Barcelona – Day 19

I started this post 8 days ago. A lot has happened since then. I think I meant to post this as I landed in London, but, having fallen asleep on the plane, I forgot. It feels strange reading it now. I find myself oddly detached from the me who wrote it in the first place. Only eight days have gone by but it feels as if it’s well in the past. Once again, this confirms the idea that time should not be quantified in years and months, but in something akin to this formula:

Passage of time = intensity/moment.

This works when the moment is in the past. The greater the intensity, the more it fills up one’s past. The exact opposite,

Passage of time = moment/intensity

happens when moment = present, as time seems to slip by uncontrollably fast. Anyway, I’m rambling. Here’s the post:

A new day a new journey. Today I said goodbye to Barcelona. Some of it didn’t want to let me go. When swimming for a last time, I accidentally swallowed a bit of the Mediterranean. Also, somehow, there’s still sand in my shoes. I’m in the process of smuggling it in the UK right now. Strictly speaking, all of that happened yesterday, but I’ll call it a day after I get a few hours of sleep.

I’ve decided to spend my last days on the beach and actually going outside Barcelona, to Montserrat, a rather picturesque mountain range with a monastery and a few hotels at the high end of a cable car journey. Said monastery boasts a miracle performing black wooden carving of Mary and Christ. The colour itself is considered somewhat of a miracle, despite the fact that scientific analysis proved that the wood was blackened by smoke from candles. The ability to willfully ignore uncomfortable facts is one of humanity’s most useful gifts.

Au revoir Barcelona. Hello London. I have missed you.

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