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Reports

During my travels, I received free accommodation for a night in exchange for writing a daily travel diary. This diary documented how I reached my next destination, the hosts who welcomed me, the food I was offered, and other experiences along the way. Below, you will find the archives of these extensive reports. Please note that English is not my native language, and most entries were written quickly, often around midnight. Enjoy!
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Friday, 28 December 2001
--> Barcelona (E) Christmas story part 2

“Eeh… Gerben, can you write something for Letmestayforaday.com? I told everybody I’d be off the line for two weeks. Come on, be a good friend, hehe!” When Ramon asked me this question, my predictable response was: “But I wouldn’t know what to write!” With Ramon resistance is futile, so here is part 2.

The Christmas Story:

LetmestaywithmyfriendsinBarcelona.com – PART 2

reported by Gerben and assisted by Mirjam, Justine, Irena & Munk


Strange. I feel completely at ease by doing nothing. Sleep, read, write and eat. Oh, and observing the Spanish nightlife of course.

I spent most of the day in the bed that I shared with Mirjam. (The apartment has three bedrooms with double beds, three bathrooms, a huge kitchen and a kingsize livingroom with view on the city)

Ramon did his internet-thing on his brand new laptop, and Munk just lounged on the couch all day. Only Justine and Irena were active. They just got back; they walked all the way through the city because those cab drivers don’t understand their perfect English.

Today I woke up at 3 PM and made breakfast (rather an early dinner) for Mirjam and me. Great to watch the sunset from our bed.

If you would call us lazy bastards I’d probably agree. But then again, we won’t care.

Ramon really needed a vacation and we are not going to exhaust him by nagging or wining about the lack of cultural activities here.

Then again, we’ve all been in Barcelona before (except Irena, which explains why she is one the most active).

Justine will be leaving us tomorrow. She’s going to Scotland to visit her parents and celebrate New Year’s Eve there.

And she’s a party girl! You should have seen her in the Baja Beach Club. The diva swept everybody off the floor. Together with Irena she forms a duo that can only be matched by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers.

I’m sorry to see one of us leaving because we’re such a good team.

I’ll give you an example: I know by experience that Munk hates clubs like the Baja. He would call it a horny hen house. But guess who stood next to me at the bar just because he didn’t want to spoil the party.

Munk and I almost got into trouble. There were a few gay men on the dance floor and one of them showed a healthy craving for us two Dutch men at the bar - if you know what I mean. That’s what we would call ‘A Spain in the Ass’. The girls had a similar experience. One lady that wanted to do the funky chicken with Mirjam pinched her in the but. Oh!

I can’t wait to see the pictures Ramon made with his digital camera. They’ll explain a lot. I want to let you know that some are tampered with. Ramon is a PhotoShop-wizard. I DID NOT PUKE THE PAELLA, MUM!!

Man, if we could only live like this forever, or at least a little bit longer. Form a commune of some kind.

That’s not a bad idea. We could turn this place into a refuge for burned-out bachelors (Yes, we all recently dumped or were dumped! Except Ramon of course, he doesn’t have the time, haha).

We are also turning into real Spaniards. Our rhythms have changed completely. In Holland you have dinner at six. Here we have dinner at eleven. In Holland we go out at ten or eleven. Here we go out at 2 AM.

This is also the reason why we skip breakfast and really look forward to dinner.

I must also say that I’m a bit disappointed in the fact that Ramon has lost all his kitchen-skills. Back in Zwolle he would cook for me once a fortnight. Man, I could write a book about the meals I’ve had at his place. He can’t even boil an egg now, but enough about food.

I’ll leave you with my thought for the day:
¿Donde es mi cerveza? (Where is my beer?)

Gerben.

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