Dinghy excursions and tasty Thais

I really must remember to bring my dinghy next time I go for a walk in this town. I was up in La Sagrera there two days ago for some music and ego-massaging and didn´t the heavens just open and throw down all their dishwater! Poor auld Darren had just hopped on his bike to come and collect me (cos I couldn´t find his house) and although it is less than a minute away by bike he was absolutely saturated by the time he arrived at the playground. Being the lovely person that I am, I exploded with laughter before having the presence of mind to apologise for dragging him out. I played a few tunes on the low whistle as we sheltered in the playground hut with a Pakistani man and a guy from Peru before finally braving the deluge to run down to his house.

We had a great time with Gordon drinking far more than we should have and bashing away at a variety of instruments of which my probably most annoying favorite is the glass with forks. Upon being fed a delicious green Thai curry, we were spoiled further with icecream and brandy coffees, and before I knew it, it was 2.30am and I still wasn´t home. I didn´t even have a jacket.

I made it to the bus stop with a borrowed red umbrella, but already my ankles were surrounded by swirling water. Unbeknownst to us, the metro station was already flooded, and Darren commented on the funny little river that seemed to be coming from it. My bus came soon though, near-empty thank god, and when I got out on the Ramblas, there was a veritable waterfall decending upon all and sundry. Some poor French lad tried to buy the battered umbrella which I should have sold him cos I only went and lost it anyway, but he should have been able to see that it was futile anyhow. I dragged my feet all the way down the street trying not to lose my shoes in the angry currents. I laughed manically all the way too, and soon had an entourage of bemused and charmed locals wondering what the hell was going on and testing my Spanish. Which is still crap, by the way.

The rain here has been amazing and terrible in the havoc it has wrecked, particularly in rural areas. Even the beach in Barcelonetta was flooded, but down the country people were killed and the telly shows countless overturned cars in the most unusual of places. Interestingly, I couldn´t read anything about it in BBC World News as they were too busy discussing Bloody Thatcher´s birthday. When is that old hag going to put herself out of our misery and just keel over?

In any case, I set out today with a mission: I was going to buy a pyrex dish so that I could make potatoe-y goodness and Shoven in the Oven, I was going to buy shoes that don´t leak, and a pair of trousers. I came home with bag full of potatoes, feta cheese, cider, grapefruit juice and chickpeas. At least I didn´t go to IKEA I suppose, the blackhole that sucks the life from you, but not before it has extracted your lifesavings from your bank account...

I had a great time bopping to French Circus music (with the cat) and cooking dinner before I finally had to admit I was working the graveyard shift and head into work. But I have a life, honest! Not only did I have TWO visitors today, but tomorrow I´m off to see Wallace and Gromit! In English! At the cinema-near-the-flooded-beach-that-I-don´t-know-the-name-of-and-that-I-have-never-been-to-but-that-I-will-find-goddammit! So there!