The Pyrenees to Barcelona

The electronic music festival was pretty funky. We got there a little late, probably with about 2 hours of the thing left to go, and the DJ´s that were on at the time were, well, lets just say they were experimental. They were producing live, and the tunes lack a lot of consistency and it felt like they were just kinda "Ooh, press that button!". However they finished their set about half an hour later, and the next (and final) group were much better. Kind of like ambient electro. The whole thing was in a park along the main river in Toulouse, and it was basically hippy central. Apparently they´re not called hippies over here, but take that vision you have at home of the quintessential hippy and you´re pretty much on. Most of them have dogs too. The interesting thing about this is that the dogs are rarely on a leash, however they all get along really well. No bitch fights here!

The other interesting thing is that the French don´t really care what happens. The toilets (known as water closets) were a fair way off, so all of the French guys just use the massive brick wall that runs along the side of park. They care so little in fact, that there were people sitting on the grass not more 20 meters from this pissing wall who didn´t bat an eyelid. Well, I´d had a few beers by this point, and when in Rome...

Following the electronic music festival we went to the main square (Capitol) where we were treated to an orchestra of the finest quality. This orchestra was big, so much so that it comprised of no less than 2 harps. A lot of orchestra´s I´ve seen in the past struggle to have one. It was a great combination of classical music, some which I was familiar with, and other compositions not so much. There were no less than ten thousand people all crammed into the square to watch this spectacle, which included acrobatics of trampoline, juggling and one guy who sort of twisted and turned on this crescent moon thing. It was quite amazing to see, as he would hold onto some bars and extend himself fully out horizontally without the slightest shudder. This dude had abs. He was about to just gracefully move himself around, upside down, wherever without a hint of effort. It was like his little moon thing was in zero gravity, and I´m sure that was the intention.

We were even treated to a small scuffle than started out between an older chap who clipped a younger lad around the back of the head for making too much noise. This was quickly broken up by all around; oh those fiesty French!

The next day Christian and Heather treated us to a drive through the Pyrenees in their car which they´d picked up the previous evening. The hills and such were interesting, and a good change of scenery from all of the cities we´d seen so far. Unfortunately the day wasn´t the clearest, but the low hanging coulds made for some good sights. My camera really didn´t do them justice.

The excursion included a walk around a little lake hugged by the hills, along one side which was quite challenging and rocky. The result of this was that Heather went tumbling down one side of the hill, headed straight toward the lake, however managed to stop her acrobatics just before the big splashing finale. What was most surprising was even though this somersault was along a bunch of very uncomfortable looking rocks, she stood up without a scratch! A little shaken to be sure, but it was good that she remained unharmed. After hauling her back up to the path, we finished the walk and returned to the relative safety of driving our way around the hills rather than trekking them. I say relatively, as the roads themselves weren´t short of hazards themselves. Between the impossibly skinny width which resolved in very slow car passing so as to not scratch ones vehicle against one side, or more importantly not to roll it down the other, to the variety of bovines that were littered around the place chewing their cud. Most of them had the sensibility to stay off the asphalt, but occasionally one would meander across the path oblivious to the danger of that strangely shaped metal bull barreling straight towards it. Thankfully we didn´t end up attempting the ultimate cow tip with our car, and we got a few interesting photos of the white creatures milling around the grass. There were hundreds about the place, and each had a cowbell around their neck. This is one part of the country where I needn´t reiterate Christopher Walken , as with the cacaphony of noise, there was definitely no need for more cowbell.

The whole drive went quite well, and upon returning home we polished off a few bottles of wine and played some cards.

The next day saw us boarding a train for Barcelona. The first couple hours of the journey were as uneventful as any train ride, however upon reaching Spain and having to change to a Spanish train, things turned a bit more more interesting. It was a mix of backpackers and general Spanish folk hopping on and off which saw the train getting more and more full the closer we got to the city. It was at one point that the guy next to me got up to give his seat to two older ladies, who gave that recently vacated position to who I imagine must have been a grandson/son. He was a little Spanish kid no more than a couple feet high, and seeing his mother was standing he squashed up as close as he could to me so that his mother could share the seat as well. I think she was a bit concerned that I might take offence and tried to urge him to sit properly in the seat, but he was a cute kid, and I assured her that he wasn´t bothering me, although I did move my ipod to the other knee in case he got curious and decided he wanted to mash some buttons. His grandmother sat down and he spent the next half an hour propping himself up and down on my leg trying to look out the window, and the whole thing was quite funny.

Upon arriving to Barcelona the feel changed from France very quickly. I really like this city and I haven´t even been here for 24 hours yet. Any words I´d been told about the Spanish not being any friendlier than the French are outright lies as far as I´m concerned, and I´ve enjoyed the atmosphere quite a lot. We checked out the Australian pub just to see what it was like, and I can confirm that Foster´s overseas doesn´t taste too bad at all. It was very bland compared to all the Belgian beer I´ve been drinking recently, but it was a nice refreshing lager in the Barcelonian heat. It´s kind of like Carlton Cold, but with a bit less bite if that makes any sense. I look forward to trying it when I get back to Oz to see if it´s the same.

We had some late night dinner, as is the custom over there, and after depositing Lisa back in the hostel who was getting tired, Ian and I went to another bar and met up with a couple of American girls with whom we spent the remainder of the open hours of the night. We got kicked out of the last joint about 3:30, and headed back home.

I am very keen to check out the rest of this city, and expect that I am going to enjoy it very much. In other news, the Parisian photos are up.