Barcelona

Well I found Los Ramblas okay; it was a €1.15 trip from the hotel on the Linea 3. I had to walk down hill to the well fortified meeting square with Terry on a search mission to help me on the last few steps.

The rest had been in the same bar since 16:00 and now at 20:00 quite a few bottles of Rioja had already been demolished. I was still in the pristine state following a day of celibate client meetings. "Get me a glass" was amongst my first statements and soon enough the smoky red liquid was oiling the edges of my conversation.

Later stumbing to the natural seats for us at the Taxidermista, I spotted Terry's considerate venue related aside to Marilyn ensuring food we would all enjoy.

An evening of increasing beverage fatigue was easily offset by talk of the latest TV opportunity for Marilyn, of my rather suspect Anime Singularity from Christina Nott and of John's attempts to fathom Terry's strong Rosicrucian belief system. My summary of "I am what I am" was reposted with Terry's "Be yourself", but I sort of knew we were near to the same page.

Bottles later we hugged and split; Terry and Marilyn to their ideally centric locale; JLO, with me, to an optimally obscure location and then me alone to the posh place next to our event venue. As I toppled from the taxi at 02:30, Tom called, "Hey" as he was about to launch himself onward into the Spanish night.