Barcelona, Day Five

Day five in Barcelona was hardly in Barcelona at all. It was a travel day, which normally wouldn't merit an entire blog post, except for two things.

One. Today was the third time I met a couple from Missouri. They were on my Tarragona/Sitges tour, my Montserrat tour, and the flight to Heathrow directly before mine. By now it was getting just a little ridiculous, and they probably thought I was stalking them, but the husband always knew where the nearest coffee shop was, so he and I were quick friends.

Two. Everything that could go wrong, nearly did today. When I'm overly stressed or emotional, I write to get it out of my system, so I have a poem for you.

November 13th

Please be as express as you profess.

You see--It's been a long day--I've got a train

To catch, and a paper--but I digress.

Who closes Heathrow tube on a Sunday, anyway?

Closures, seizures, bombs--all occurring, all a pain.

Sure, I'll follow signs. Did I want to live today?

I'll never make this train, you know,

But London's all right, I guess. Mostly sane,

Except the tube. But I've six lectures to go,

So I've got to get back home.

Fly, train, fly. Don't wait but drive.

Don't let me panic anymore. Deliver me, deliver me back home.

Basically, the express from Heathrow didn't leave as quickly as I would have liked, and this happened.