Chapter Four involves an inordinate amount of flying.

So the next leg of the journey begins, leaving Changi Singapore at 11.45pm on a Boeing 777 to Barcelona via Milan. The aircraft was newer than the one that had taken me to Singapore, so the in-flight entertainment system was easier to work through, but goodness the seat was uncomfortable. Leg room was minimal, and I had to work myself in to all sorts of odd postions in an attempt to get both comfortable and stretched out. My plans to catch up on sleep, and maybe build up a bit of 'sleep credit' didn't work out as well as I had hoped.

Travelling east to west was also an odd experience - leaving Singapore in the middle of the night, and following but not catching up to the sun meant it was a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g night. We arrived at Milan after thirteen hours or so flying just in time to catch sunrise. It's always an interesting experience landing in a strange airport at night, trying to work out the local geography in the dark, and then seeing it in daylight. Unfortunately we did not get a chance to get out and stretch our legs in Milan, as it was a short break to refuel and change crew. However, about three quarters of the passengers also left here, so it was great to have a lot of room in the cabin to move about in.

Unfortunately the flight across to Barcelona was not too scenic - apart from the tops of lots of fluffy white cloud. There was a brief patch of clear sky that gave us a view of farmland probably near the French and Italian border, but it soon closed in again until shortly before we landed. The weather reports I'd been monitoring had me very worried about what to expect on arriving here, but the clar bluse skies above the cloud cover, and then the blue Mediterannean as we approached El Prat de Llobregat airport were encouraging.

Baggage took ages to unload, but customs and immigration clearance was over in moments, and I was back in Spain!! I suddenly felt rather overwhelmed by the realisation that I was in a country where I didn't speak the language - a situation I hadn't been in for quite some time! I circled the arrivals hall several times hoping that one of my friends may have turned up to meet me, but when that didn't work out I braced myself, and caught the shuttle bus in to town. Like most airports, Barcelona's is not on a particularly scenic route, but as we got closer to the centre all sorts of familiar landmarks made me feel at home again.

I got off in Placa Catalunya, popped in to the tourist information office (inconveniently located underground) to get a free city map, and then walked the two blocks to my hotel. Hostal Goya turned out to be as lovely as it's website promised! It occupies two stories in a mid nineteenth century building. Many original features like the tall ceilings, tiled floors etc are retained, but it has been renovated and redecorated very tastefully. My room has a nice big double bed, a generous wardrobe and a desk, and a well laid out en-suitebathroom. There is also a comfortable communal lounge with lovely big couches, plenty of reading material, tea and coffee facilities, and two computer terminals. All very comfortable! The lady on the front desk was also extremely friendly and welcoming, introducing me to the facilities in the hostal, and giving me another free city map on which she pointed out the major tourist destinations, and made a number of recommendations for local places in which to eat and drink.

After a greatly enjoyed shower to wash off all the gunk and discomfort from the long flight I headed out and wandered around the city, regaining my memory of the layout, remembering lots of great times here in the past, and working out how to get around. I also started working on contacting my old buddies who live here - that turned out to be a bit tricky, and now I really, really wished I'd bought my cellphone and had international roaming set up! The local telephone company, Telefonica, has phone booths that look smart but have little else going for them. It has been tricky working out how much coinage I need to call my friends home and mobile numbers, the calls chew through the money once connected, and if the call isn't answered the phone doesn't always return the money (although there have been two occassions when I've got back more money than I put in - like a slot machine!). I eventually managed to get hold of Juan, only to find out he was working that day, but that we'd be able to meet up late that evening, so we agreed on a time and place to do so.

One of my more memorable stays in Barcelona was a lengthy vacation where dear Juan let me have use of his apartment for several weeks. This was right on the main street Las Ramblas, and in one of the historic buildings around the incredible Bouqueria market. I walked past this on my re-orientation tour and mentally waved hullo to my old haunt. Despite the fact that the apartment was on the top floor, one hundred and ten steps up from street level, with no elevator, I did have a happy time here. Unfortunately Juan no longer lives here, and the building has gone downhill, with a Dunking Doughnuts store on the ground floor.

I had lunch in a tiny cafe in the old quarter of town - one of countless tiny cafes that mainly caters to residents and workers and employers in the immediate neighbourhood. Obviously a family concern, the mother looked after the counter, and kept up a friendly banter with all the locals that called in, referring to nearly all of them as 'darling'. My lunch selection was a salad of cooked vegetables, followed by lamb chops (you can take the Kiwi out of NZ, but you can't take the kiwi out of Kiwi!), accompanied by bread and a glass of rather rough white wine. The son was rather annoyed at the time my main course took to come out, so I also got a free serving of meat balls from the tapas selection.

Spain has a wonderful institution in most cafes and restaurants called 'el menu del dia' - the menu of the day. For a set price of around 11 Euros (depending on the venue) you get a limited selection of appetiser, main course, sometimes a small dessert/yoghurt/fruit, plus a drink and bread.

Having well and truly started my cultural assimilation, the next step was to have a siesta, recovering from my long walk around town, and hoping to get my body clock on to local time. After the siesta, dinner, and some more wandering around town it was time to meet up with Juan. He was the first friend I'de made here when I was working for NBC during the 1992 Olympics, and had become a real special friend. As soon as we saw one another in the street we recognised one another, had a huge warm hug, and started catching up on a lot of gossip. When we first met JUan was working as a cartographer for the Catalan government, but after a number of career and life changes he was now in catering. He'd started the life I left! This meant that he'd had a long day, and had another ahead of him, so we had to finish the catch-up before too long so he wouldn't fall asleep on the way home. It was great to be in touch again though, and to start making plans for more time together.