a touch of familiarity goes a long way...
like green juices!
we went to a place called teresa carles,
a vegetarian spot.
we walk in and the first language i hear is korean.
and everyone looks like they live in bk.
felt like my 'hood.
and i liked it!
mushroom/coconut meat/seaweed/avocado ceviche, 5 stars
melon/ginger/cheese cold soup, 3 stars [too gingery and liquid-y]
mini burgers and fries, 5 stars
eggplant mille feuille, 5 stars
it was a delicious slice of nyc
and because gaudi was such a hit yesterday,
a second date was quickly arranged for the early evening...
casa mila [check out the statues on top. you'll never guess which one spotty is]
cool finds in the casa mila gaudi gift shop
and then cerveceria catalana for tapas - you were right shari...
probably the best tapas ive had.
gracias for the rec!
the calamari. meh. can majo's calamari melted like butter so its a tough dish to follow...
spotty's still sloshy.
think shoestring fries with runny eggs broken up and mashed around all up in the potatoes.
lemon cream cake. spotty is now spooning as he fades...
the magic fountain
believe it.
so all day i was poking fun at myself for being such a tourist.
i carry the bible-thick spain fodor's guide with me,
ornamented with post-it tabs and dog-ears,
under my arm or under my nose.
i also bust out the spanish language guide on occasion.
i pretty much look like a dorky tourist.
*cut to scene of minna looking up at casa batllo reading the fodor's guide description aloud to gina assuming she is interested*
and tonight on the way home from the magical water fountain show,
i almost got pick-pocketed.
my nose in my fodor's book,
looking up info about the magic fountain and montjuic,
i step into the subway car
and some young looking blonde dude starts to say something over my shoulder
to someone he knows i assume
i glance over briefly and as my eyes come to rest back at the person in front of me
i notice that punk-ass trying to sly his hand into my unopened bag.
i punch his stupid-arm away and i hear gina yell, "HEY!!"
i know, i know.
i was the perfect target.
i was reading by my massive guidebook,
my bag was unzipped,
and i was distracted by his tactic of yelling over my shoulder.
luckily,
i wasn't a victim...
boy,
i am SUCH a tourist.
on the ride back to our place,
i replayed the scene with dramatic revisions:
1. i grab his wrist and twist it so hard it breaks and i push him off the train as i spit in his face yelling profanities
2. i punch him in his face and jump off the car while i shove him to the ground and beat the crap out of him
3. he runs with my wallet and i chase after him, tackle him to the ground, and cause a great big scene with yelling and kneeing him into the dirty subway floor until the cops arrive and cuff his ass
and all the while,
i kept intercepting my thoughts with wonderings about how compassion would come into play..
"what would the Dalai Lama have done?" kept coiling around these unproductive playbacks...
the experience spooked me a bit.
i kept my hand on my bag for the rest of the ride home.
im grateful to have experienced pick pocketing in this way...
must be more mindful...and keep my eyes open.
speaking of keeping my eyes open,
my friend allison sent me and gina off on this trip with some love:
thank you, friend.
in case you were wondering,
yes,
this trip shreds ;)
besos
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment