While I know this is totally off topic, and that it probably belongs under this heading in the blog called Wayward Pioneer (which is also me, just in case you missed that…) I have been doing some traveling lately. What I have learned is that I miss my guitar when I am gone. In Spain, I had the use of one for days, which was nice, but in Utah, I did not. As it seems that there will be several trips to Utah in my future, I already have someone scouting the pawn shops for one I can leave there. Come to think of it though, I could totally see myself doing a Wayward Pioneer Guitar Shops the Pawns. That would make a better transition to consolidate the blogs, for certain.
Anyway, there has been a call from Germany for me to get back to writing. I was going to stretch that lone call into something like a wild clamor, but that is really too much of a stretch, even for me. So here I am, for my own pleasure, and because a persistent nagging from a certain small German is a common thread for my life, and I’m caving in. (My Grandmother was likewise a certain small German, and She Who Would Be Obeyed. Are you following me here?)
It is difficult for me to organize all of my thoughts about Spain. I loved visiting that country before I had family there, and now that I do, the experience of being there is just that much richer. I have been in most parts of the country by now, except the northwest; a deficiency I intend to remedy sooner than later. But this trip, planned around Elisa and Juan Carlos’ wedding, was made very special by the time I spent with Concha and Juan, and with the young couple as we went from the wedding in Madrid to Barcelona together, laughing, eating (every 20 minutes) and drinking both enough wine and enough coffee to keep both agricultural disciplines happily enriched. I was able to gain a wider circle of acquaintances, and to get my fill of art every day – well, except for that day after the wedding…nothing was happening that day. I do love how, in Barcelona, you can set yourself up for a Gaudi-A-Day…not to mention Picasso, Miró, street artists, musicians, swirling market color and, did I mention, something to eat every 20 minutes. So what follows are photos – almost, but not quite random- because by this point in time, everything is melding into a happy, happy memory that will eventually require refreshment.
Okay, I’ve been loading photos for awhile now. Barcelona will have to wait…life is getting in the way