Barcelona, Spain

I feel like a homing pigeon here. I cannot get lost. The mornings are crisp enough, though it's humid and the sun doesn't rise until nearly eight. Yesterday was last night and this morning and more all together and my body has no idea what time it is. But I got enough rest to rise around six thirty and go to the bus station to greet Eric, en route from Toulouse, France. I stepped in dog shit firm enough not to cake to my soles; it is a good day.
We're trying to figure out how to get a drum set to the venue tonight. It will be my first show here in Spain, or out of America for that matter. It's still not set in. Last night we went to a show off Las Ramblas, the destination for wayward youth, acrobats and bunk hashish. The show was really good. The first act was a five piece, local, who are friends with the wonderful folks putting me up here. A sort of la-la-la good times pop outfit with just enough edge for me to want to drink my four euro beer quickly so i could shake it up. I avoided the white guy overbite though (try it in the mirror, you'll see what i mean). Afterward an American act played, a three piece from Alabama I believe, maybe Tennessee... Anyway, Dawn Landes was the singer's name. She was good, talented guitar player with a nice voice, but the real stimulation came from an outstanding drummer whom, at one point was manning a keyboard, a harmonica, and somehow also working an intricate beat with pretty much the whole kit. It was very impressive. I kept my wits (and my money) about me and staved the boozy urges off to just one beer. Ben and Judith (my accommodating hosts) and I traversed back across the city around two in the morning, winding through alleys moistened by unknown liquids and wafting unmentionable smells.
I'm headed out soon to explore once again, maybe Park Guell. Yes, then a rendezvous for the drum kit. Tonight is our first show. Eric and I haven't played together in two months. It will be very free. I need an espresso and not another croissant, I'm three deep in just twenty hours. Spain is great, prideful and subdued. In fact much more subdued than I remember. Maybe I am just that much more adult and not in it for the the same reasons as years ago. Tomorrow is Montpelier, France and then on to Milano. There are gaps in shows but we have to travel by train for now. That is all, I need to go explore.