A House Of Colour and Light

 Gaudi’s house , Casa Batllò was a beautiful and humbling experience. At times through the audio guide I felt father emotional listening to the thoughts of the home by the Batllò’s daughter.

“ A house of colour and light “ she described it.

A mooch through the Mercado de la Boqueria The Gothic Quarter,, 

Chocolate churros, mexican bomb patas, The Ramblas, 

Fucking knackered 

It’s all in the Hands

A bit of back street flamenco 

Somewhere in downtown Barcelona 

Fantastic

 

Some pictures of the day

It’s very hot

I’m totally in love with Gaudi

And tapas

Sterner Stuff

 

We were delayed a few hours at the airport but were refused to be stressed by it all.

Subsequently we travelled the train and metro at rush hour and found our delightful apartment out near El Putxet at Dusk. Jane has gone out to buy provisions 

I’ve opened a beer

I think there’s a pretty school outside and a relaxing dinner is on the cards

It’s been a long day 

Miss Saigon

 Much criticism has been launched at the new version of Miss Saigon , all rather unfairly I think. Bloody hell I remember seeing it in 1989 when North Walian Jonathan Pryce played the engineer with silty eyed prosthetics and a Kung Foo accent.

I loved the Crucible’s version. Jessica Lee ‘s vocals matched Lea Selonga’s anyday and Joanna Ampil brought a different energy to the usual male role of The Engineer. She was fabulous as was Shane O’Riordan who played John.

On the way to Manchester now and the airport.

Going Home

 

Sheffield will always be my second home.

It’s a flying visit this time, with only time to catch up with my friend Mike , watch Miss Saigon at the Crucible before driving back over the Pennines to Manchester airport and Barcelona 

I love that Snake Pass is open and this afternoon stopped to catch up with this view which means that I’m almost home.

The Boy On The Bike

 Best laid plans 

This story is worth sharing. 

I wasn’t expecting anything too

But It made me laugh 

So hopefully it will make a few of you readers titter.

I was packing my small suitcase during a real downpour when I heard a sort of bang and some distant shouting and crying. I waited for a while but the sounds continued so I pushed through the wet honeysuckle over the front door and looked into the lane. 

A sports bike was resting on its side by the field gate and a young man in Lycra and helmet stood in the street holding his side . 

He looked dreadfully upset and was bleeding from his fingers. His bike had lost it’s grip on the corner

“I’ve scraped my side !” he cried and he looked around 18 going on ten with all his face screwed up

I showed him into the cottage and he limped into the bathroom to check his wounds . 

I went through the first aid kit and dug out plasters for his hands

“I need a big dressing “ he wailed from the bathroom, all regressed and panicked 

I went upstairs with a bottle of TCP to see a large five inch square scrape on his thigh and fashioned a square of clean cotton from an old pillowcase. 

It looked like a scene from a cheap porno .

Him crying will it hurt? 

Before me saying “ Im a nurse” as I cleaned  the grit out of a nasty scrape with  my pillowcase dipped in antiseptic.

He was a brave little soldier and we dressed his cuts with plasters before he sat down on the couch and sipped some sweet orange juice before getting back on his bike 

“Me mum should be home when I get back” he said hopefully

Enough

My Chinese lanterns a gift from myself

A break from Going Gently

I’ll post when I’m home