marksabout

Since my last update, I’ve been to Madrid, Granada, Barcelona (LOVE), Paris and I’m calling from Berlin. Have only been here for a couple of hours. I’m in what I think is the middle of the city, and it seems somewhat dead. Like Canberra. Am sure I’m in the wrong part of town. I’m definately staying in the wrong part of town. Apparently the stars aligned this weekend to ensure that all affordable accommodation in Berlin is full. I’m staying 1 stop from the airport in a fairly ordinary pension… Having said that, I’m getting a great vibe from the place, and looking forward to exploring after a recharge tonight. Tips and pointers welcome.

Once again, I’ve left writing so late that I have information overload. So the stripped down version: After 6 weeks, I fell in love with Spain and reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllly want to live there… Somehow. I’m pretty sure Spain isn’t taking people though, with 20% unemployment they’re hardly going to want a non-Spanish speaker. We’ll see. Loved Barcelona, despite the weather turing for the worse on arrival. After 31 degrees in Granada, it was a bit of a shock to arrive in Barna at 1am in pouring rain. Without a reservation, mind. Needless to say, soaking wet, I took the first room I could find (after 1 rejection, I wasn’t up for taking a risk). The room sucked, and wasn’t cheap, but for the next few nights I was invited to stay with my new friend Ferran who I met on the Camino. I did the obligatory Gaudi trail, and generally enjoyed wandering about the barri gottic (old town) for hours on end. Also met up with another new Camino friend who got his first job as a Doctor at one of Barcelona’s hospitals. I went house hunting with him for a couple of hours and got to experience the city from a local perspective. Some of the appartments have amazing interior architecture. Think huge cornices with full on 3D cherubim, then imainge the stairwell… Highly reccommend Barna to anyone who hasn’t been. (And Madrid and Granada for that matter…)

After Spain, I met mum and dad for a week in Paris. It was a huge relief to step out of backpacker mode and into Egyptian cotton resort mode. In France the flavour of my tour changed dramatically, and not just cos I was in foodie land. Though I have to say, the food was noticeably better than in Spain where the basic idea is to slap it (virtually anything, I’m not kidding) into a piece of bread and call it a sandwich (bocadillo). You have to ask for butter. And you should: the bread is usually dry. Anyway, Paris. We were actually staying out of Paris which placed a host of other sites within reach. Dad drove us to Champagne (yum) and to an awesome medieval town called Provins. I requested a visit to , France’s first landscape-architecturised palace. Long story, but the king didn’t own it, got jealous, threw the owner into jail, seized it and employed the same architect, interior designer and landscape architect to build Versailles.

I also got about 500 photos of the Eiffel Tower. What is it with that thing and being so damned photogenic?

Anyways, I’m off to get cold in Berlin. I shan’t buy a new coat for these last few days rather, wear all the clothes I brought with me. It’s going to be hot in Athens. And potentially violent. Hmmmm