The Boy and The Coconut Tree

It could be said that I have had more comebacks than Cher and maybe that is true and maybe I have more comebacks and swansongs left in me yet,who nows, we should never set ourselves limits, they never work, humans, especially me, are always destined to push boundaries, limits, bend rules and test the waters a little. Its in my DNA and it is the way I was raised (thank you to my parents who have taught me never to feel too sorry for myself and have taught me that I am never alone!) So I returned to England 38 days ago and the jury is still out on my decision. I am sad to not be in Barcelona but I am happy not to be in Barcelona at the same time.  Barcelona for me was like having a whirlwind romance with the most handsome man in the world, I fell headfirst, I ignored his flaws, I ignored my own weaknesses and masked over the cracks with a smile and hoped the sunshine and latin/catalan atmosphere would sweep me up. It sure did then often dumped me on the rocks. If I had been 24...

 It has been so long since I wrote in my blog. I was trying to find the specific reason/ or reasons for not writing and I have none. Life is what happened. Barcelona life has swept me up in her arms and I am living it. I rarely had time to write a blog when I lived in London and the same goes for Barcelona. It has been 9 months today since I arrived and I've now got into a stride which I didn't expect and I am no longer looking for the exit sign. That has to be good. What is also happening is I am learning a lot about myself, even at 44 there is a lot to learn. I gave my life a mini audit over Christmas. I realized what was important and what wasn't. I've learned to worry about the people who worry about me and nothing more. I've learned to enjoy the things that life throws my way and not worry about the things I am missing. We are masters of our own destiny and I feel I am more of a master than most. Early evening looking to Mount Tibidabo, March 7 ...

I began writing about Catalonia   in June 2013 when I first arrived and have met many Catalans since then, people from both sides of the political spectrum and what I am sensing now, 10 months later, is an increasing sense of frustration, anger and possibly worse.   One thing I have learned from my many travels is never to get involved in the politics or political debate of the country that happens to be my host at that time. Australian politics never interested me, it is democracy, it works, and the political debate is rough and ready and similar to the politics of my home country. The USA was more complex and there always seemed to be more division and anger between opposing sides. If I said the wrong thing, or liked the wrong president then I could be ostracized as happened at a cocktail party in Boston in 2000 when I commented on how good Clinton had been and how GW Bush made me shudder. I am sure historians will back me up one day. In Vietnam, political debate or...