I know, two long blogs in a day is excessive posting but the last one was behind the times. Although things have moved on a bit, I'm quite pleased that I can stick to my initial impressions; I'm in a good place.
I think in Russia I posted a blog called something like "Up and Running" after a couple of weeks and I could well have said the same again here. When I wrote (most of) that last spiel, things were not up and they were not running. I had barely moved in to my new flat, I didn't know my flatmates, I was still getting used to things at work, I didn't know my way around or where I'd be spending most of my time, I had no internet, TV, football, gym.. Now, though, things are a bit more like normal life. I'm becoming quite used to this whole situation of settling in to a new place after this year abroad. I suppose that's a good thing.
So, of those things what has changed the most? Well the flat situation is a lot more normal now. I live with an Argentinian man Mauro, an Argentinian lady called either Natasha or Natalia (it isn't a rubbish effort that I don't know - she's universally known as Nati so it could be either) and two Spanish ladies, Carla and Sarah. They're all perfectly pleasant and I probably spend more time with Mauro and Carla than the other two, mainly because they're closer to my age. TV and Internet are in, as is my newly-purchased fan (everyone knows I don't go long without one of those). As living arrangements go this is very acceptable and the only minor negative is just that knowing you have to speak Spanish at work, out and about and at home is a little bit intense.
Work fluctuates between being very entertaining and very boring depending on the day. Today, for example, I just uploaded properties to various property sites and translated descriptions and captions on photos into both English and Russian. Luckily, that's not one of the very entertaining days. Four hours of that is more than enough of that. Yesterday, par contre, was a lot more fun. Being the only English speaker and Russian speaker in the building means I do sometimes get some extra bits of work, for example mediating deals about listing properties on sites in return for X Y Z (just a little bit of Z after I've finished negotiating...) and other such things, sometimes by phone and sometimes just email. That's kind of more fun because it's people based and so on. But the best yet was yesterday morning when, for the first time, I had to speak with a genuine property buyer. I guess I'm not meant to say too much about customers but it was a lot of fun talking to someone about what luxury properties they might be able to get within their (very substantial) budget. Hopefully this will repeat itself because it does beat photo captions.
Enough on work, because in truth that's 20 out of 168 hours in my week. Afternoons are fairly rigidly gym / swim time because my membership (20 euros per month, strong) only lets me in between 3-5. After that, though, I've been fairly free to enjoy the offerings of Barcelona. That includes a bit of tapas and bar time, as well as extensive World Cup watching and plenty of visits to Ed and Sarah and Juan and co.
Weekends are quite special, almost entirely because you can just pop to the beach. Just like that. It is delightful. You take some food and drink and a ball, forget your suncream and then lounge on the sand / in the sea for several hours. Later, you return home very content and a very bright shade of red. It'll be tan by tomorrow...
In the evenings you can go to the bars and clubs of the city, which are relatively good although, as I might've mentioned before, a little tainted by the night-time grime and crime (nice rhyme) on La Rambla in the later hours. On that note, I think I accidentally accepted a drug deal the other day. A man said something to me from a dark corner, I didn't hear and being polite and English I just gave the old casual nod of the head back and then when he said "you do?" I somehow clocked what he had said before and realised that I was on the verge of taking his offer.
This blog is getting rather long but a story definitely worth telling is from our stroll the other day along Gran Via, when we witnessed a genuinely shocking situation. I'll set the scene. The central part of the street is pedestrianised and wide enough for many people. However at one point there were indeed many people and therefore only quite a small gap between two groups through which anyone faster-moving could fit. With unfortunate timing, two such faster-moving people (a jogger of around 50 and a skateboarder of around half that), heading in opposite directions, saw the gap and aimed for it. Luckily it widened enough that there was very, very minimal contact. No issue. The jogger didn't even flinch and carried on his merry way. The skateboarder wobbled slightly (because that's what skateboards do) but did not carry on his merry way in any sense. He turned, looking more angry than any man ever has, and started chasing after this innocent jogger. We immediately agreed it was going to be funny to watch and we should wait for a minute. We did wait for a minute, but it was less funny that we had hoped. Instead of remonstrating a bit like a normal person, this skater ran skated up behind the jogger, who was waiting to cross the road at a red light, and punched him, closed fisted, in the back of the head, knocking him to the floor. Once he was on the floor, he proceeded to hit him repeatedly with his board. The reaction of both the jogger and the Barcelonians was seriously impressive, though. The jogger, passers-by, people on their balconies, people in cars and so on all started shouting "policía", whistling, beeping horns and whatever they could think of to get help. I fear they may have done too much. With no exaggeration whatsoever, 4 police motorbikes, 3 police cars and one foot patrol were called in to deal with this one angry man. It may have been bad, but that was a bit of an overreaction. That's the end of the story.
Anyway, I have to say that with the hot and sunny weather, perfectly acceptable work, pleasant people around me and plenty of ways and time to enjoy myself, as well as a couple of necessary trips planned to France in August, I stick to my last line from my last blog. There aren't many better ways to spend a summer than this.
Hasta luego
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