From my travel journal: Burns, Beds, and Barcelona.

April 14

It has to be said that generally, hostel beds are good only to the weary traveler. You've been traveling all day, by plane, by bus, on foot, then seeing sights and staring blankly at maps and guides, buying necessary supplies and gathering names of good restaurants, and by the end of the day, maybe after a good show and a drink of the local ale (sangria, in Barcelona's case), all you want to do is pass out. At the end of a day like that, tap water is like the sweet nectar of a desert oasis and a hostel bed is like a cloud. But after that first night, and maybe some subsequent naps, your energy slowly catches up to you, you get used to the place, and you realize that hostel beds are crappy, glorified cardboard boxes.

Okay, so they aren't that bad. But they're enough to make you appreciate a softer mattress once in a while.

At this place, though, the bed isn't too bad. Maybe it's because I'm still tired, but I don't think so...I'm awake enough to be aware of the talking down the hall, the guy coughing next door, even enough to wonder if the noise outside will bother me tonight. Last night I lay right down, decided that the traffic sounds made me feel right at home, and I passed the heck out for almost 7 hours straight only to be awakened by my bladder. Also, earlier this evening, after 7 hours of walking (admittedly there was some view-staring, bus-riding and paella-eating too) I took the heaviest one-hour nap of my life. It was perfect. Siesta's an excellent tradition. In fact, I've been trying to compile a list of healthy habits one can find scattered throughout the world's cultures. Siesta has a lot to do with temperature, but naps are helpful at that time of day (around 2 or 3 pm) in general.

Inspired by talk of siestas, I tried to think of healthy French cultural habits. Smoking? Definitely not. Baguettes? Not so much. Arguing? Maybe for the mind... Walking and eating fresh food each day? Bingo. The Germans have the environmental stuff down...in fact, the general favoring of smaller stuff in Europe is probably helpful to both the environment and our waistlines. Well, not mine just yet, but I'll get there. Everything in moderation, right? Including fruity mentos, which I've been eating TONS of. And today I ate Paella, which is delicious, but I couldn't even finish it! What is the point of this big American gut if the actual organ is too small to handle a pan of good paella?! I ate it on La Rambla.

I love La Rambla, mainly for the mercat (market, even though I always think meerkat) that sells all kinds of fruit juice there. I love all things fruity (take that as you wish). So far I've had mango coco (FAVE), mango and papaya, and fresa, I mean, strawberry and something or other, maybe coconut. The strawberry was a little overpowering, but it was still yummy. It's hard to pace myself with all this good food everywhere. If I just don't eat for hours, then have a big meal, I feel not only full but like I'm gonna die. That, I think, is a good lesson for a traveler to learn, unless you're a traveler with an iron, bottomless-pit stomach. I can't say I'd mind having one of those.

Pam and I had a good liberal discussion with some new friends tonight. One girl was Lauren, who gave us lots of valued info, including workaway.info. The other was Louise, who is Australian and traveling Europe until she eventually settles in London. Man has she traveled a lot! I was so jealous. She recommended Buenas Aires (sorry if I spelled it wrong), then she and Pam raved about Argentinian food. All I could think of was the end scene of the book Hannibal, which was a good enough indication to me that I may very well be heading to Buenas Aires next.

Er, that is, after Russia. And Switzerland. This world is too dang full of things to see and too empty of money to see them all!

I AM missing Paris a little. In fact, during the very little downtime we've had, I've been writing down little things I want to do for my Paris Staycation. Maybe a traditional French breakfast somewhere, a Croque Madame and a cafe for lunch at Les Deux Magots, a stroll down Champs Elysees...

But like Paris, Barcelona is amazing, so full of things to see. Colorful, lively, even the sidewalks are kind of pretty. Even the shape of the city blocks are a little different. And Gaudi architecture is colorful, whimsical, beautiful, alive, dreamlike. Sagrada Familia was unbelievable. Parc Guell was adorable. Like Flamenco dancing, Barcelona seem powerful, passionate and beautiful. I'm just so glad to be able to be here and see it all, and to finally have seen the Mediterranean!

April 15

HOW'D IT GET BURNED?!!!

That's what I think when I look at my face. After two hours on the beach with the protection of my made-for-albinos-SPF 50 sunblock, I look (and feel) pretty baked. We didn't even do as much today as we did yesterday, but by 5 or 6 Pam and I were both pooped. We didn't even want to go inside Sagrada Familia anymore, we just wanted a nap.

It was a good day, though. Beach, Rambla, paella and fruit juice. The best paella place on La Rambla has a sign on top of their display menu that says THE BEST SANGRIA. I finally got to see and feel the Mediterranean. Sadly, it was too cold to really swim, although I may have if we'd stayed longer lying in the sand. Oh well, I'll just have to come back! Feeling pretty drunk off the sunshine (and maybe a little from the sangria I had), so I think I'll take a nap before I update!