Thorn Around the World

Seeing Double In Spain
After a short hiatus, I'm glad to be back writing the Thorn Report! Now, let's see, where was I.oh yeah, loving life in Barcelona, Spain!

Last night was October 18, the thirty-eighth day of my three month journey from the North America to Europe to Central America and back. I was in my ninth country, Spain, chilling for a week in Barcelona. Of course, I had just spent another day touring the city followed by hours and hours of darts on the new board at the George Payne bar, promoting and encouraging the sport. Before the night ended, a new friend named Romo, invited me to stay a night at his vacant apartment on the Mediterranean in Canet de Mar. Caution to the wind, I took this unexpected opportunity to see the Spanish Riviera.

We traveled by train for thirty minutes to Canet de Mar, stopping for some food at Romo's favorite local bistro. After a few beers and slices of pizza, we walked to the apartment, which, just as he said, overlooked a fabulous stretch of palms and sand on the edge of the sleepy Spanish town, tucked between rocky cliffs far off at both ends. The half moon was an epic red orange, and I watched it set from the deck. In the morning, I walked the beach and had my first chance to stick my toes in a new body of water, this time, the famous Mediterranean Sea. After an early continental breakfast of cheese and croissants on the street, Romo and his friend drove me back to downtown Barcelona. How lucky I was to get a chance to see the world's most famous sea. On the drive back, I thought about Palma de Mallorca, the island beyond the watery horizon I would visit in three days, before boarding a ship back to the Americas.

Back "home" at the Sant Jordi hostel I discovered I had a new roommate. His name was Bozkurt, and he was a Turkish filmmaker, visiting Barcelona for inspiration and completing his latest screenplay. We hit it off quickly and soon made plans to tour the city together. And, over the next couple of days, when we weren't sightseeing, I volunteered to help edit his English script!

But, there was still a lot to see that thirty-ninth day. We started off walking to the Sagrada Familia cathedral, a central point for catching the city tour buses. Riding atop the BarcelonaCityTour double decker coach in the open air was a great way to take in the history and architecture. Our first stop was at Park Güell, a sprawling art garden on the back hills of Barcelona, filled with the marvelous mosaic creations of Antoni Gaudi. Panoramic views of the city were everywhere as we walked the labyrinth of trails and stairs to different sculptures and landscaped nooks.

From there, we re-boarded the bus before making several stops at other famous landmarks. We'd get out and wander around for a few minutes at each stop taking pictures of the unique architecture and artistic flavors of Barcelona.
Next, we rolled down to the waterfront, where more sculptures and historical markers shot up in the roundabouts or between the docks and piers.
The tour continued up Montjuïc, the nobby hill near the water that was home to the 1992 Olympics. Besides some more stellar views overlooking the city, it was awesome stepping underneath the Olympic torch and into the stadium where so many memories were made. Of course, I wondered if and when darts will ever be added to the games.

And, of course, later that afternoon, half spent from being a tourist all day, I went to the George Payne to play. Keith and the gang were there to greet me, and it didn't take long to find a handful of new players-on another Sunday afternoon in Europe, the busy bar was packed with football fans in fiesta mode. Another long night of darts and Estrella beer was about to go down.

Day number forty would definitely be a day of rest.

Over and double out.









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