I am still alive
I am in Barcelona until Monday, at which point I fly to Brussels and probably take the train to Ghent.
I am having a pretty awesome time on my trip. Recent highlights - visiting the Alhambra thoroughly; all of Seville (except perhaps the Metropol Parisol, aka the main reason I went); playing with the Grulitas in Lanzarote, both on and off the field; walking around Sagrada Famiglia and finding both Modernista and pre-modernista gems in random Barcelona streets.
The best food I have eaten is the Bon Bon tapas from that awesome restaurant we visited on Sunday night after a nice walk from our apartments on Lanzarote (wherein I explained linoleum and everyone listened with apparent interest). The bocadillo here in Barcelona the first day I arrived. The cake-first meal I had with A and J in Cologne, with possibly the best berry cake in the world, then cabbage roulade with delicious pumpkin mash. Also, the meal they cooked me with orange-garlic salad, duck with orange sauce, and fruit cobbler. Pastries in Paris, pretty much without exception. Jamon Iberico. Tinto de Verrano.
Seville is beautiful, walkable, full of interesting buildings, laid back, and sunny, and if I'm not married in 3 years I'll learn Spanish and move there because it's full of the most handsome men I've ever encountered in one place, and I've played in a lot of frisbee tournaments.
I have met so many wonderful people on this trip, which is something I was really worried about. I never feel really good writing about them, though...suffice it to say, sometimes it's quite difficult to say goodbye to someone you've know for really only a few hours, or someone you're getting to be with again after many, many years apart.
Blogging while on a trip is hard to do - when I have a thought, I'm usually out walking around, and don't want to stop to record it; frequently I'm without good internet connection; often there's too much to say. Occasionally there's not enough to say. Some places are disappointing or require more processing or are overwhelmingly awesome.
You can see a through-line from the vernacular architecture of the area around Chur and Peter Zumthor's buildings. I wish more buildings were like his best works.
It's an amazingly difficult thing to keep architectural pilgrimage sites maintained. So many hands want to touch, feet walk through dirty from the trek there, gum and trash magically accumulate, birds poop, sun and rain and snow fall, stones and mortar fall, metal expands, times change. Sometimes, these days, it's also difficult to see anyone enjoying them in real time. Everyone has their cameras out, to the point that I wonder what is actually coming through, but nonetheless/and, I feel compelled to take my own pictures to fit in. Sharing the space with so many camera faces can be very odd - it's not exactly what I imagine when I think of creating great buildings for people to enjoy.
I kept up with photo documentation of my trip until I arrived in Paris. I have Milan, Cinque Terre, Sagogn, Lauterbrunnen, Basel, and Lyon (including all side trips) through rough edit, but Paris gave me a huge backlog. Cologne, Barcelona, Lanzarote, and Seville will be up someday. Maybe.
East of Eden is a fantastic book. 99% Invisible is an amazing podcast. I was a little annoyed by but also quite enjoyed the Alchemist, and enjoyed without reservation the Book Thief. Wait Wait Don't Tell Me is almost too funny to listen to on public transportation. I am so grateful for podcasts. They are free, insightful, entertaining, easy to get and delete, short, and they give you a dose of English whenever you want one.
My French helped me survive, but is not conversational.
My portfolio is under construction. This whole website is under construction. Sometimes you start projects at really inopportune moments, but at least you have started them.
I'm very happy to find myself eager to start on my Portland adventure. I'm not hurrying through this part of the trip, but it's been very reassuring to have conversations with people where I tell them where I'm from and I know that I'll have as much exploring to do when I get "home" as I am doing here. I'm still keeping my ears open for places that call my name here, though.
I think I'm staying within my budget. I have occasionally skipped something I wish I hadn't, but such is life. I feel like I've had some really excellent luck on this trip. I've stuck quite closely to the plan I made ahead of time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm drifting around too much, not engaging enough, and sometimes I realise that I haven't been going out on the weekends much - only when I'm with friends, really. Then, I try to listen hard to what I'm really feeling. Mostly, I'm not sure what it is, but it's good practice and every now and then, I hear something.