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Spain, Catalunya, Barcelona

Barcelona El Prat to Stansted - 0 km - Sunday 19th April 2009

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We caught Cercania trains to get to the airport. Our Easyjet flight from Barcelona (El Prat) to Stansted was uneventful. The drive home was pleasant in early spring sunshine. The high pressure over England means that the low pressure systems go south. This explains the poor weather we had in Spain.


The return journey was uneventful. Jessica or her mum came to lock up the flat after our departure. Also to make sure everything was OK. We had tidied up and swept the worst of the dust off the floor and stripped the beds. Jessica had tried to persuade her Mum not to bother and let us leave the door briefly locked on the Yale but she wasn't happy doing this.

It was nice to meet her and we had a nice little chat using a mixture of English and Spanish. She had lived in Brighton for a while. She also mixed in a little French and I asked if this was to get us ready for crossing the border. She then said she spoke English, Spanish, Italian and French and a bit if Catalan. Ah I said Una mica Catalá.

I am disappointed that I picked up so little Catalan but that too is because we travel very light and no longer have rest days or a siesta up the mountain in the middle of the day. In the past I would have taken my Teach yourself Catalan book with me and spent a little time each day learning some either at home or up the mountain. With a proper rucksack and not the healthy backpack I have now you can carry much more without noticing it.

We then went to the airport by our chosen route Arc de Triomf and El Clot. We arrived very early and I found some wine for Julie.

We went to see Mini on our way back and showed her our pictures. She spotted that Neil had not taken his new hat she gave him for Christmas. Will she spot that I am using my old bum bag?

Thing that cropped up this fortnight ...

Torticolis and courants d'air.
Crise de foie

Mas means chez at the house of
Can means farm

These two words appear on both sides of the border but there are no Catalan notices in France outside the station precinct.

The French are quite touchy about their language and like everyone else to use it especially when the alternative is English. No one has yet said Perfide Albion or asked me why burnt Joan of Arc. No doubt it is just a matter of time.

Do up buttons for nuns.

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