"i am sitting in my room in london smiling to myself. after leaving my friends in spain i travelled and nearly got lost on the way back from barcelona to luton because i thought i was god of spanish (and realizing the barcelonetans speak catalan) when i actually only know how to say "tickets?", "here?", "there" and "please." after finally figuring out the train system and arriving back in london, feeling all pleased about myself, i realised i missed a connection because i thought it was one day later.

so now i have to figure out how to get to lyon and then la plagne from here in the next 24 hours. so instead of fretting about it, i decide to waste time in front of the computer."

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the parts when you're alone always threaten to upset the entire balance. i know i asked for this, i know i wanted some time alone, but not this much! every coach ride, 4, 7, 10 hours imperils my sanity as the mind wanders over previously sanitised parts of the brain. my neighbours are back home. most of my friends are in singapore. the remainder is spread out over parts of europe being back for christmas or skiing. once i get moving again (in 2 hours time, maybe), i know i'll feel alive again, but i can't stand this waiting. especially when there's no one to bitch to. in 24 hours! i will see people other than the ticket girl again!

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i should put up pictures, especially of the friendly people in barcelona. perhaps when i return from france. when i actually walked down the hill i missed a hostel for once. maybe because it was that it was eons away from civilization and a painful climb every time i returned. but it was not just the location but the defiance of the place. people with one form of disability or another continuing their life (at least outwardly) happily and with joie de vivre. and i enjoyed being around them because i didn't have to worry, and they couldn't seem to care less about the world.