Read about my very first trip to Barcelona and about a mysterious story.

 

June 6th 2016, Doha, Qatar, at the airport

I came from bay 101 with flight 220 (Bucharest) only to go to Barcelona (flight 137) and come back with flight 146. All 11s.

It’s Ramadan already, new month of June.

My friend asking me when I will return home. Me, being ironic: “Are you kidding me – haven’t you seen that I didn’t know yesterday what I’m doing tomorrow”. The surprise of June: I just found out I’m off to Barcelona tonight for 2 days.

From January’s Barcelonaa Romanian saying tells the sum of vices is constant. However, I am addicted. Truly addicted to traveling, but not as a purpose, as a mean. To provoke myself, to expand my limits, to put myself at risk, to uncover myself and discover my depths. To spend time with strangers, to trust them to get help and help them, to do secret charity and accept the kindness of others, to speak people’s language, to lie and pretend, to find what’s real for me, to find meaning and to click with moments, people and a certain scene, to be all, to play fool, to act smart, to take sweet and low decisions, to control myself, to let go…

I travel and travel and travel.

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This times for me are times of searches. And God, what I find.

 

June 7th  2016, Barcelona, Spain 

Arrived in Barcelona, where I’ve had one of the best adventures last time I was here. Checked in my room with a view to the Torre Agbar, the condom looking one, the older brother of the one in Doha.

People say information comes to you when you need it or when you’re ready. Well, apparently the person in front of me gives me the right (usually encrypted) information with such ease. As in a movie, the person does not care or seems not to give much importance to what we’re speaking about. They give me precise information, with details, like it’s a cookies recipe.

Every now and then I meet this kind of people and I feel we’re from the same story, that there are other characters in my story.

Walking on Avenida Diagonal wearing a long Islamic Art pink and green motifs on black fabric, a beach black blazer with long and thin tassels, green ballerinas with small holes and a fedora hat.

When I pack for a destination, I pack my dreams and principles, my stories and my thoughts. Also, the clothes I put in my suitcase – this sort of magic carpet – have to be from the same magical lands of my stories. Cruise collection for this 2 day stay in Barcelona, which I got packed with a ribbon from standby as an absolute surprise.

Cruising. Trippin’. La vida es un carnival.

Morning from Barcelona! Bed view! Bad ass. Barcelona. No sleep. Pack. Unpack. Don’t pack, just go. Is it morning? Coffee. No coffee. Just champagne and oysters. ‪

 

June 7th 2016, Barcelona, later that day

Be bold be free and do whatever the fuck you want. Try to kill your ego and you will no longer knock at the gates of despair. Other gates will open.

Accept you limits, only this way you’ll expand them.

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I love to say I’m limitless and I am, I truly am, but within my limits. There’s no limit my friend, but we set limitations for us. Of course I have limits and you have limits, but what is average for me might be unconceivable for you and the other way around.

And walking in Barcelona and writing this in front of my eyes the Mediterranean opens – blue and limitless. Oh, yes with some geographical limits.

Don’t I get bored traveling alone? Nope! My soul needs solitude.

Why am I alone? And a Guy whom I suspect is a Benedictine monk.

Part two of the cruise collection. Wearing a mid-calf A-line high waist thick cotton white on white print skirt bought from my recent travels together with my mom’s white on white embroidery blouse with leaf shaped holes and wide angles cut, gold sandals and same fedora beach hat. I’m walking on the beach of Barcelona and men are looking at me more than at the topless women.

I hate you and I love you every second of my life.

I walk by the lively beach from Parc de Poblenou until the Port Olimpic, I look at the ships and waters, think of him, continue to sip my fresh fruit mojito that I bought from one of the fancy bars on the beach, I pass by Pacha and Opium, where I will get fucked up tonight, arrive at Playa Barceloneta, keep walking. Buy cocktails on the way. Almost at the W, where I wanted to have some fancy dinner, but decide last minute to go by the funicular up Montjuic- Miramar. Of course it is stuck up with other people, but who cares? I wait 10 minutes and still go.

I eat seafood paella and drink yet another glass of rose wine while admiring Barcelona from above. I can see the Agbar Tower, Passeig de Colon, Museu Maritim, Sagrada Familia, the sea, the W – all the city.

Came back walking by Port Vell, in the silence of the sun set, by the huge cruise ships and small sailing boats, looking at them merchandise of the blanket stands in front of the Museu d’Historia de Catalunya. I would’ve stopped at one of the nice restaurants there, but I was in a hurry to get to eat at that particular restaurant and then I need to get changed in by backless jumpsuit and high heels and hit the clubs. All in a little over one hour.

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June 8th 2016, Barcelona, La Vida Buena

And all of a sudden I’m thinking about working on a boat. Well…if God and destiny wants.

To be undercover means to identify yourself so well with the person you “are” that even you are confused about your identity. Pure theatre! Teatro, la vida es puro teatro – La Lupe. And yes, I will get in Cuba this year.

Just ate oysters Central America style en El Rey de las Gambas 2 where he took me.

In the taxi, which I ordered in Spanish, plays Is it in His Kiss – Cher? Is it?

I’m starting to know Barcelona well, as I know quite some cities by now – New York, Jakarta, Milan.

I wished I would remember all the details of that night when …

 

June 9th 2016, Doha, Qatar, 2:20AM

Came back from Barcelona, parked at gate C11.

I’m taking off for Bucharest, second time in one week. This month will kill me or cure me. Seoul-Bucharest-Barcelona-Bucharest. Sydney.

And Gosh, it’s time to bid (ask for next month’s flights) again. Life is passing by so fast.

The life and the intensity of my life living is overwhelming even for me.

That which you are seeking is causing you to seek. – I read this 10 times and still did not get it, yet I’m still seeking. Maybe that’s what it’s all about.

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How many times can one see this bear in the Doha Airport in one month? Literally living in airports and aircraft even when not working Loving the egate , which allows me to exit and enter the country just by swiping the Qatari ID. It’s funny how I need a passport to enter Romania – my national ID is somewhere in Cambodia – and can enter and exit Qatar just by blinking my eye. Life is an interesting journey!

Slept all the way in the plane. I live, work, travel, sleep, make friends, have joys and disappointments in planes.

 

Later that day, Bucharest, Romania

Read during landing from the book “to die is not to die” and found something I know before – we choose our parents and our life. We sign a contract before we come (back?) here. Should this be why I chose the path of law for the very beginning?

How did I chose my life – I don’t know, but I was fucking schizophrenic or drunk when I did it.

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Saw homeless talking alone and I wished one day I have the possibility to take care of them, actually my dream for years is to have a canteen for homeless.

Feeling particularly good in my cousin’s flat in Bucharest.

Just arrived from flight and I have my feet up looking at her bamboo wall drawings.

Thinking for a moment how would it be to come back to Bucharest, have a normal life, go back to office or semi-office job.

[…]

Forget about it! I’m going back to fly. My home is in the sky.

 

Pack like me

Read here about last month’s adventure in Barcelona 

January 26th 2016, flying to Barcelona, Spain

We try to change people. That’s one of our life’s problems and source of disappointment and grief. If you want to change somebody, change yourself.

I’m a lion away from the pride. A lonely horse. I just fly and land with my thoughts and plans in and out of my own world. Luxury for me is being wild and young and free.

A few days ago I met someone that made me think that that is exactly how I don’t want to end up. Today I met someone who has the “I always do it like that” mentality, something that is not foreign to me. So when he – living in Barcelona for longer than my life – asked, I took the risk although it meant ruining my already made plans. And actually he changed his plan to fit my plan too, so let’s see…

Although I am awake for many hours and I flew from Doha to Barcelona I cannot sleep, so I’m again on the top of the hotel, next to the pool. There are around 16 degrees Celsius and the sun is up.

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[…]

 

I took him to the museum and he took me somewhere away from Barcelona. We got lost few, actually many, times and I was thinking in life we spend most of our time to get back to the main road.

Over the years I have had periods like this one, when I simply cannot stop partying and the people around me seem in the same mood. Dhaka, Doha, Phuket and now Barcelona, in just one week. It’s fun, but Christmas time is over. However, these memories will last forever. Of course, the ones I remember.

A Romanian saying tells the sum of vices is constant. However, I am addicted. Truly addicted to traveling, but not as a purpose, as a mean. To provoke myself, to expand my limits, to put myself at risk, to uncover myself and discover my depths. To spend time with strangers, to trust them to get help and help them, to do secret charity and accept the kindness of others, to speak people’s language, to lie and pretend, to find what’s real for me, to find meaning and to click with moments, people and a certain scene, to be all, to play fool, to act smart, to take sweet and low decisions, to control myself, to let go…

I travel and travel and travel and my suitcases will not move from the journey corner (North-West). Try it! I suggested it to my cousin and she left for one month to Germany and The Philippines with work. Feng Shui works. Use it!

I missed some museums I planned on visiting, but I gained so much more and this is what is meaningful to me. Not want I should do, but what I end up with from what I actually do.

So we went to see Park Guell.

IMG_4875Driving in Barcelona is crazy and confusing and I would really not recommend it. Barcelona is the city of Gaudi, that’s for sure and Park Guell, entrusted to Antonio Gaudi by Eusebio Guell is one of the most enjoyable places to spend an afternoon and taste the unique art air of Barcelona.

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We walked on La Rambla de Poblenou and ate some good beef at La Vida Buena. Like ours right now. Tomorrow I don’t know what is going to happen, but I have a feeling.

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Sunset somewhere in Spain…

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We had dinner in Barceloneta in the El Rey de la Gamba 2 and went for some more drinks at Makamaka Beach Burger Café. Slept all the way to departure.

I learned how to eat oysters in two ways. Loved the one with beer, tabasco, salt and lemon and I just can’t wait to taste it again. He lied to me and I pretended to not notice.

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I missed the interior of the Sagrada Familia, Casa Batllo, The Picasso Museum, /casa Milla, The Palace of Catalan Music, The Monserrat and The Dali Museum, but I lived what I like to live – la vida loca, la vida imprevisible, la vida real. Life by the edge, the real life.

23 July 5:20, Doha, Qatar, on my way to the airport, destination Madrid

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The perfectly round and yellow sun completes the picture of the architecture of I.M.Pei’s Museum of Islamic Art and far away you can see the new area of the city (West Bay). In front of that, close by are the wooden boats floating gently in the mirror water. The sun is hidden between some drawn aspect white clouds at the top and bottom of the perfect circle of the sun. The light is mirrored in the water between the small boats anchored every now and then in the gulf. This is yet another day in the desert in which my view is of holiday, my destination is a holiday on the premises of what is called a …job.

25 July 2015, 3 PM, Madrid

I have arrived in Madrid. The biggest clouds I’ve ever seen, white and massive, grown from the water and ground, like a milky blue fog are in front of my eyes. It’s sunny and there are more than 30 degrees.

Freedom is in the air. And happiness. From the airport arrivals you can tell: people with huge smiles, colorful clothes, waiting with flower bouquets for their loved ones or with huge balloons, trolleys with elephant and tigers for kids.

The buildings are not tall – about 2 floors high.

There is something exotic and something familiar about Spain.

During landing my years blocked and I felt like collapsing. Then I said to myself: Don’t miss this, you’re in Madrid. Than I thought: Who cares?

I closed my eyes for 3 minutes, yawned twice and I’m new. I really love this reset mechanism of mice and strength I have (apparently true, after three days I went to the doctor and my ears and nose are a mess so I am not even allowed to fly). Maybe it’s called youth, maybe it’s passion or maybe this is the way I was sent on Earth, prepared for something that will come my way one day…

I feel so tired and for some kind of reason this makes me speak a perfect Spanish, that even I am amazed of. With the cashier at the metro station I speak so fast since I am upset because the machine takes only small money, I have 100 euros bill, the ticket is 2 euros and by card you can only pay minimum 5 euros. Gizas! Cashier is there to exist, you cannot buy tickets from them. At least they’re there for me to practice my Spanish.

The taxi driver compliments my Spanish. He seems like a nice man and drops me off where I asked, at Prado Museum. Like all destinations, first stop, the museum. Especially in Madrid where Prado is a must see, one of the museums around the world, like Louvre, MOMA, National Library, Hermitage that you have to see at least once in a lifetime.

In our ride we went past the Buen Retiro (Pleasant Retreat) Park – where the Monument of Alfonso XII , Crystal Palace and other sculptures and walks are, Alcala Gate in the Independence Square, The Fountain of Cibeles – the symbol of Madrid, Paseo del Prado – from the fountain to the museum, Neptune Square – right next to the museum, the Ritz and finally arrived at The Museum.

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I was so lucky to catch a temporary exhibition – 10 Picassos from the Kunstmuseum Basel (https://www.museodelprado.es/en/exhibitions/exhibitions/at-the-museum/diez-picassos-del-kunstmuseum-de-basilea/exposicion/). If you are in Madrid until the 14th of September, don’t miss it. The Picassos are really the best of the work of the famous painter and they are displayed between Goyas and Velasquez, the painters that inspired the cubist painter, in the museum where Picasso was director for some years. The Picassos you can admire here during the exhibition are:  The Two Brothers, Man, Woman and Child, Bread and Fruit Dish on a Table, The Aficionado, Woman with a Guitar, Seated Harlequin or The Painter Jacinto Salvadó, Woman with Hat Seated in an Armchair, Young Ladies on the Banks of the Seine, after Courbet, Venus and Cupid, The Couple. Selfie stick was kept at the entrance of the museum and kindly returned at exit.

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Two other paintings that I really liked were El Bosco – El Jardin de las Delicias

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and El Bosco – 7 Pecatos Capitales.

This represent exactly what my interests are now, my path in life and what I want to burn from the past and where I want to be, what I want to become.

That day, with all the bubbles in my head, I looked pretty, maybe to pretty to go to museums, because people were literally staring at me and following me through the museum. Yes, pretty girls go to museums and think and – at least this one – knows quite a lot about art history and does not miss any museum visit in the cities where she travels.

In the café of the museum I wait in line looking at the cookies.

IMG_0757This guy next to me with a white apron, tall and skinny is singing. I catch the words and remember them (fruta prohibida tan indiferente tan fria). He moves on my right keeps working and singing about this cold woman. Then a lady from the other side of the counter starts singing along. This is what I feel Spain is about. Then I remember my Spanish prince charming. Well…not that young, let’s call him king. It is exactly like he described. Well, the song became one of my favorites and it is this one:

I left the museum to meet my friend from Madrid at the Banco de Espana

IMG_0830 and walked through the park on the Paseo del Prado, then walked on the Calle de Alcala, next to the Buenavista Palace and the mother of all Cervantes Institute.

 

With Rocio we went to Santa Ana Square and had some nice catching up for hours while sipping sangria – of course – right after stopping to buy – of course – books. From Madrid I bought just a magnet and books. What I suffer most of here in Doha is not the 35+ heat or …many others, but my books, my huge library spread in two cities, but now since I got an idea of how long I will stay here, I will start building it back in my apartment in the desert. I chose “Fire” the last part of Anais Nin’s trilogy and Daniel Defoe’s “Robinson Crusoe” in Spanish, of course.

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Next visit’s wish list includes the Thyssen Museum, which is more on my type of museum, but really, I could not miss the Prado. Then, I want to walk and walk and walk because the city is amazing and its vibe marvelous.