Before I start telling y’all all about Barcelona, I’d like to take a second to mention my mid-January weekend trip to visit Anne in Manchester. I’m not going to dedicate an entire post to that trip because I don’t have that much to say about it. We discovered a great deal on shots and I think that tells you all you need to know.

A filler photo from a random Tinderbox somewhere in town

Long-Distance Friendships

As I’ve mentioned, Anne and I don’t live in the same city anymore, so I can’t just text her to ask me to meet for a drink in town. It’s quite sad, but at this point, both of us are in and out of the cities we live in so often that living down the road from one another (in legal terms) would make little to no difference. Being millennial trash, we just meet up in random places around the world. Go figure.

We hit up Ibiza in 2017 and made our way to Barcelona in the first quarter of 2018, where we had the privilege of crashing with Taylor and Ebony. I don’t think I’ve dropped their names on here until just now, so for those of you who don’t know me in person and therefore don’t know this story–we met them in Ibiza. I met up with them for a drink in Boston this past April as well, but I have no photos to prove it, so there won’t be a dedicated blog post. Anne had to sit that one out. Boo.

But let’s go back to that whole long-distance friendship thing. It isn’t ideal, but, as Anne and I briefly touched on in a conversation we had just this afternoon, not seeing each other five times a week is what we need to grow as people and become the kind of friends who could live together without wanting to strangle one another. Not because we have concrete plans to ever live together, but the world is our oyster.

Is there a plant-based alternative to that saying? Asking for a friend.

Edit: Helene commented to point out that I could have just written “The world is our oyster (mushroom).” You can bet your booty I will be using that from now on.

I’ll be the first to admit this is a subpar and pointless photo, but the lighting makes me look deceptively tan (relative to my natural skintone, that is).
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If you think we went into la Sagrada Família, you are sorely mistaken. Anne’s already been inside, I didn’t fancy queueing, and Taylor knew the directions to the nearest bar.

Art and Things

I took a break before writing this section, so I’m not sure how to link it to the previous one or make sure it feeds into the next one, but here we go. I like to pretend I know what I’m doing when I take photos, but to be honest, I just happen to have a great phone and a reasonably consistent way of editing my off-centre photos. Sometimes it works out, most of the time it doesn’t. I empty my Recently Deleted folder a lot.

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Photographic evidence of me waiting for Anne (as a general concept).
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Sometimes I have to remind myself that this is a photo of a wall.


*Or something less cliché-sounding.

As you might have noticed, I bounce around a lot, and to be honest, I’m at an interesting stage at the moment where I’m not sure if that’s how I want to keep living my life. I’m a huge fan of going new places and meeting new people, but I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I want to build a comfortable base for myself. A home, if you will. It’s just a matter of figuring out where I want to do that. I have a few ideas and even though you haven’t asked, I guarantee I’ll keep you in the loop.

It might not be until a few years after I’ve made a decision, but better late.

In the meantime, I’ll bounce around to my heart’s content and make wonderful friends that remind me time and time again why I travel. I wouldn’t have met Anne if it wasn’t for the fact that I up and moved to Glasgow for my undergrad–and we wouldn’t have met Taylor and Ebony if we hadn’t had one too many beers and a stable internet connection on a random February night in 2017.

Somehow a decent photo of all four of us. Still not sure how that happened.

In the words of whichever drunken Irishman Taylor was quoting: “May you be in Heaven a full thirty minutes before the Devil knows you’re dead.” I’ve watched an episode of Peaky Blinders where that exact toast was used, so I assume it’s fairly standard, but I love it all the same.

Until next time (which is supposedly two weeks from now, but when you oscillate between commitment and flakiness like we do, you never know).

– Cat


5 thoughts on “Barcelona

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