Spain is hot. It is hot and dry and the only thing I love is the graffiti that covers it. There are tourists everywhere and I resent being one of them, but the tapas is great. The water is cool and I listen to a jazz band on the beach - the drummer used to play with John Coltrane. I meet an amazing blonde Swedish man who has been traveling in a van with his dog and living in caves.
I spend two days alone in Granada, visiting the baths and having gin and tonics with a likeminded woman. I wander the Alhambra grounds and sleep in a beautiful hotel. It is bliss and I am alone.
I visit family in Alicante and swim in their pool and drink lots of tea while talking about what my grandpa was like when he was young. There are palm tress. It is like an oasis in the desert.
In Barcelona, Di and I stay with a wonderful couple in their bohemian apartment on a mattress on the floor and a rooftop that looks over El Borne. We go to the beach and eat good food and smile and have a week of interesting conversation.
I learnt so much in Spain. I always thought people said that as a compromise to saying “I had such a bad time” but now I understand. I had opportunities to change my path and when I didn’t take them the universe hurled more and more abuse at me until I understood that one must follow their own path, even if it means hurting someone else. Because otherwise, you’ll hurt them anyway later, and yourself too. It’s the non-judgement it should be done with that is such a challenge and I was wondering how the universe was going to kick my ass for being so inept at it. It seems like such a simple lesson but I learnt it over and over again; a friend clarifies it as “recognition and detachment”. I feel she is a genius even though it seems like such a clear truth.