The season is finally starting to change in Barcelona.
I will go anywhere, as long as it's moving forward. Or as the British might say, onwards and upwards!
This week has been pretty busy again, starting with another intercambio night. I blame our generosity for the lack of Spanish spoken this week, as the novelty native speakers we need to oblige and speak some English! I'm ironically getting to know most of the Irish bars in the city trying to watch different football games. Speaking and teaching English with the family also means I sometimes feel like I'm learning more about my own language than Spanish as I try and explain another illogical grammar point to the mum. This will cue the inevitable- 'impossible!' 'incredible!'- her favourite typically dramatic adjectives. The grandma has jumped on the bandwagon and wants to do a language exchange with English lessons that follow on from a TV program she watches to focus on pronounciation. We had an entertaining Spanish lesson with her insisting I am too monotone when I speak in Spanish and somehow snowballed to her teaching me swear words and generally rude expressions to show your distaste for a situation. All slightly surreal and hilarious.
Unfortunately the temperature is finally dropping over here, but I've found myself a bargain in the local market! A whole ten euros well spent so I can do my best eskimo impression. I also now match with the boy, his version is slightly more upmarket, so we can walk to piano and swimming fully coordinated. It may still be comfortably above 15'c at all times but I've got used to the warmth now and am really questioning how I'm going to cope with the shock of going back to the UK at Christmas. Hello thermals!
Saturday meant time to see Barcelona from up high and a return to Tibidabo. I'd already visited the amusement park section with the family but fancied going back for more of an explore. We hopped on the bus, it's a long way to the top, which in itself was probably more nerve-wracking than all the rides. Hairpin bends, a full bus and a kamikaze driver weren't a great combination but we made it in one piece and the views are definitely worth it.
The mountain is to the North of the Barcelona and you can see the whole of the city stretching out to the sea and the little towns dotted along the coast. We headed into the church of the church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The lower section is the crypt with beautiful mosaics and has a much more traditional feel, even though the main church building was not built that long after. The host mum told me they used to use the statue of Jesus at the top in maths classes to compare dimensions with Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro.
We wanted to make it to the top of the tower but were faced by the outrageous sum of 2.50 euros for the privilege so quit while we were ahead and wander round the terrace above the crypt which looks over the amusement park below.
It was really peaceful overseeing the hustle and bustle of the city and walking through the trees. Then it was time for a picnic and then to pysche ourselves up for the hair-raising bus trip down the mountain.
Sunday meant sailing again and my first race in Spain. We had another beautifully sunny day, although definitely lacking in wind. The perfect combination of sun, wind and being able to go sailing is fairly elusive. I was at the tiller for most of the time again which I've decided is probably the most tiring. Checking the wind, our general course and trying to make sense of different instructions was a challenge whilst the rest of the crew discussed how on earth we were going to use the asymmetric (colourful sail used in light winds). It magically worked when deploying it initially and then got in a right mess trying to change direction. Thankfully as I was fully employed in the tiller I didn't have to try and rectify the cats cradle of ropes and sail.
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| Super cool car in the marina |
In other news, I've been continuing beach training with my coach and making friends. We had a run in with a Great Dane today who apparently most dogs are too scared to play with, not Nana. She got unceremoniously slapped by accident and had to hide behind me for a minute. Great Danes make Golden Retrievers look pretty small!
