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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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Saturday, 29 December 2001
--> Barcelona (E) Christmas story part 3

“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 3...

The Christmas Story:

LetmestaywithmyfriendsinBarcelona.com – PART 3

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


Here’s another report about the days and nights in Barcelona.

I think Ramon let’s me write these suckers to make a point. It’s really hard to find the motivation and the discipline to write one everyday. It is also very exhausting. Even for me as a journalist.

I should be used to writing but this isn’t just that simple. It’s something completely different. It’s creating a story, finding words to impressions and descriptions that cannot be explained that easily. There is so much left unsaid, because I can’t find the words to describe what I see, feel or hear.

Every time I checked out Ramon’s site and see that he’s behind on his reports I’d send him an email or I’d call him to push him a little. I bet a lot of you regulars also have similar feelings. Sorry Ramon, I didn’t know it’s this hard.

Talk about hard. We’ve had to say goodbye to Justine this morning. She had to catch the 11.50 AM light to Edinburgh.

One down, four to go, Ramon!

After another enormous sleep-in and some sightseeing Irena and Mirjam had prepared a lovely dinner last night: a lot of meat and three delicious salads. Sadly enough they were also the ones who only took a bite or two. Stomach problems caused them to lay down their forks after five minutes.

Munk, Ramon and I took the freedom to act as food containers, as any man would do in these conditions.

Four hours later (nose powdering time included) we were ready to hit the hottest club in Barcelona. According to Anke (Ramon’s latest hostess in Sitges) La Paloma is the place to be.

And Anke may be praised! It’s a dance club situated in an old ballroom. There’s only one word for it: class. The people there are relaxed and totally at ease. The music was great. Professor Angel Dust and DJ Lippo introduced us to the something new called ‘bongo lounge’.

The DJ produced a wall of funky break beats and a bit of melody, upon which a small band (flute, keyboards, drums and bongo’s) would paint some irresistible jazz-themes. The music, the atmosphere and the surroundings made us have multiple platonic orgasms, as Justine called that feeling.

We were in awe (this time I’m not exaggerating). The girls, Ramon and I (Munk hadn’t come because his head ‘felt bigger than his bed’; whatever that may mean…) spent a lot of time between the red-pluche sit-ins and the dance floor.

And the end of the evening (or should I say the beginning of the morning) Justine, Ramon and I even ended up on stage dancing our buts off, just to keep the DJ going a little longer. Irena and Mirjam screamed their lungs out to cheer us on. What a team!

By the time we got back to the apartment it was already 7.30 AM.

Justine just had time to pack her bag, take a shower and have some breakfast. She’ll be half dead by the time she arrives in Scottish Edinburgh.

Munk and I brought her to the airport and went straight to bed, finally.

(I just heard that Justine’s plane had a delay due to a storm over Amsterdam. Poor girl. By the time she has recovered from this week it will be 2002)…

Gerben.

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