BCN.Franca - ZUR.HB

Next Stop.

On the other hand, Barcelona was much more cool, less pretentious and seriously laid back. You'd be hard pressed to imagine that we're so close to the old man and his sledge. I did not spot a single Christmas tree and the street vendors were busy shouting their usual football badges, flowers, puppets and celebrity pencil drawings. The shop windows are a designer-shoes extravaganza, the tourists numb in their pic-fever, the cranes busy as ever over the unfinished church and the locals cool as cucumbers. For me, a kebab at lunch time with a friend from Bahia was the best hour of the day. Sounds lame but hey, friends are above shoes and sightseeing right? Right?

                        

Reindeer Everywhere!

The overnight train from Lisbon to Madrid was lovely. The jerky dancing on the rails, the on-off process with endless stops and the firm little bed made the trip seamless. And what I loved most were the rubbery canned mushrooms, pink tubes impersonating sausages and yellowy jelly with the smell of eggs. The black liquid wasn't bad either. I'd do it again.

But Madrid in December I'm not so sure. The city is marvellous, but there was only one word in my head: Queues! The bank-holiday did not help I suppose, the almost cannibalistic tourists around the museums were less than funny, the always frenetic shopping safari of the season a further hindrance and the once-a-year opening of the parliament to the public was verging on the ridiculous. But the thing that really baffled me was an old lady, Doña Manolita. The Christmas national lottery comes under that name I believe and the queueing for one of her magic tickets were the surprise of the year for me.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the city is dressed for the festive season, a bit over the top maybe, and half the population wears silly Reindeer caps. I bought two!

                    

Drowned in Lisbon.

Lisbon was the next stop. A city that I loved the first time round and the one that I wouldn't get the chance to enjoy on this trip. The weather was appalling and the steep, narrow cobble-streets are lethal traps. The spirits were still high of course, especially at the cafe with the apt name "A Brasileira". I hadn't seen someone holding an umbrella underneath one of these huge table umbrellas, just to have a smoke and a coffee in the cataclysm. And I thought I was serious with my C&C.

Anyway, the main point is that by now a plan was devised. A long detour around Europe by train solely. Ok, and one bus and one ferry. From the Atlantic to the Ionian Sea and then a flight (the only one) to Christmas.