A donde el corazon se inclina, el pie camina.

To where the heart is inclined, the feet will walk. 

As I was looking for the saying 'home is where the heart is' in Spanish, I found the translation to the phrase on it's own is much more beautiful. Gotta love the momentum and truth in it too, the feet will walk.  I remember my friend once described me as a globe wanderer, which I very much like the way she puts it. And since I decided to stay in London, I pretty much felt like I have burnt the bridges and there's no going back.. (papa if you see this, I must admit it's true.)  and home is somewhere still in search.

It's my second last day in Barcelona, and I can tell you honestly, I have only seen what I am here to see in the past two three days. Everywhere crowded with tourists, my gut feeling told me this is not the people
who call Barcelona home.. 

Today I went back to an area I believe it's called El Born Barrio, (I have no clue cause I was only backtracking where my friend took me to, which took me a few wrong turns and reappearing at the same block a few times..)
It's a lovely area with beautiful buildings and cute little shops.

And the people.
I met the people here. Shame that I couldn't speak to them, but they spoke to me.

An old man arriving at his front door, clearing the litter gathered at the concave beam (a gothic design detail, forgive my ignorance to not know what it's called..) with his walking stick.

Guy in t-shirt and shorts and a camera, holding canned dog food talking to a homeless person and his dog. Sitting on a bench, engaging in an conversation that involves laughter, patting the adorable pet
and glowing faces on both of them.

And the artist in the photo above. He was in his own little world. I remember seeing him cheerfully showing others his artwork last time when I was here. I admire his little studio space at a corner of the street. As I walked pass, something inside me started stirring. I would love to show him my admiration, if only I have the words to tell him and to receive the things he has to tell me.. I would.




Ahh, I don't know how to end this post..
let me look at the title again,

To where the heart is inclined, the feet will walk.

Ahh, yess.
The people who call Barcelona home, whether it's on the street or an apartment with a sweet little terrace,
they must feel attached and decide to stay.
I believe one day I will find somewhere I feel responsible to take good care of, and stay.
As one is in search of the place one's heart desires to settle, keep walking.

el mar

Before typing this post, I poured a glass of Sangria to get myself ready to open my email a/c for the first time in a week.. no surprises and numbers don't matter.

This trip is smacked right in the middle of work and stuff.  The minute I know about the things that are gonna happen or needa happen while I'll be away, I reckon it's the best time to have some time on my own. It's a detoxing thought to know your insignificance ('things will be fine when your gone') and significance ('we will wait till you come back to work on it, we need you.'), or simply put, it is an escape.

With tourist-filled Barcelona, I am pressured to go somewhere, do something, go see something worthwhile. With the hindrance of language, I find it hard to understand the etiquette and therefore don't do coffee as much as I would like to. (I don't compromise going to chains).  It turns out that being at the seaside, or even while commuting, is when I am completely zone out.

There's something about the open sea.
' I still wish I can breathe under water.'
Get me a red cap and a speedo, and I will live the life aquatic.

 

 

dos besos

two kisses.

My adventure has taken me a little bit outside of Barcelona to see a friend at his town. I can still recall what his dad said to my friend when we first met each other, ' you've always said to give your friends the two kisses and this time I am not gonna do it..' I was giggling inside cause the way he said it sounds a bit like a grumpy kid running away from kissing an overexcited wrinkly granny.

This is the first time, meeting new friends with an well-understood greeting and I am loving it. Without the confusion of handshakes and awkward hugs, I actually feel like I can call those who I have given the dos besos my friends even though we've only met once. Maybe not as far as giving them my bank details, but when they say 'you should come to my party!' or 'give me a call if you wanna hangout!' (usually with much enthusiasm too) I feel more bonded to say yes or to give out my number.

I am a girl and I try not to overdo it but analyzing things is in my nature (I know some boys do it too), and with zillion ways to greet someone, it's gonna get me tossing and turning every night. what does a props and lock mean? what about a head nod? One kiss on the cheek? A high five? A hug? I suppose it is when we try to weigh appropriateness and intimacy at the same time, then fail, then made it ambiguous, then made things awkward.


The solution to this issue is rather personal and up to preference, therefore I have scraped what I have typed up. When I get to think about it, maybe awkwardness is a greeting in itself, too!



'There's a saying says ''whatever true thing you say about India, the opposite is also true..'' ' - Derek Sivers

una

 

Lone traveling .

Did I plan to or did I not? Either way I am enjoying my own company .
As much as I am loving it, it's hard to avoid an awkward business: dining alone .

Every time I walk past an Al-fresco, looking at couples or cheerful groups cheet-chatting away over gourmets, something inside me die little by little..

Leaving me gutted, munching on meals I make at my apartment while burying my head in books,  I suppose it's not the mouth-watering experience that makes me picturing myself in my head reeling back in a heartbroken manner, it's more of the romantic side of Barcelona's social scene I feel like I'm missing out. 

I might have found a solution to not-getting lost ( jot down the street names I have ventured to keep track..) 
Sadly, there seems to have no solution to this issue.. Maybe next time, I shall travel with an intelligent poodle like John Steinbeck or better yet, travel with a partner.

Note: Found comfort doing lunch at a lovely restaurant on my own, joining me were other lone-diners. They bring their papers and books with them, just like me. problem solved. I guess it's just a case of finding the right place with nice ambiance (usually bright places work rather well).
Lunch menu are often the best deal, too! 3 course lunch for 10 Euro #Hola  

Go me! 

:)

On Thursday.

I went to Rachel Whiteread's Exhibition at Tate Britain.
It was showing her drawings and sketches of her sculpture work, which she was famous for.
I love it very much. I was looking at drawings on graph paper, smiling.

There are sentiments which I share with the artist.
For instance, 'Study of the floor', I totally get it!
I remember I used to stare at the wooden floor at my grandma's place,
and study the pattern of it, noted every little holes and cracks,
which I still do sometimes...

I enjoy every minute when I was at the exhibition :)
staring at little correction fluid traces, dribble across the paper.
love it. make sure you check it out too!