Lisbon with Love

Arriving at the bus station I switch to the Metro for my ride to meet Kuba. Over an hour riding trains through rabbit holes I finally pop out in Oriente where Kuba is waiting.

Stepping inside his home its wonderful to again have a roof over my head. I Breath out with relief as I realise my freedom. Freedom to leave my bag without worrying that it might be stolen. Freedom to lye on flat dry ground and freedom to sleep in without worry of an early unexpected visitor.

Waking late the temperature outside is climbing well into the 30's - today will be a scorcher. I feel sooo lazy! I could blame the heat, but really travel has worn me down and now in the comfort of a house where I can sit in one spot without a waiter glaring I take full advantage.

Guilt setting in I muster just enough energy for a quick dash out into the haze towards the local supermarket: Pingo Doce. Returning home arms full of fruit and a tub of rapidly melting ice cream I express my way to the kitchen. Commandeering the blender on entry its only minutes later that we're all slurping on ice cold banana smoothies - Yummmm!

---

Tonight we mix it up with the CS crew @ the Veggie meet-up. Arriving on time we look around - but there's no sign of anyone! we guess everyone will arrive at 'Portuguesse time'...

Sitting hypnotised by the exploding fountain opposite we wait until finally another CS member pops out from behind a tree. Yippee - then there were three!

As others arrive we pile inside to the feast that awaits. Spread across several tables is an array of smells, colours and flavours. Crisp vegetables, delicious tastes and textures and weird fruit/veg combinations - Yes you can eat Kiwi with beetroot! :)

So good I could turn Vegitarian.

---

Scribbling 'Free Hugs' on the back of a poster Kuba and I quickly gather our belongings, and run for the door.

'7 minutes' Kuba yells. Its gonna be close - poster in hand we sprint towards the train station, over the bridge and down across the tracks. Panting as we stumble onto the platform we're just in time for the approaching train.

Arriving at the 'Free hug' metro station we look around for other huggers. The street is empty. Wrong station? No - still nobody. And then, a Hugger! Two, Three... A group! Let the fun begin!

But first the concept: Simple - hug a complete stranger... after all everyone needs a hug.

So how were the hugs? Fantastic! OK - so some were better than others.

Fun? Judge for yourself...

Young and Old:



Duo, Trio, Groupie:


Everyone needs a hug:





and even the Police couldn't escape us:

Goodbye Spain hello Portugal

Meeting back up with Fred and Ania we enjoy 2 last days together before splitting to continue on our own separate paths.

As we approach the Spain/Portugal border Ania fidgets with excitement. So many months spent in Portugal writing her Polish guide that now it holds a special place in her heart. Fred teases her, building upon her excitement but as I look over to him I see he too is very happy to be 'coming home'.

Passing over the border we climb and stop at the hill's crest for a quick celebratory drink. Slipping into old habits I foolishly thank the waiter in Spanish to which Ania issues a warning reminding me of the rough history between the two countries. I return to the van repeating "Obrigado, Obrigado, Obrigado..."

---

Tonight is our last night together so we decide to splash out with a visit to the local restaurant. Inspecting the menu Fred recommends a steak listed for 17 euros telling me the portion is for two and the meat amazing. Feeling hungry I ponder if I could eat the portion myself :)

Arriving the steak is indeed HUGE but its Ania's meal that I cant keep my eyes off. Rising high out of its boat shaped bowl I wonder how on earth the poor girl will fit it all in. The waiter just smiles and with a big grin tells us we must finish EVERYTHING.

---

Farewells are overrated and saying goodbye sucks!

Removing my belongings from the truck everything piles up and soon I realise I have way too much. Hanging bags from each shoulder the weight pushes me into the ground seemingly preventing me from leaving. But farewells must proceed and so with a good strong hug from Fred and Ania and a goodbye pat for Guzik - who is oblivious - they return to the van and pull away.

My heart sinks. They're gone, and I'm alone.

Ourense - thermal spring kingdom

Settling back into the CS lifestyle I'm privileged to stay with Adam - a cool polish guy and also a recent recruit to the European Volunteering Service. He lives here in Ourense with 3 others in a shared EVS household. The house - provided free - rather more resembles a scrap book than a house, with dozens of Spanish name tags slapped across item all over the house.

---

In the evening we all venture down to the local thermal springs. The closest of 5 just a short walk down to the river.

Moving from the warm spring to the hot my Sunburn begins to ache, I bite my lip, thinking: its not that bad! True enough it wasn't that bad compared to the pain and high pitched screams that followed when we jump into the icy cold river.

I would call it torture but for the fact that after repeating about 3 times it actually became refreshing and pleasant.

---

Continuing tradition the boys head out with buckets in hand to pick blackberries from along the river. I join them, and an hour later we have amassed an impressive collection. Not quite finished with our free pickings we explore further finding a pear tree to add to our spoils.

Returning home we wash the fruit before adding an unmentionable amount of sugar and cooking - we're making jam. One sticky finger dip later its declared ready to bottle. As we pour I think to myself - why bother bottling, its going to be eaten within a week anyway :)

---

Crossing the river we enter into the old town were Adam promises to guide us through the Ourense top 5 highlights. Stopping at a favourite pub we enjoy a quick drink in the ocean themed surroundings before continuing. Next Eva takes the lead directing us to a heavy metal bar. Inside our tattoo-less bodies provide a contrast to the locals and I can't help but feel a little out of place.

Approaching the bar Eva asks if they can play something a little 'lighter'. The barmen laughs but obliges. Turning I observe two locals playing electronic darts. Taking turns they shoot, remove their darts then press the 'next go' button. Everything appears normal until I realise they actually haven't put any money into the machine, and it's still running in demo mode and yet after each turn: "next go"...

Moving to our final pub I'm told I must try a Licor Cafe. Agreeing I take the small cup of black thick liquid and proceed upstairs. On the way up I stumble spilling a little over the cups edge and down to drip deep heavy stains onto the wooden floor - oops! Safely seated and bib in place I make a move to drink the liqor but I cant, it's stuck to the table! The refined 'engine grease' is so sweet that it takes some effort to dislodge and once swallowed sits heavy in the neck. A good experience? well yes - its worth a try if you dare.

North Spain - a misty memory

Northern Spain whizzed by so fast. One moment Barcelona the next Ourense.

Somewhere in the middle there were a few moments:

---

After catching a night bus from Barcelona I arrive to a cold wet morning in Bilbao. To brighten my spirits I hunt down the nearest Cafe. Entering I'm confronted by a large room that looks more like a bar with stools. Here 4 men run a strict service. As you place your order the coffee is already brewing, and as you receive your change in one hand your fresh coffee is pushed into the other. Such speed and efficiency I'm wide-eyed in amazement.

The regular clientele stand at the bar, knocking back espressos before sliding a euro across the bar, picking up their hats, exchanging a muffled leaving word and escaping out the door.

Severely lacking in any sign of 'feminine homeliness' the bar could seem cold, but you gotta give it to the boys - they've got speedy service down to a fine art.

---

Meeting up once more with Fred, Ania and Guzik we're again on the road with the 'go anywhere' camper van. searching for a spot to camp we get an opportunity to stretch its legs. Engaging 4 wheel drive we battle some of the toughest slopes, leading up into the mountains. The unstoppable beast climbs at a steady pace before coming to a rumbling stop in a perfect glowing golden field. Tonight we will sleep well :)

Eventually though our adventures across the north come to an end, and sounding like a familiar tune, we say our goodbyes. My destination: Ourense.

Barcelona: Sweet and Sour

Hopping on the train I get my first scare in Spain. As the doors close I hear Be-wa-ep Be-wa-ep Be-wa-ep. Sounding like an emergency evacuation siren the 'warning - doors closing' sound is a slight overkill!

The train drops me in Pl. Catalunya and as I look around I recall the nightmare of the previous night. Everything seems so peaceful now.

Walking La Rambla I find buskers/human statues lined up one after another. Watching, I observe each act, some very clever while others primitive. One guy - dressed as smeagol from Lord of the Rings - has a great costume and makeup but puts zero effort into his people interactions. As a small group mill around waiting for 'the punch line' one tourist takes out his phone to snap a few photos. Instantly smeagol drops his act and shouts:

"No photo! give Moooneeeey, got it!"

The knife edge of Tourism.

---

Without a doubt Goudi work takes first prize for Barcelona's architecture. Visiting Sagrada Familia I cant help but marvel at the fine detailed work. You can gaze for hours at each sculpture - its no wonder that its been over 100 yrs in construction and still not complete! :)

As I Walk all sides of the building I see the queue for entry winding its way around the corner and down the street - an endless queue of hot frustrated tourists. As I try to pass by the crowd a woman in front of me screams at her child:

Look at how long this queue is!

You should have got out of bed when I told you!

- Long Sigh -

We're going to be standing here for hours because of you!

In my mind, a cartoon image of God suddenly appears - popping out of a fluffy white cloud and bopping the woman on the head: "Bad parent!"

---

From Goudi's House in Park Guell I see a white balcony jutting out, with long elegant concrete columns beneath. People relax beneath in shaded comfort while others on top sweat like I in the scorching midday sun. Heading for the shade I'm caught in a maze of paths, none of which seem to lead me any closer to my destination. Persisting I strike lucky "two steps forward, one step back" style, and arrive under the great canopy.

Two musicians play classics, and I cant help but sit and listen, mesmerised by the ambiance that surrounds me. Pausing for a break I decide that any group holding my attention this long deserves my support, and on that note I buy their CD.

---

The 'magic fountain'

As 9pm draws closer the crowd swells; each row of steps filling with people. As the clock strikes 9 a jet of water shoots up to lick the clouds before falling hard to the pond below. More follow and as the pond fills it cascades over and down channels to the next fountain. Bubbling into life we witness a similar display with excess water flowing closer and closer to the master 'magic fountain'.

A silence falls upon the crowd - surely the time is now. Then whoosh, the magic fountain explodes with life shooting long jets of water high into the air. Blasting from large speakers music accompanies the dancing water.

To the sound of Bocelli's booming voice a fine mist rises high above us then falls sharply as his voice breaks off.

From a distance the fountain is visibly appealing, but up close upon its outer edge the experience is thrilling. You can not simply watch - you become part of the experience. You can feel the fountains power, and as the children are drawn in closer you too step forward.

Now only metres from the fountain staring at its beauty we marvel as the water rises before -with shocked faces - the mist falls and everyone turns to run. The screams of those not fast enough catch up to us, before we too are showered. Looking around, people pull at their damp t-shirts, laugh and comment while clutching at their fast beating hearts.

Photos from Barcelona!