Breath-Taking Art

Hola! Arriving into the airport of a city one has never seen is always an exhilarating experience. Each city affects the senses uniquely with different smells, sights, sounds, tastes and feels. When I walked out the airport and saw the palm trees it reminded me of walking out the airport in Florida with the breeziness although the whiffs of cigarettes in and out of the airport reminded me of my trip to Italy where non-smoking laws are non-existent. The cab driver was an elderly man who was quite flattering and kept asking about my relationship status (this I am assuming by hand gestures and limited understanding of Spanish).

This is Europe, where the falling dollar (poor currency) gives Americans the distinct feeling of limited spending power. I have graced this land with my presence (don't you love the vanity) to attend the EuroMeeting for the Drug Information Association. My hotel is along a main thoroughfare, La Rambla, which at night is brimming with activity. The first night there were groups of drunk singing Irish men along the street who were having a good “craic” (look it up). Also along the way, there was living and breathing art. It is always amazing the creativity that humanity exhibits and all that we can do with our bodies. There were the statues as still as concrete. The evil gargoyle or bat scared the heck out of me. It went still and folded several minutes and POW! came fully stretched.

There were other interesting sites (animal stalls with chickens, ducks, pigeons, canaries, rabbits, gerbils, and such in the city--I guess they like their little pets) to see but tired was I. Jet lag began its decent with the wonderful anticipation of waking up in the middle of the night, which is right when I am writing this blog. Don't you love it!