and to begin in the best way we begin with apologia. obviously this was all meant to be extremely current and topical and mostly posted while at the festivals or at least soon after, at the worst after id caught up on some sleep.
it didnt go down that way for many reasons but mostly acos i found little to no reliable internet anywhere we were the whole time we were away (this is a truth, just ask the fucks who were trying to get me to work on unpaid articles for them while i was out there...) and then when i got back i got hit with a cruel deadline for a script. not that cruel as last time i checked i wanted to write films that get made and this was whats happening here so i should shut ma fool mouth.
anyway, this shit is now old, my memory fading but i still wanna write it up from the phone notes cos i still feel like the writing helps me understand what im doing and why(see the first o' these blogs to git that callback).
so
on the sunday night there were meant to be (and were) shows from richard hawley at the arc de triomf just outside our door and from veronica falls etc in a nearby park.
we didnt go. we didnt want to see any more bands.
instead we ate lunch at a terrible, slow as an iceberg, hot as the opposite vege place and wandered, then climbed through a storm up to the peak of montjuic and its beautiful castle.
we didnt talk about bands, we didnt watch bands, we didnt play a song on our phone speakers. im not 100% clear but i may not have even worn a band t-shirt.
we went back for a second round of sweet chinese food and sat on the apartment balcony lazily looking through the heat into other apartment windows, into the exotica of the banality of a foreign land that we've all kinda fallen in love with. the bands are better in barcelona its true (when you choose to watch them). so are the bars (later), the laughter (lasts longer) the sun (shines higher and brighter) and the people (not londoners).
i love barcelona and i dont want to leave.
even now im back.
xm
