but the last few days of my visit were quite uncomfortable for me.

Okay. Couchsurfing. Where can I go from here? 

I felt guilt about leaving (I always do), but I also felt incredibly empowered.

If things get uncomfortable, I do not have to stay. I am not trapped. Yes, he has been kind to me in a lot of ways -- but that doesn't necessarily mean I OWE him. It doesn't mean I'm bound to stay here when I'm unhappy. 

Who's responsible for my happiness? 

ME. And I know I shouldn't be malicious or insensitive... but I think the reasons I'm staying here are a) I feel guilty about hurting his feelings and b) I am afraid of making him angry. Not that he would necessarily get angry... but there would definitely be a negative reaction if I chose to leave prematurely. And I loathe leaving things on a bad note. I hate that bitter taste. 

Should I stay in a situation that makes me unhappy because I'm feeling guilt and fear? 

Umm... probably not. 

Now I'm with Eduard. And girl be happy. Not only because I found a person with whom I have an excellent connection, but because I made the decision to leave something unpleasant and to make myself available for something great. 

EMPOWERMENT. Mmmhmmm. 
 
And tomorrow I'm off to spend a week and a half with Maud. We'll get to see Billie and Julia and and maybe I'll be able to hitch to Antwerp to catch up with Agnes for a day. This is such a great way to conclude my Europe chapter of travel. 

I get to float with friends for a bit.

It'll be good to take a break from staying with strangers. 
 
I leave the Mediterranean tomorrow. I've spent a disproportionate portion of this trip (and my last trip, come to think of it) circling this sea and it feels odd to be leaving. It feels odder still to think that the next two months of my life will be spent in the Rocky Mountains, where sea is a rather scarce commodity and my lungs will have to readjust to the whole 5000 + feet above sea level thing. Salt water, beaches and sea breezes have become a ubiquitous part of my life and I've had to work to not take them for granted.

This is my last evening in Barcelona. I'll amble around one of the less touristic neighborhoods, eat some ham and then spend the evening with Eduard. Our plan is try try some horchata (a local specialty made with tiger nuts), buy some cheapish wine and watch the moon rise over the sea.

Yakamoz.

Moonlight reflected on the water.

This will be my last moon on the Mediterranean for the foreseeable future. 

I'm enjoying a very different sort of sensation. I spend far too much time researching lightweight cameras and Mexican cuisine -- time happily lost in a future that doesn't exist -- but I find myself lost in another sort of future, too. Muddled in with the excitement of what I will learn in Mexico are morsels of delight over what I can share during my two month reset in Colorado. The foods, the stories, the odd bits of trivia. No souvenirs, but loads of photos. No gifts, but hands that give much better massages.

I'm going back with much more to share. Much more to give. I may be scraping the bottom of my bank account, but with all the experiences I've had over the past 15 months... man... you'd have to work REALLY hard to convince me that I'm poor.