Please Vote Correctly

That is all that I ask of you at this time.

Much has happened in the last few days. For one, I turned 35. Was that yesterday? The day before? See, already, I am losing my memory.

We´re in Barcelona.

This morning, Miguel and I went swimming in the Olympic swim center located in the heart of Montjuic. This was a much needed respite because I am beginning to feel the effects of no strenuous exercise. I thought it was just aging, but Miguel dragged me to the pool, and now I am feeling much better. The center is a beatiful facility with indoor and outdoor pools. Outside, there are gardens with pathways. The Fundacio Joan Miro is just a ten minute walk away. There are other exercise facilities in the center as well, and by first glance, it´d be easy to think, wow, what a fit city. Then we went upstairs to the cafeteria, and of course, we had to look hard for the non-smoking section.

After swimming, we went to the Funcacio Joan Miro, so far my favorite museum thus far, though it was only the second one. Yesterday, we got to see an upclose look at Gaudi architecture and interior design. I took lots of photos of all, which reminds me, maybe you´re wondering why there aren´t any photos here. Well, that´s because it turns out that to upload photos onto the site, I need to download some special freebie software, which I cannot do in these Internet cafes. So you´ll have to wait. I´ve been postponing telling you this for fear of losing my audience. I thought maybe if I could put off telling you the truth, you´d keep me company.

Okay, back to why it´s so important to vote correctly. Well, they don´t like us out here that much. The entire world´s future rests on this election. I´m somewhat uncomfortable, especially here in this Pakistani owned Internet Cafe. Miguel and I voted before we left, by the way. Miguel says I worry way too much.

Another highlight of this trip was meeting Maria, Martine, and Amandine Bisauta. One question was answered, anyway, that that is my great-grandfather Antonio had a brother named Salvador. Salvador went to France while Antonio went to California. Martine is his great-granddaughter. But one mystery remains unsolved, and that is, what the heck happened in that bar? Maybe I was expecting too much? Was it unreasonable for me to think that Maria (who married Raymond, grandson of Salvador) would know the complete story?

Maria showed me a picture of her husband Raymond, who unfortunately passed away thirteen years ago yesterday. He bears some resemblence to my father, particularly in the earlobes. I just notice these things. They´re honkin´ huge (you should see my dad´s, that´s why I can say this). He was also a photographer and she said their house was filled with piles and piles photographs of sporting events. Hmmm.

It was a wonderful visit. The three of them drove all the way from Toulousse to Barcelona just to meet us. This day was also my birthday, and as you can imagine, it was quite special to me. I only have a few seconds of Internet time left so more later.

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About katiekelly

I grew up in a parking lot.
This entry was posted in Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Please Vote Correctly

  1. serge Bisauta
    31 rue de la colombette
    31000 Toulouse
    France
    05 61 63 88 76
    06 17 93 66 26

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