With somehow French melancholy we departed chez Vasil and started packing after some strong melitta coffee, a German flashback. I could take some of the leftovers in my mug because Rob doesn't drink any and Yann was anyway still sleepy and had plans to go back to bed.
Good vibes, we had had two days of absolute switching off in a charming, quiet place and in beautiful company.
To me it felt like a cultural transition to Southern European lifestyle, minus the rural ambiance. I am talking about the eating habits where meals are a big deal and quality prevails and a warmer personality in general. After all, we all kiss in France and in Catalonia when we see for the very first time. Temperament starts showing, but something happened after crossing the Pyrenees, where people become generally loud, gesticulate a lot and touch a bit more often. Being hipersensitive to smell and sound I dislike the loud Southern European decibels, however, although I don't participate as much as a regular one, I do very appreciate the proxemics.
Next Mitfahrer- co-voiturante: Sofie, picked up in Lyon, as much as I wanted to avoid the city, grrr. A North Catalan raised in Perpignan. You could tell: we talked for hours about food and cortados (machiatto coffee).
The trip went by really quickly. Bonzai was well adapted to the van and he also stayed a while in the back, to have some leg space. I had built a higher floor for him, a plattform with his toilet, his sleeping basket and a travelling bag. I did have to keep him locked in the travelling bag, because otherwise he'd stay between the things underneath and I was scared that if I had to hit the brakes the bike or boxes there would shift and it could have hurt him.
He is so awesome that in the one toilet break, I let him out at his own leasure in the back of the van to snoop around and he went to the toilet at the same time as I. Can't be more of a proud crazy cat lady mummy.
In Perpignan we dropped Sofie off and picked Eric up.
He had been travelling solo in a camper "into the wild" and his camper broke down. As he had booked a room in a hostel in Barcelona right down my street, I drove him right to his door. In the short trip Perpignan-Barcelona, Rob and I adopted him because we found his accent, a rusty English with French words in a German background mixed with some Spanish incursions too adorable. I invited him to come live with us and help on my home project. He agreed. and that's how we added to the itinerant family an old souled teenager with whom I believe I have more in common than with some people double his age.
met veel plezier and groot gemak
