Last night Spain won the Eurocup 2008 and Barcelona went ape shit.
I spent the night in my hostel bed, sweating miserably and counting down the hours until I could get my new powder blue short shorts to the beach (with gold flojos to boot).
This morning I woke up (still wearing said shorts) and headed out to the open market with some friends from the Madrid trip. It wasn´t as interesting as I had hoped, minus the goat heads in the butcher shops.
After much debate over lunches, I was on my way to stand before the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. I shucked off those gold flip flops and dove into a body of water foreign to me. It felt fantastic, with as hot as it has been in Barcelona (I´m sure Madrid is even worse, being possibly to Spain what Fresno is to California) I was truly in need for a little swim. I floated around in the salty water for a bit, then went and laid on my towel and thought to myself "topless beaches are kind of like movie theaters where they have a bar", in that once you have been to one, a regular beach just seems kind of silly.