this is the life.

hi hi friendly readers. i am not sure if there are many of you but i will blog on as it brings me joy.

I spent a wonderful week in Edinburgh with Liz. As is our way, we fell into a pleasing routine were we would get up, breakfast and coffee at Black Medicine together (Kath used to work there!), then she would go to work, I would take her crew pass, go see shows for free. Dinner during her break then more shows for me then I would collect her round midnight and we´d go out for a drink. It was all most enjoyable.

I saw some great shows, have a newfound passion for Tim Minchin (genius!), respect for Reginald D Hunter (anyone who can do a stand up routine about Josef Fritzl and keep the audience´s love deserves it) and a strong dislike for stupid old Parky wannabe, Nicholas Parsons. I also saw a great musical called The Kiddy Fiddler on the Roof, wonderful childrens theatre (Potted Potter, all seven booksz in seventy minutes), caught up with Cath at Circus Oz, ran into Alice in the street, and met Camille The Dark Angel (well technically we chatted to her sister but she was standing RIGHT THERE.) Oh and I saw Jennifer Saunders. That was exciting.

Sleeping on Liz´s floor nearly broke my back but it was worth it to see her flip out at her messy housemates and start hiding clean dishes for us to use in the morning. Her abusive notes pasted on doors and ovens also entertained. Especially when the angry note was written to a guy whose birthday it was. No excuse!

I sadly farewelled my companion and boarded a flight to Barcelona on Monday. Where it is boiling hot. Liz had told me I would love Barcelona but I wasn´t sold right away. I am not one for truly appreciating 35 degree weather. It made trudging around the spectacular Sagrida Familia a bit exhausting. However when I hit the beach on Tuesday afternoon I was pretty stoked. Also quite pleasing is the European penchant for not wearing a top on the beach. Not for the perv factor but because I could just change into my swimmers right there. I have a new rule when it comes to vanity or modesty: Ýou will never see these people again, who cares if they think you are fat. It is a good rule.

On Tuesday night I made friends with a Canadian traveller. We realised that we both:
a) were nearly 25 (cue quarter life crisis)
b) had recently quit our jobs
c) were blowing massive savings
d) had recently participated in pleasing holiday flings

With these commonalities we set out to find a tapas bar, found a restaurant instead, gorged on Spanish delicacies and proceeded to catch the wrong night bus, finding ourselves in the Barcelona burbs at 3am. We got a taxi back to the hostel and apart from some murmurs from disgruntled sisters from uruguay that we woke up when we got in, all was well.

Yesterday was bliss. We went to some Gaudi buildings and Parc Guell and marvelled at the view over the city, and Gaudi´s fairytale like crazy style. We headed for the beach and lay in the sun, got a 5 euro massage and took photos of ourselves. And swimming in the sea with someone who hadn´t been in salt water before this trip was HIGHLY amusing and joyous. Finally we dragged ourselves from the sand, bought an excess of fruit and veges from the market for about 10 euros each and headed back to the hostel.

This arvo I´m off to Granada to couch surf with some guy called Tom. Not too thrilled about the 14 hour bus ride, but good times ahead I hope.

I am happy.
I am well.

Love Maeve