lotsa fun, eh?: DAY FIVE

In the morning sun, I feel tired already of the rush to see all, and opt instead to walk down “Las Ramblas” towards the sea that I'd spotted from atop the Gaudi apartment. Lots of folks there, and boats. A little movie for you, then I take another local bus to Barceloneta, an older area, and then find the stretch of beaches. Aaaaah. The sun is warm; the bench is there; my coat and sweater come off and make pillows for me. I lay face-up to the sun, and can't get up, despite my blathering inner voice that tells me I could have done this in Toronto without spending a fortune on airfare. Still, I lie there. When I finally move, a woman comes rushing over to me, and says “We were photographing you; do you mind lying down again for a little bit?”. It's for a travel/promotion video for Barcelona. What can I say? Now I'm working, right? Nothing wrong with lying in the sun now. “Wake me when you're done”, I say. Before I leave, I give her my email, so when I get the video link, I'll pass it on so y'all can see.

I decide to go to Parc Guell for another (free) Gaudi building. No one tells you that you have to climb a mountain to get there. A huge hill, plus seven (7!!!) escalators later, and I've arrived, panting. Great view, (and a wee movie for your pleasure), but then a downhill (!) trek to the place. Whereupon I discover that it's not free at all (they just started charging about a month ago, according to the cafe guys I spoke with later). Whoops! Missed it. The cafe guys were chatty, and had good food, and I found there, as everywhere, when I said I was from Toronto, if they didn't know the city, they knew the loco mayor (this in England too). Everybody knew about that. Great entry for conversations about corruption, etc., and then I began the descent to go on....

When I discover that the Magic Fountain I have chosen as my next site is closed on Sunday, I remember those Bay/Bloor Radio commercials - 'If ya miss it, ya miss it'. I'm getting very good at applying “lotsa fun, eh?” I have some apple pie, and walk to the hostel. I'm getting a lot of practice using my Spanish with strangers.

That evening, I know exactly where I'm going, and I am determined to sing. I get to the club, 'Jazzsi'; the musicians and singer are fantastic. You can see them in the movie. My name is on the list; I'm first up for the jam. I sing Etta's 'At Last', meaningful in more ways than one, and then Louis Prima's 'Jump, Jive, & Wail' – easy 12-bar for the band, but boy, did they get into it. Fun, fun, fun, and during the solos, I handed my camera to a woman in the audience, so it's all on record. Best ever.