A rebel without a clue.

Girona. End of. Pt.2. Between an alfresco afternoon tapas and wine those boomerang Ray-Ban's returned. Knew I shouldn't fret! If my water bottle could come south of its own motivation I would be complete again! Self made is often ideal, but I am unable to make this of myself. For a tetra prisma Solfrío Gazpacho bring it on! Better than any restaurants made option in the UK. There is a tension between the tomato, bread and olive oil which could make a bleeding Mary? So I popped the cork on the terminal Cahors vin and the last alcohol to touch my lips prior to the next walking section of the pilgrimage. Then a siesta for fragmentation. Woken by Harley Davidson screaming up Ginesta at 5pm. It drags to have the afternoon under the volcano broken by such an arrogant machine. The other thirds of the vin I hope to share out in equal measurements. Some angry Spanish TV opera plays out over the heads of those of us truly detached from another reality. I checked the forecast for Puent...

Girona, you took my glasses! An exchange of goods. My sun glasses; Ray-Ban's roadsters. Gone this morning. I packed up again. More needs washing than is for wearing; I dug out my shorts, worn, and shirt, clean. If they weren't from prior to cornwall 2010 I would be maybe aggreived a little, but they're not essential. What did we do in the sun before shades? A hat. Slip Slop Slap; no mention of sunnies on channel nine! The Polish girl left a facial scrub that my pores were screaming at me to use! My face is polished up a sheen. Dolce Cafè for an espresso that is so thick my spoon defies logic! It's another blue skies day in the heart of Girona. The bustle under the cover of these arched, covered, side walks. All Spain hides before the sun paralyzed open spaces and a Catalan flag hangs sagging nonchalantly in a suggestion of a breeze. With selfless suggestion I set two Canadian darlings feet on the road to Sitges and Sonar free Spain. They flee south and weighed down F...

Na Woke up with the departure of the friendly happy Polish couple at 5am and bravado of a screaming drunk in the Girona early morning dusk. Time for breakfast and my eyes and ears to blown away by the anger inherent in the world currently. 24hr news is absolutely the most depressing symtom of the modern world. Whether is comes across in Catalans or Spanish or English or French it is a fundamental wrong of our society. I wonder what really happens in this world that isn't coordinated for interplay of media. There ain't no such need for a travel report; that man's brains were running from his ears! Sonar in Barcelona. There was once a time I was desperate to attend there, miss kittin et al. Puente la Reina has more ability to appeal to me. People are detached this morning; except Naza. Insular Japanese and fragmented man. The sun is always shining perhaps they forget? Met Edward on the terrace of the hostel last night. He's off on his bike third day running; to us both...