Barcelona, Day Two

This is one story in a series of stories that tell about a backpack trip to Europe in the spring of 1976 by myself in an effort to run away from the pain of a broken heart. (To read from the beginning Google "The Ramblings of an Aging Baby Boomer" and go back to March 27th, "I'll Never Find Love Again.")

Thursday, April 1, 1976, Barcelona, Spain

I know I said that I wanted to make this journey through Europe by myself, but I think I made the right decision to travel with Willem and Charles. Charles is so pleasant and easy going. He never gets upset about anything and he treats me so well. He laughs at my silly antics and stupid jokes, and he agrees with everything I say. Willem acts like my protective big brother and seems offended whenever any man approaches me for any reason. He's so quick to jump between me and what he perceives as danger. How fortunate for me that I met them at the airport. I do feel safer with them and I can't imagine what all I would have missed in Paris and here without Willem's tour guiding and encyclopedic brain.  With these guys, this trip is better than I could have imagined, and I get to eat more than once a day--that was a bad idea from the beginning--because they share their food with me. How wonderful is that?

Right decision to travel with Willem and Charles.

This trip is better than I could have imagined.

Willem took this picture of me at the fortress.

But today I do want to go it alone. I need some time by myself. I want to stay close to the hotel, close to my room and think about him, about us, about the mess I've made of things, about the future, our future, if there is one...if it's not too late.

The view from my room, Barcelona