My neighbourhood has been throbbing with fiesta during a whole week.
Amazing for those who visit- not so great for those of us who live here.
Live music all night, drunken screams and brawls, stink of urine and no way of getting to the metro on time.
Crowds, sweat, alcohol and noise.
So I did- I went to Sitges.
No expectations, really; I know it's a touristy place and all that, but I wanted to see it.
And it was refreshing to get out of the bubble and to a beach that is not artificial (yes..unfortunately..the bubble-beach is artificial!)
I was in a new place, observing the energy of it, observing my reactions and thoughts to it.
The thoughts were these:
"It has the feeling of Brighton!"
"Oh my god, I didn't realise it was so GAY! I feel like i'm in Soho, London!"
"Hmm, some of the streets are really so cute with the whitewashed buildnings; it reminds me of the south of Spain!"
The mind always wants to compare and refer to already experienced places.
It wants to analyse, refer, compare.
Why can I not just stay open to the fact that this is Sitges- it's own place?
It bores me sometimes being an adult.
I know I've done it before.
I remember arriving in Sri Lanka, going up a hill with a motorbike, and saying "this reminds me of Bali"!
Always re-connecting somehow.
And I get bored of myself for doing it.
It would be so much nicer to be like a child- everything new, everything possible.
But it seems to get harder the older I get.
I am getting kinda cynical.
If the mind could just shut up and get out of the way, I could enjoy the moment better.
It's a constant work, working with this mind.
Never stops chatting its shit.
"I've seen it all before", I thought.
Yes, I've seen it all before. Houses, beautiful coastline, Spain, all of it.
I get bored, actually.
I think this is why my mind keeps telling me it knows this stuff.
I guess I'm growing out of a phase and into another one, where different things start to matter.
I miss the people I love. I'd rather spend my Sunday with those people, than discovering new places. (yikes. I am definitely changing.)
But then I had the biggest surprise of the day, which kind of turned my negative mind-spiral into a fluffy moment of admiration:
I went into a busy, traditional bar full of people, and ordered what I always considered one of my favourite drinks in Spain: Tinto de Verano. (red wine, ice, Fanta Limón, ice = blended = lovely!
And it was placed in front of me, looking like this.
I could not stop admiring the fine line balancing the Fanta and the red wine, slowly moving like a wave, staying separated like oil and water. After each sip it made a gorgeous dance all around the circle of the glass and I felt as if I was a kid observing the clouds fly by in the sky.
Wonderful. I felt new.
And I realised, that's it's in the small things.
That's where IT is. In the details.