“Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
Unheeded warnings I thought I thought of everything
No navigator to guide my way home
Unladened, empty and turned to stone”
— Pink Floyd —
An unusual calmness reigns at El Prat Airport at midnight. A few people staring at you make you understand that you should leave the premises soon so everyone can make it back home to enjoy the Barcelona sunrise, accompanied by a good cup of coffee and xuixos.
I make my way back home as fast as I can. The taxi driver brings me up to date with the latest weekly developments in the City of Counts. This is still Barcelona, part of Spain. Quietly I open my apartment’s door as the two ladies are asleep. I check that the plants have enough water to survive next day, and I jump into bed. It’s already: Friday I am in love! Read the rest of this article…