Meandering, soaking up this spicy city.
Endless strolling with my faithful Birkenstock though El Born and the Latin Quarter, La Rambla and the Mercado de la Boqueria.
A chance encounter with a Spanish doppelganger, followed by an evening of rythmic life and enchanting beats in the Parc de la Ciutadella. Flamenco shows and an intimate gathering of Pan flute players, energetically blowing into their wooden pipes deep into the summer night. I gave it a go, but gave up rather quickly. Maybe it was the sweet aroma of shared human saliva which lingered on the flutes. I contented myself with listening to these mesmerizing artists, masters of wood and wind.
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