I dragged my butt outta bed by 8:45am, no crack, no bells on, just the sound of my recently comotose body hitting the floor. I packed and met Paula and Ross, my british guides to Aragon, at 9:30. We all checked out by 10am, got to the bus station by 10:15, and left with the bus at 10:30. The bus was actually quite nice and there were only two other folks besides us and the bus driver. It was equipped with minijacks for listening to music via headphones and with a little searching (consisting of swivelling my head towards the back of the bus) I found an earphone dispenser (heh) that would hoark out a set of functional ear-buds for a mere 200ptas (around US$1.25). I bought a pair to replace the ones waiting for me in the Milan train station (optimist, remember?). Granted, those were Sony and these were, well, I'm not really sure what they were, but they worked. For a while I scanned the three available stations on the bus and realized that it just wasn't going to get better and switched to my lousy tapes. Music is music and I was enjoying it. The scenery got progressively more beautiful the farther we got from Barcelona. It went from rolling green wooded hills with majestic peaks in the background reminiscent of southern Oregon with a Colorado backdrop, to full on beautiful mountains rivaling Switzerland. The bus dude said that the trip would take four hours to reach Andorra La Vella, but we reached it in three hours, spot on, putting the clock at 1:30pm. The weather was noticably cooler than Barcelona, but still warmer than I would prefer. At least the humidity had gone down :o) The entire town is duty free (no tax, not luxury tax or anything), which means that things of an electronic nature, tobacco, liquor, stuff like that is dirt cheap. Andorra La Vella is the capitol of the Principality of Andorra.
Our first order of business, having skipped breakfast in order to actually get on the bus before it left, was to find food. Wandering around, and not wanting to eat at McDonald's, we found a local joint that served sandwiches and stuff like that. Right off we couldn't place the language. It turns out that the native language is Catalan, but everyone in the town also speaks both Spanish and French. The problem we were having during the meal was that they guys serving us would use all three. No worries, we guessed at the stuff on the menu and I got one of the strangest sandwiches I'd ever had. Not really sure what was on it but some of the things were boiled egg, lettuce, tomato, corn, ham, bacon, hotdog... just weird. The chips (french fries) were good though and Paula questioned me wanting mustard on them until I questioned her wanting mayonaise on hers. Touché ;o)
I wasn't going to mention it since it's kinda disgusting, but as it became such a large part of my life while in Andorra I may as well. My sinuses opened as soon as I arrived in town and began flowing freely, stopping only when I left. As parents do with their young children, my thoughts were constanly on having enough tissue on hand to contain the discharge. I tried a couple different kinds of antihisthamine but a) I prefer not to use them, and b) they didn't work well enough to warrant using them (and they made me sleepy). It got better towards the end when I could generally go about an hour or sometimes more without cleaning my passages. Reading over this paragraph I'm almost ready to delete it, but hey, you might be reading this over lunch and what an opportunity... ;oP
Next order of business was finding the tourist information office. The girls came prepared to camp while I was going to find a hostel. Back at the bus station the guy in the bus information office pointed us to go about a kilometer to the tourist info office. We searched for a while and came up empty (bad directions, even in hindsight knowing the town). We asked someone else and they directed us right to it. We got there at 3pm and found that it, like most non-food related shops in Spain, was closed from 1pm-4pm. No worries, we have an hour to burn. Because they were only going to be in town for the night, the girls changed their mind about camping since the place was a few kilometers down the road and went in search of a cheap pensioné that they had found in my guide book while I watched all of the packs. An hour and a half later (a little excessive if you ask me, but I had a book to read...) they returned with good news regarding the rooms. I went into the tourist info joint while they watched the bags retrieving a map and other touristy type info, and then we were off. Never, if you have the opportunity, walk past hundreds of shops with big windows displaying lots of items waiting to be purchased at great prices in the heat of the afternoon with a pack on your back whilst following two women -- they tend to shop. After a bit of encouragement we actually arrived at the pensioné (via a route not entirely the shortest, I know now) and I got a lovely triple for the price of a single. The place is called Residencia Benazet and is the nicest place I've stayed in seven months of travel. Granted I've stayed in some real holes due to cost, but this is also the cheapest place in town. It's extremely clean, the woman who runs it is terribly nice, and the showers are lovely. I can't possibly recommend it enough. They have singles, doubles with one and two beds, and triples that cost 1400ptas per person (that's roughly US$7 per night).
I moved in, which consisted of dropping my pack on the floor, and headed out. The only problem is that I didn't know what room the girls had gotten. No worries, I stepped out to the corner pub, got a table outside with a view of the front door of the pensioné and ordered up a brew. About halfway through the pint they materialized through the door and joined me for a beerverage themselves -- it was nice to relax in the mountain air. Ross was interested in finding a pair of shorts, and I needed a pair of boots in a bad way. We happened acrossed a sports store and I found what I was looking for, a pair of top end Salomon hikers for just over US$100 (a good price in my experience). Looking at my old boots next to them I was amazed at the beating they had taken in a mere seven months. The soles were dead and there was a hole in the side of one of them. Never before had I worn out footwear before the original laces went, and never in such a short time. These are more durable and should hopefull last longer. As we continued down the street, me in my newly acquired boots, my eye began catching prices for minidisc players -- my next acquisition. By this time I'd decided to stay a while instead of following Paula and Ross around. This town is just what I need to rest up and get healthy again. There's something to be said for the nightlife, but anything in excess is questionable ;o).
Dinner was at an italian restaurant and consisted (for me) of a delicious veal stew that cost under US$5. We went back to the hostel where I went up and chatted with the girls for a bit and then went down and laid on the bed and fell asleep for a bit. I got up and showered around 1am and caught an incredible electrical storm that lasted for all of about five minutes. The drops of rain were impressively large, the lightning came in large bolts, and the air was warm. After it ended I washed my towel, which smelled since I packed it damp, a pair of socks, and a pair of boxers in the sink and hung them on a chair to dry.
I woke multiple times sweating profusely in a cool room and finally ended up sleeping eleven hours, waking finally at noon being asked to change rooms to a single that had just become available (tiny, no sink, window opening to the hall not to the outside). I am feeling much better today though, it's amazing what vacation life can do for ya ;o) I had two bananas, a peach, and a tasty muffin for breakfast before leaving to wander the town and research minidisc players at 1pm, only to return at 2pm and sleep fitfully (as the night beore) until 5:30pm. Dinner (lunch?) consisted of two kiwis, a nectarine, a pear, and peanuts. Time to resume my minidisc quest. Sadly I speak neither spanish nor french, and the majority of folks here don't speak a lick of english. All the sales-dorks that I spoke to said it was not possible to record from a portable cd player to a minidisc player. That had to be a load of shit. I mean really, what would be the point? I found an internet point, sent some e-mail, and did some perusal of www.minidisc.org where I found that a male-male minijack cable would do the trick nicely. I felt that I should return to all the sales-dorks and educate them since they nearly lost a sale due to ignorance. Now all I have to do is decide on make (Sony or Sharp) and model (each brand has so many available) and then walk the town and find the best price available since every third shop sells minidisc players.
I bought some more food and went back to my room to eat bananas and drink some mixed fruit juice whilst reading. Another odd storm passed through for about half an hour this time. It seems that ´tis the season for them and they are more common than not up here (I'm gonna stop mentioning them now). Kinda cool. Sleep found me at 2am with only 100 pages to go in John Grisham's The Testament. I was really enjoying reading it but a couple of the themes disappoint me. I'll not expound, but there's nothing worse than being disappointed in an author. Ok, there are probably worse things, but it's pretty danged bad as far as I'm concerned. John Lee Hooker -- nuf sed.
Morning came after 1pm for me and found me feeling mainly human and largely hungry. From the looks of me it would be a good thing to shave, so I did. As I began my quest for food I came acrossed none other than Paula and Ross. They had gone up and spent the night camping in Ordino, still in Andorra and are on their way back through to Barcelona. Not knowing anyone else in town I hung with them until 4:45pm, just before their bus pulled out. I then went and did a bit of e-mail and more MD shopping. One would think that I would have eaten, as I was hungry when I awoke, but the town shuts back down at 8pm and I wanted to shop more for a minidisc player before that happened. My information told me that Sony and Sharp have comparable features and quality. Frankly the only difference turns out to be size (which is nearly the same in the later models) and battery life (Sony gets longer life from a prorietary batter while sharp allows AA batteries -- much better IMHO). I returned to the first shop I went to a couple of days ago and after a bit of haggling (the guys remembered me from the other day) I got the Sharp MD-SR70H, the remote, headphones, a rechargable NiMH battery, charger, five blank discs (with a nifty plastic box I plan to throw away), and a compilation minidisc (mainly soul, but not a bad disc) for 29,000ptas (that's about US$160 as of that day´s conversion rates) -- I felt good about it. My hunger for music has returned! I got some food and went back to finish my book and begin transferring my shit tapes onto MD. Gack! I need help. It was 3am by the time I slept.
Ahhh, finally a good night´s sleep. I woke refreshed at 1pm and transferred more of those crap tapes onto MD. After finishing The Testament I decided to return to the trilogy I had begun called The Cunningham Equations (the first book wasn't so good). This book is called The Black Magician and has nothing to do with magicians or channelling from any sourse, let alone an evil one -- interesting title. By 6:30pm I needed to get out so I walked around, bought some food, and dropped it by my room. The mountains here beg to be climbed so I began an exploratory meander. It turns out that there are steps up to a stone path way that skirts the lower portion of the mountain. I resisted climbing above the path but vowed to return soon better prepared, returning to the square near my pensioné around 10pm to watch folks go about whatever business brought them there. The square contains an interesting fountain that changes periodically making it much better than those that just spray the same old jets constantly. Back in my room I transferred more lousy tapes onto MD and continued reading a less than great book. Can you tell I'm dissatisfied with the input available to me? The up-side? (There is always an up-side, look for it.) Things can only get better :o) 5am found me loathe to sleep. I slept... at 7am with only 100 pages to go.
I woke at 10:30am to switch rooms (at the request of the woman running the place the evening before -- turns out a guy stays in the room I'm in every week all week). She wasn't around and the room that she had indicated that I was moving to wasn't vacated so I hung out and read until noon when she showed up. I got stuck back in the nice triple with the window to the street that I was in for the first night :o) I finished my book and slept from 1pm-5pm at which point I totally unpacked everything I owned as a form of "spring cleaning". I decided to begin a workout regimin of sorts. As I have no weights or formal equipment to train with I've put together a fairly comprehensive isometric program. I won't note when I work out, but will instead note only when I don't. We'll see how it goes :o) To satiate my hunger I ate a peanut-butter and banana and peanuts (ultra-chunk ;o) and raspberry jam sandwich with bites of canned peach (yum!). At 7:20pm I left to go to this massive store called Pyrénées. It has everything you could imagine... except what I was looking for. I went to their book section in search of an english-spanish dictionary. Not too much to ask for in a town that speaks no english and one of its primary languages is spanish. They have spanish to everything but no english to spanish. Sheesh! If I could communicate with anyone in the friggin store then I'd make a suggestion. Instead I bought five more blank minidiscs and a minidisc player case that will also hold 8-10 (it claims 4) minidiscs. Back in my room I got to sorting through the stuff I'd unpacked. I'd been collecting rocks from important placed I'd been (Mt. Sinai, Valley of the Kings, Petra, etc) and never got around to labelling them. Now I have to stretch my brain to remember which came from where. Most of them are easy enough as they look like the place they came from, but a couple gave me grief. After quite some time (too long, in my opinion which is not so humble in this case) I have them all straight, but it's something I should have done months ago. If Laurent is reading this then he's definately laughing at me in one of those "I told you so" ways, and he did tell me so.
I am finally tired of fruit. Dinner tonight is pringles new fangled potato chips (practicing not being such an extremist), sardines al limon en aceit de oliva, mejillones en escabeche picantes (muscles in pickled picante sauce), a big can of black olives (with pits), and a tomato. It was good and I'd do it again save for the pits in the olives. I repacked my bags and ended up with more room than before (nice!). It's 2:15am, I've donned my glasses after removing my contacts so I can read and I'm realizing that it's the first time I've worn them, or any glasses for that matter, in fifteen years. The world looks oddly curved through them, let's hope I never need to wear them to help me function in society. Besides the optical distortion, they look really weird :o( I laid down to sleep at 3:10am and tossed not a bit.
I woke around 3:30pm and chose this day to shave. I find that I'm shaving much more regularly now that I'm back in society. This probably seems normal to most of you (males), but I haven't exactly been shaving very often for a while now, especially while in Egypt. Anyhoo, I went on a quest today for an english-spanish dictionary. Try locating a language translation dictionary in a town where the reason you want the danged thing is so that you can begin to communicate with folks. Not an easy task. I would enter a store and try to explain that I want a dictionary so that I can tell them that I want a dictionary. It only took me a few hours and in the proces I found another store... First a bit of history. I have, in my friend's basement, 950 compact discs. I used to call it a collection and then saw it as an illness. Passing music stores was difficult and in most cases impossible. They always have a sale going on and there's always a few that I want. The reason I decided not to get a minidisc player before leaving the states is that I didn't want the financial burden of buying the discs. Sure I could record CD's onto minidiscs but to what end? Now that I have a minidisc player and no real music (that crap I have doesn't count) I really need to either a) locate someone with a CD player that will let me use it for a while, or b) buy some danged discs. My fear has been recognized and I feel that I met it with great restraint. I purchased 4 minidiscs at great prices. Each was only about US$8, cheap by any standard. I'll tell you the titles, but don't judge me :o) First was the Sleepless In Seattle Soundtrack. Next came Harry Connic, Jr's When Harry Met Sally Soundtrack. Finally, and this one was a struggle that puzzled me (Laurent would approve), George Michael's double album Ladies and Gentlemen, The Best of George Michael. All of them are excellent music that I've loved on CD and I'm pretty confident that I won't come acrossed someone with the CD's to copy. *sigh* I don't have the room to cary alot of discs, so I'm pretty confident that I won't be buying many more -- the only problem there lies in the definition of the word "many". As always, the biggest danger when backpacking is buying only what you can carry, and carrying what you buy. I dropped in the Sleepless In Seattle Soundtrack before stepping completely out of the store and smiled the rest of the day.
On my way back I stopped off a Pyrénées looking for clothes. I found four pair of good sport socks and a nice t-shirt for 1000ptas (around US$7) each and two pair of boxers for 1250ptas each. I'm still searching for an extra NiMH rechargable battery; someplace in this town has to sell them. During that search I met some americans with an irish kid in a camera shop and had a nice five minute minidisc chat. He had just bought the top of the line Sony MD-R71 minidisc player for 44K (my sharp was only 29K). Sadly he was on his way out of town so I couldn't grab any music from him :o( Oh well, it was nice to speak english to someone anyway. Back at the ranch I ate two cans of beans-n-stuff. There are lots of cans of beans-n-stuff here. One of teh ones I ate was really tasty while the other really wasn´t, but isn't that the way life is? I tried to learn some spanish and didn't feel that any of it stuck. That's the reason I haven't learned a language before, it's slow going and I have no patience for something I can't pick up immediately. Same with art, music, and junk like that. I read for a while and quit at 2:30am when I got bored with the plot -- lousy authors... I perused more spanish then switched to music while trying to sleep. I saw the sun before sleep found me. I think sleep needs to look harder next time.
I woke around 3pm or so and came to the realization that it doesn't really matter. I mean it's not like I'm able to communicate with anyone or have any appointments to meet. This whole sleeping at night and waking at dawn thing is just an imposed rule of society. I'm not really working within a society right now so what's the big deal? I perused some español, listened to music, and left around 7pm when I found two NiMH rechargable batteries for 1200ptas. I've taken to wandering the streets of Andorra. You could certainly pick worse places to wander the streets. This place is clean, peaceful, and so beautiful. I wish I could converse with folks here... I bought some food as the store I tend to shop in closes at 8:30pm. The place I e-mail is about a 10 minute walk for me, and I try to vary my path. While e-mailing a very handsome spanish couple were eyeing me periodically. No worries, I get used to this travelling as much as I do. As they left the girl actually said "good-bye" in an accent so thick that I was sure that she was totally unaccustomed to english. I was amazed, grateful, elated, and all I could manage to do was return the same. There are so many things that I should've, would've, could've said but didn't as I was so taken aback. Little things... After e-mail I walked some more and went back to eat a ham and tomato sandwich. I pitched the green leafy stuff I bought to put on the sandwich as it was bitter as all get out. I have no clue what it was as I couln't understand what the woman behind the counter was babbling about, but I'm confident at this point that it is definately not lettuce. I also ate a can of green olives with anchovies shoved into the centers. It turns out that this is exactly the same stuff that Paula, Ross, and I were served with those three pitchers of sangria at that small local bar in Barcelona (remember that Paula is a vegetarian -- this was just one in a series of incidents showing bad luck with food for her) -- I loved them then and still do. To drink I got this large bottle of V-8-like vegetable juice. Note: There's just so much of that stuff you can drink, unlike mixed fruit juice. More perusal of ye ol' español followed by a long time spent just contemplating things. Around 12:30 I decided to take a bath. The sign on the door says not to take baths, only showers, so that there will be plenty of hot water to go around. Well, if that is the reason then I am confident that whomever needs to take a shower will have plenty of water by the time they want to take it. So, at 1am I took my Egyptian candle and stuck it to the lid of my empty Israeli skippy super chunk jar, lighting it with my Netherlander lighter, and listened to my minidisc player purchased in Andorra playing the Sleepless In Seattle Soundtrack, slipped into a slightly too hot tub and blissed entirely out for over an hour. That, my friends, is what I'm talkin' about :o) (I could have gotten more international and listened to some lame assed Jordanian recordings but I wasn't willing to make the sacrifice for the sake of extremity, although a nice italian wine would have done nicely.) Back in my room I read from around 2:15-5:30am and the book is annoying me.
I woke at 1:30pm mostly due to jackhammering on the street outside my window (I'm on the second floor). From the looks of it they'd been at it all morning so I must have been ready to wake up. On a side note, it sometimes worries me that I sleep so soundly, especially in a dorm hostel situation with 30+ people in the same room. I could probably be robbed of everything I have, including the clothes on my back, and not wake up. No worries, if it's gonna happen then it'll happen. Anyway, breakfast was some kiwis, bananas, an apple, a peach, and of course the reqiusite peanuts (what a sad, empty world it would be without peanuts). First order of business was to hit the pharmacia for some sun screen. Priorities are small and strong. I found a little bottle of "maximal" sunscreen. No SPF rating, just said "total sun block" -- just what I was looking for (miracle whip brand ;o).
I started climbing the mountain at 5:15pm, dispelling the assertion that in order to climb any mountain you had to get up before the sun and begin at the butt crack of dawn -- utter horse hockey! (that exclamation courtesy of Colonel Sherman Potter, M*a*s*h* 4077, or, rather, his writers.) The beginning was easy and known territory. The stone steps began about 50 meters from the door to my pensioné and I reached the place where I intended to ascend on the stone walkway in about 10 minutes -- making good progress, I felt. From there I found a small trail at a slight incline that was both pleasant and easy to traverse. This was cake :o) The trail ended a short distance later and I angled towards the loose rocks. From the place I stood it didn't look to be much of a climb, definately nothing to write home about, but I headed up anyway. There's this interesting phenomenon known to climbers where the summit (the highest point on the mountain from which everything else is down) seems to move at a pace equal, if not greater than, the rate at which you approach it. In fact, the damned thing is elusive at best. The rocks I was climbing on were once part of the upper reaches of this peak and had fallen off years, months, days, or even hours ago for all I knew. At least they were fairly large with one ranging from a foot to two feet in diameter available each time I needed to take a step. This, however, changed proportionally with the altitude (as I climbed higher the rocks got increasingly smaller), until finally I was climbing at about a 40 degree angle (that´s a guess, but it was really steep) in large gravel. At least it wasn´t the upper crust of packed snow on a glacier, but a cool breeze now and again would have been welcome. I had wondered as a child where flies came from, I believe now that I've found their place of origin, or at least where the come to for conventions. Being the only thing moving (aside from that one snake I saw as I left the stone path, but I wasn't wanting to think about snakes at the time), and definately the only thing prespiring at this altitude, I seemed quite the attraction for the flies. At first they were just annoying, then they became downright troublesome. The top was more technical than I probably should have done alone (I thought about this as I clung to a near vertical rock face and had my next 3 potential hand holds fall away). I recall the first time I climbed Mt. Si with Joe Murphy. Upon reaching the top of the trail you can continue up a more technical portion called the haystack, which is generally not that difficult unless the wind is whipping and the rocks are iced up nicely. Joe and I began climbing that portion and he, exercising great wisdom upon seeing the effect that my inadequate shoes were having gripping the slick surface, made an executive decision and aborted our ascent. Joe wasn't with me and I had set out with the intent of summitting, so I did what any bull-headed male would do. I don´t think I would have fallen for more than 40 or 50 feet, but then the bounce and tumble would probably have done me in. The flies, seeing that I was not deterred, came out in force (I thought they were bad before!). I'm sure that there were hundreds of them by this point. On one of my breaks I killed 7 of them with one swat (a personal best, and I felt good about it :o), although I did cheat a bit. All of the foliage that I encountered on this climb, with the exception of the occasional light blue flower that I actually paused to admire (or just used as an excuse to gulp air), was covered with thorns. Now if I were a tigger (I actually thought this whilst climbing...) then I would be in heaven, because everyone knows that tiggers love thistles -- and there were actual thistles mingled in with the shrubbery (one shorter than the next so as to produce a stairstep effect). Massive aside, sorry, back to the flies. My cheating came in the form of a large-ish laceration (that's a cut, kids) on the back of my left calf courtesy of some thorny bastard. I felt an odd sting and looked to see some flies having a kegger with me hosting. As I watched, they were joined by some friends of theirs until I finally gave in and helped them to their final destiny. At their worst the flies were actually hindering my vision, which of course occurred when I didn't have an extra hand with which to guide them into fly heaven (and with my free hand I'll...). Danged things. I would have paid good money for a can of Raid. Well, aside from the flies the summit was breathtaking and more than worth it, and twice as far as the "summit&summit; that I could see from the bottom and had initially set out to attain. I feel good having done it and would have regretted turning back. I got some great photos (which was one of my main reasons for the climb) that I will probably get developed some time next year ;o) The ascent took me about 3 1/2 hours.
The descent, although quicker, was more painful. I probably would have taken it a bit more leisurely but didn't want to finish in the dark. Another half hour would have been nice, which still would have not required that I start at dawn. At the top, having a grand view of the slopes below, I decided to take a better, "quicker" route down. Never do this. If the route was good enough to get you up then it's no doubt good enough to get you down. Oddly, the top portion, while the most difficult portion of the ascent, was the easiest portion of the descent. Then I encountered the shrubs from hell. They wanted blood and it seemed that nothing would keep them from it, and the flies stayed with me until I reached the stone path. I was afraid that they would follow me all the way to my room with me running and flailing like a madman only to dash in and slam the door thinking I was safe. Then, mere moments later they would burst en masse through the window and drive me to my gibbering end. Ok, I was wiggin' a bit by that point, a little leeway would be nice. Back to the descent... Oddly, the large rocks that were my friends on the way up, providing good footing and allowing my to pick my way nicely up the slope, were treaturous on the way down, sliding out from under me at every turn. The gravel patches that I found were the best as they allowed me to "ski&ski; my way down in large gliding steps. My new boots helped greatly in the ankle support department, but fell drastically below my expectations in the blister prevention arena (yes, I know, never climb in brand new boots). Paul Dunn once passed on a tidbit of knowledge, as he was known to do from time to time, that came to mind as I gingerly tried to avoid applying pressure to certain parts (actually most parts) of my feet -- bring some mole skin with you and take the time to apply it to the hot spots on your feet. Thanks for that one Paul (I had brought none). I eventually reached the little stone path and walked like the old man that I am back to my pensioné. As I said, I'm glad that I made the summit, and that I had purchased a minidisc player (which provided the soundtrack for this drama).
- Tips for climbers (mountaiñeros):
- 1) Never climb alone.
2) Always tell someone where you've gone (speaking their language would help).
3) Don't climb above your ability, especially when alone (see rule #1).
4) Two words: Insect Repellant
5) While it's not necessary to leave at dawn, give yourself at least twice as long as you feel it should take.
6) Although shorts are cooler, pants are much more protective and probably a better idea (for climbs, not hikes).
7) Never climb in brand new boots, it's just stupid. It's a misnomer that boots get "broken in", it's actually your foot that becomes modified to suit the shoe.
8) Carry some mole skin -- it´s small, light, and can save your feet.
9) Rope? It's just excess baggage...Back at the ranch the first order of business was to shed my offensive garb and dive into the luxurious showers available to me. After that, although tired, I wandered down and did a bit of e-mail from 10:30-11:30pm, eating two muffins and some honey-roasted peanuts on the way. Because they asked, I decided to drink a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice while doing my e-mailing. It was really sweet, and they serve it with sugar on the side as well. What are they thinking?? By 1:30am I had perused español a bit and eaten some chunky chicken and veggies in gravy on bread and a can of corn. I tried to drink more of that V-8-like substance, but as I said, there's just so much of that stuff you can pour down yourself. Don't get me wrong, I like it and it's good for me, but I just can't drink it in the quantities of fruit juices. By 5am I had finished The Cunningham Equations trilogy which was, frankly, weird. Now, sleep...
Morning found me a bit battered and scraped at around 3pm-ish. As I lay there I (for some reason, god knows why -- it's just an expression) re-visited late nights in the plaza outside Kabul Hostel in Barcelona. It seems that I visit that place alot. It's sad that that is what I remember most about such a beautiful city and the time that I spent there. I think about what the local law enforcement could do about the situation, it seems so simple but I'm sure that they have a larger picture to deal with (I'm trying to be kind and understanding and want to use stronger words to describe their obvious condition). I tried to use my workout to exorcise my demons but to no avail. C'est la vie, it'll work its way out, I just need to apply a bit of rational thought and look at the bigger picture. I perused español, at a banana and a can of peaches as I'm out of both peanuts and peanutbutter :o(. At 7pm I left in search of food (peanutbutter specifically). I found a huge grocery that had Creme du Chestnuts but no PB(?!). Fine, I decided to cave and buy a big ol' bag of tortilla chips and a jar of liquid fire salsa. No dice. This place had rows and rows of fried potato products (you wouldn't believe some of the things they do to a potato here), but the only corn-based crisp I found was barbecue fritos. I didn't want barbecue fritos, I wanted some plain ol' tortilla chips and salsa. Whatever, I left and went to the little store directly acrossed from my pensioné where I generally do my shopping. There I found tex-mex doritos and a jar of salsa. Back at my room I found that it's a good thing that the chips were tex-mex because the salsa was basically chunky tomato sauce, about as hot as an 98 year old hooker (forgive the visual there). Dinner was a carrot, two tomatos, the 140g bag of tex-mex doritos (not a big 'un), a jar of "pickled onion-olive-pepper-pickle on a stick" (kinda spicy), and a dried sausage all dipped in the the jar-o-salsa for flavor, more of the danged V-8-like drink (it's almost gone), and a muffin. It really wasn't as much food as it sounds like, but I was full when it was all said and done. Sadly I had no book to read so I turned to the pile of clothes that I needed to sort through and discard what was no longer socially acceptable. My Escher shirt was looking a bit swiss (as in the cheese, not the country), so I cut the picture out of it and trashed the rest :o(. Most of my socks look like they'd crossed a large chunk of the planet with me, and so did my, errr, um, you-know-whats. Time to do a bit of shoppin'. I ventured forth do do a bit of e-mail, returning at 11:30pm to contemplate issues of reality (what to do with my car that is still parked in Seattle, how long I'll be travelling, what will happen when I return to reality (it's inevitable), junk like that). Basically it's all interconnected and I just sat and stewed and pondered for a while trying to straighten things out. This is why most of the planet enjoys a TV, movies, books, music, games, anything that can keep their mind from working on the matters at hand. I need to get a book ;o) In leiu of that I found a happy thought and dwelt on it until I didn't feel the need any longer. I saw the clock at 5:12am and considered that I should probably change my schedule at some point. I could do with some relaxation, but alas...
When I paid the evening before (I pay in the evening for the next night since checkout is at noon and I'm rarely up in the mornings, as you well know) I was notified that I needed to move rooms -- this generally occurs via gestures and both of us saying things to eachother that the other doesn't understand. My spanish is improving as I understood most of the words that she used this time and we both smiled. She was impressed that I had gotten as much as I had as fast as I had out of the VOX Diccionario Mini Inglés that had become my companion of late. Encouragement, nice :o) I switched rooms at 11am to one on the floor above with a double bed and a massive pillow (fits entirely acrossed the bed). I figured that since I was up I'd stay that way and try to adjust my schedule even though I had that toxic "no sleep" feeling. I donned my coat because the weather had turned cold and frankly because I had been carrying the damned thing around long enough that I wanted to use it. It was a good thing that I wore the coat as the weather turned and, according to my friend at the internet cafe, was the worst it had been in quite a while. Wind, light rain, cold, reminded me of home. I found a jar of Whole Earth peanut butter at Pyrénées (that massive store with everything) -- it was the only brand they had, but it was still peanut butter. To go with it I bought a loaf of sandwich bread and a jar of chunky apple sauce. I began salivating immediately. At the libreria (bookstore) where I found the mini dictionary I bought three books: Dean Koontz Seize the Night, Michael Connely Blood Work, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. They seem obsessed with mysteries and thrillers here, but I was craving a book so I made due with the english titles at hand. My next stop was the internet cafe/restaurant where I do my e-mail. I was wanting to read and didn't feel like going back to the isolation of my room yet so I actually bought a plate of spaghetti bolognaise and some water -- that's right, I actually bought water. Welcome to the world, folks. By sheer luck I picked up Dean Koontz Seize the Night and began reading. Finally, a great author. his style is relaxed, his imagery vivid but not to the point of tedium, and his humor is exactly the type that I enjoy. The place started to fill up more so I put the book down and moved over to do a bit of e-mail around 3pm. On my way back to the ranch I bought five more blank minidiscs (when I do meet someone with a discman I don't want to be without an ample supply of blanks to fill) and a 12 MD organizer to hold my (soon to be) growing collection. I was really tired as the evening approached but needed to finish copying one last crap tape I had. It was a really bad DJ mix of a certain artist's greatest hits (I'll omit the name to save us both some embarassment) and I wanted to pull the thing apart so that it a) fit on the MD, b) would track properly, and c) would be more pleasurable to listen to.
Frustration. I was totally zombied during the day and evening. I staggered around town in a daze, unable to think with the brilliant clarity that I'm accustomed to (heh). In the evening, whilst reading an excellent book, I'd fade out and nearly fall asleep. But then, as soon as it got dark, I woke right up. Speaking of the excellent book, I found that it was the second in a friggin trilogy. Normally a good thing when I find an author and a book that I like, but this time it was the middle of the night and I was loathe to delve further into the second book without reading the first -- it might give something away that would ruin the first, or worse, I might miss a plot point that was outlined before. Fine, I put the book down and shut off the light. It was 2am and sleep couldn't locate my pathetic ass with a fully staffed veteran search and rescue team lead by none other than Tommy Lee Jones. I tried to sleep until 5am, practicing all of the relaxation techniques I had ever heard of and even inventing a few of my own (I plan to write a book and become filthy rich so as to provide the funding for the air time required to drive a campaign whose only goal is to make it socially acceptable to sleep during the day). I finally gave up and read from 5-6:30am. I dropped into a deep coma-like sleep as the sun rose into the sky.
I woke at 1:30pm and was not happy about it. Where, exactly, I got this idea that I should be waking in the AM hours I'll never know, but it's starting to bother me. Either I accept the hours that I'm given or I need to find a better means to the end that I've chosen. All of you smug folks that bound out of bed at the crack of dawn and drift blissfully away into slumber before the crickets get fully revved make me ill. Early to bed and early to rise may have made Ben Franklin a happy dude, but it just ain't for me. I get my best sleep before noon. I do my best work after the lights are turned down and the building settles into a peaceful, morguelike stillness. I was actually told at one point that it was out of disrespect for my co-workers that I didn't show up before the imposed starting hour. The speaker probably assumed that I got up with the sun and just sat around reading the morning paper and flossing my cat all morning. As it turns out I neither read the paper (morning or evening edition), nor do I have a caat. Perhaps one day, when I get old(er) or have a compelling reason better than "because I said so", my sleep patterns will naturally change, but right now it just ain't happening. As I said a few days prior, I have no reason to modify my schedule and I can't, for the life of me, figure out what was going through my head to make me think that I should try. If I wasn´t currently avoiding alcohol then I'd drink to that, but the only thing around was the bottom of that bottle of V-8-like stuff, and I ain't goin near there. End tirade, my apologies for any distress it may have caused you. I feel better.
I breezed out at 3:45pm in a search for the first book in the Moonlight Bay trilogy and came up empty. I did, however, see a five man band roaming around town: trumpet, trombone, saxophone, bass drum, and snare drum. They actually had it goin on for a bunch of foagies -- Nice to see them doing something with their twilight years ;o). I went back to eat a can of ravioli and some mixed veggies (corn based, five colors). I should probably mention that all of the food buy and eat is not cooked. I think the last time I cooked was in Jerusalem, but don't quote me on it. Food straight from the can eats just fine, and can actually be quite tasty (In the case where it was intended to be tasty. I'm not convinced that all food is packaged with flavor in mind.) Sticking to my resolve, knowing that I was not about to sleep during the night anytime soon, I took a nap for a couple hours during the evening. I left again at 10pm to do some e-mail and sent this one out to my list, I believe it speaks (volumes) for itself:
Subject: that's it... ....I'm outta here tomorrow (monday). Spanish is coming along slowly. Ok, I believe it's slowly, but I may be learning it amazingly fast for a human (how do you know how fast a dog learns a second language??). It's my second (spoken) language and frustrating as hell. That's why I haven't learned one before -- no friggin patience. Same with musical instruments, art, etc. You never know, once I break this barrier (_if_ I break this barrier) I may blossom into the next... ok, who's an art dude? As you can see I've been soaking up the culture on my travels like a veritable sponge. What? My destination? I'm not exactly sure. Actually that's an understatement. I frankly have no clue. I know that I'm headed anti-clockwise around spain and have no desire to go back to Barcelona even for a simple bus transfer. I'll ask the bus gurus where the bus is going when I go to buy a ticket tomorrow. Adios, and get back to work!! ;oP cl P.s. Does it seem to anyone else that I'm becoming quite loquacious since being in Andorra this past while? Lack of conversation is driving me insane. Sure it's nice not to hear the incessant blathering, and conversation with myself is incredibly insightful, but I may be wigging out just a smidge. *twitch, twitch* I'm thinking now that this should have been part of the main body and not a post-script, but then I would have to delete this and the previous sentence and/or try to explain myself and that could be tedious. Ah screw it, I'll just leave it here. It's not like I'm being graded on this or anything. What're you gonna do, delete it without reading it? Hardly likely. You're probably just as hard up for conversation as I am. You're probably enjoying... HEY!! Don't mouse over to that 'Delete' button. Great, I've just lost half my audience. For those of you who are... Ah, who am I kidding, nobody is really left anyway. I'm just typing here to feel the keys depress and snap back. Actually, that's kinda nice on my fingertips. Ohhh, yeah... Ok, now that's embarassing. I'm gonna end this right now. You just watch. Some people would say that they're going to end it and just go on and on, but not me. I'm gonna nip it in the bud. I wouldn't want to prolong it any more than is necessary. I mean jeese, you're just trying to eek out a simple existance. You don't need this tedium in your monotonous lives. How is that job anyway? Does your boss know that you're wasting valuable company time reading this hooey? Who's that walking by? You should tab out to that excel spreadsheet that you keep in the background just in case he walks by. Gah! I can't believe you actually fell for that!!! Bwahahahahaha I can't keep this up whilst laughing so hard. I'm gonna go wipe my eyes. Have an enjoyable one, and take a long lunch on me ;o) (can´t believe they fell for the old "your boss is coming" gag... :oD) P.p.s. You still here? ;o)
- Editor's note:
- I took the liberty of fixing the spelling of "loquatious", adding that missing 'o' to "montonous", and the missing 't' to "wasing" -- they were bothering me.
I got back to my fortress of solitude at 1am, took my contacts out, and tried not to read but failed miserably (just the juicy parts). I opted not to use my glasses this time and found that I could actually read about as well without them as I could with them (I'm massively near sited with a stygmatism -- typical geek vision). After not reading for a while I perused some more español (getting to be quite the habit). At 3:20am I decided to try to sleep since I had to be up for checkout before noon. I leave mañana if all goes as planned, and I have no plan except to leave tomorrow, so...
I tossed for a solid four hours after quenching the light, and slept from 7:30-10am if you don't count the 27 minutes of snoozing that went on. I packed, did my daily routine (everyday for a week now), ate, showered, out by 11:55 :o) Went by one finaly libreria on the way to the bus looking for that ever elusive Moonlight Bay novel but it was closed(?!). The hours on the door said it should be open, but the steel grate convinced me otherwise. The bus guru gave me information that both stunned and amazed me; I had to pause, step out, and breathe. It turns out that the bus only goes to Barcelona. That's it. No other destinations at all. It's a conspiracy, I tell ya. Convinced of that now. Everyone must be in on it. They all know. It's The Truman Show all over again. *sigh* I caved. The ticket cost 2435ptas and my coach leaves at 3pm. I left my bags with the guru, wandered the town in search of my book (still fruitless), and bought some fruit (heh). The four hour trip took less than three hours and put me into the Barcelona north bus terminal at 5:45pm. I steeled myself, bought a ticket to Zaragoza (the capitol city of Aragon, a region in Northern Spain) leaving at 6:30pm for 1655ptas, and eyed everyone warily seeing evil behind even the most innocent of eyes. I had been tainted, scarred, warped (ok, I was warped before, but still). I'd never be the same. Actually, since we're only a collection of our experiences then one could argue that none of us will ever be the same from moment to moment throughout life, but that was not my point.
The ride to Zaragoza took three and a half hours and put me into their bus terminal at 10pm. For anyone that has travelled on the cuff, without reservations or plans, you would recognize this arrival time as sub-optimal. Nothing was open. I had no map of Zaragoza (not even provided in the year 2000 edition of the Lonely Planet Western Europe guide book that I was carrying). I was in a bad way. I decided to begin walking when I saw some folks closing up the bus terminal ticket office. Cool. I went up and asked if they had a map of Zaragoza. The man blinked and said, "¿Que?" I repeated my question to which he responded a string of vowels and consonants compacted so tightly together that I can only assume that they were one word. I blinked and said, "What?" We were communicating :o) A nice woman (nothing less than stunning) emerged from the office to speak to me and see what the silly american who didn't know how to say "¿Tiene es mapa?" wanted. I asked my question again, which she understoond and went back in to look for a map -- and didn't find one. She returned to ask me where I was trying to go, knew where it was and gave me awful directions including absolutely no street names no matter how I asked for them. The walk, she said, was ten minutes. Half an hour later I found a large sign on the side of the road that included a map and a large red "You are here" blot on it (in spanish of course, but I have been reading my little book for a few days now...). I got to the pensioné at 11pm and they were full (completo!). Dang. I set out to find the other one listed in my Lonely Planet. Completo! Dang, dang. Remember that I have both my bags and a large paper sack with cord handles containing all of the stuff I had purchased that wouldn't fit in my bags and food that I didn't eat on the bus (it was heavier than I would have liked, and frankly I'd have liked not to have it). Fine, I caught a cab to the HI Youth Hostel since I had no prayer of finding it without a map and it was probably far. The cab cost 755ptas, I could live with that. 11:45pm -- Completo!!
The man didn't speak a lick of english. I got my dictionary out as he called for a girl from the other room who spoke some english. She explained that they were full (completo! duh). I asked when I should return to get a room. She asked the man and he said 8am. Hmmpf. I asked him if he could suggest another place. He did, three blocks away -- completo! Back at the HI hostel I asked if I could sit on their bench in the entry and read for oh, say, 8 hours. Imposible! (1-it´s spelled correctly with one 's', I just looked it up. 2-I've hated that word, particularly the enunciation that non-english speakers put on it, ever since I met this french guy on my trip to climb Mt. Sinai in Egypt.) As an afterthought I decided to ask the dork how much it would cost for a night's accommodation (in spanish), to which he responded "here?" (in spanish). Again I was stunned and had to practice great restraint when I responded only in the affirmative. Like he would know how much it would cost to stay at the pensioné I was about to walk back to. 1500ptas for a night, same as the pensioné. I got a map from him before leaving and began walking. There was no reason to take a cab as I had plenty of time to get there and didn't mind the exercise. Dunno how far it was but it's about a 30 minute walk at a good pace unencumbered. I think it took me the better part of an hour with my bags, and I was disliking the large paper sack more and more. I decided to hang out at an unused bus stop in the Plaza de España where I arrived around 12:30 -- nice place, just two short blocks from the pensioné La Peña. My bus stop had the 3/4 glass enclosure and a nice bench up against a corner that I could hang out pretty comfortably at. On the up-side (of course), I got exercise, I got a nice bus map from the dude at the bus info booth (before he closed it shortly after I arrived), the night was fairly pleasant, and the book rocks and I have insomnia :o).
The temperature started at 18 degrees celcius (that´s about 65F) 1am and dropped to hang for most of the night at around 13C (that would be about 55F) with a gentle breeze. Not too cold, but I had to get up and wander around periodically. Because I had my bags I couldn't wander freely, but wasn't really tired. I decided to eat some of the food I had with me around 3am (I've learned always to have food): corn, tuna, muscles, and bread. I picked up everything again and wandered around from 4-5am, then returned to my bench and finished the book at 7:38am. My plan was to be at the pensioné La Peña at 8am to be sure to secure a room. I woke the guy. He said come back at noon. Dang. I went acrossed to a local cafe that looked open, dropped my stuff, went to order and the guy said that they didn't open until 10:30. I went back to the plaza with the destination of McDonald's in mind. It wasn't open and their hours weren't posted. Sheesh. I went to a cafe that I actually saw customers being served in and ordered a 250ptas cup of tea (that´s like US$1.50 -- I was unimpressed, but the tea was nice). I was beginning to wonder what planet I was on where the whole city (even McD's) stayed shut through the morning -- I've stayed up for the morning before, I know what it´s like in Seattle and it's nothing like this. At least I could watch people pose and posture (better than in Paris) as they got their morning espresso at the cafe -- hee hee, funny (yet pretty) people :o) With the sun comes weariness, I was starting to get tired. It was, after all, past my bedtime. Next stop was McD´s at 9am (surely that was when they opened). A warm breakfast would probably tip me over and make me sleepy, but it would also give me something to do and I'd been eyeing McDonald's for hours now. I watched McD's and waited. A full crew entered at 9am. Cool. No. They were only cleaning... A big ol' libreria opens at 10am, I´ll just wait for that. Surely they'll have my book in a store that size. 10am, the book? No. Lots of english books, but nothing by Koontz. I did meet an older english dude that's retired here who showed me two other librerias close by, but still no luck on Koontz. I was non-plussed. 10:30am and clearly McD's must be open by now... No. I'm starting to think that maybe I won't get a room at noon. Maybe he was bothered that I woke him and told me to come back late. I worried... 11am sitting on the window ledge of McD's and I'm getting cranky (no sleep, hungry, sun, you do the math). Danged place still isn't open. They've been cleaning for hours. I saw this one girl mop the same floor three times. What was she thinking?? Another issue I have is that any sentence that I say in español that has the word "inglés" in it then their eyes glaze over and they say "no habla inglés". I wasn't asking if they friggin habla inglés, I was asking for "libro inglés", which would be a book in english. My morning could have been more rewarding. McD's opened their doors at 11:12am. Interesting. I ordered a McRoyal Menu (no cheese, super size, coke) and two McPollo (special, two McChicken for 500ptas). The dude at the pensioné La Peña greeted me at noon, spot on, and gave me a room fro 1500ptas -- then told me to come back at 3pm so they could clean. If he only knew... Acrossed the way I got a shave and a much needed trim for my goat (900ptas) and then went back to the tourist info booth I had found in my wander early in the morning. They gave me a good map, the location of the bus station where I could find a bus in the direction of San Sebastian (not the same one I had come in to), and the location of more book stores. In the same Plaza Del Pilar there is a massive church (Basilica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, go figure). The interesting points to it are the ceilings that are painted light blue on white and this little statue that the Virgin Mary supposedly left to some dude in a vision, otherwise it´s a big ol' cathedral. I used my time to feed the pigeons (seed was 100ptas) which I'm sure didn't need anymore seed to eat -- pudgy bastards. Went back at around 2:30pm, ever the rebel, and was going to go to the used book store with the dead books I had been hauling around breaking a cardinal rule of backpacking. My feet hurt so I took my shoes off to check them out. Turns out my right foot had a nice blister on it from my mountain climbing adventures. I drained that and engaged in a bit of hygiene related activities. Next thing I know it's 9:30pm. I must have dozed off ;o) I did only half my workout, grabbed a shower, and then met some aussies in the hall. The invited me to go drinking with them but I'm not positive of the location. A bit later more aussies came in and gave me better directions to the pub where the first ones were waiting so I got dressed and went there. Ok, as I was dressing the knee of my gramicci pants blew out. Not a good thing. Since they were the one of my two pair of pants that I liked I had been wearing them pretty much constantly (washing when needed of course) for the better part of seven months. It was inevitable I guess. I donned the other pants and met the first set of aussies for a glass of beer. We moved to another pub after the second group didn't show and played some doubles pool. This one had Guiness in a can, which I actually like, so I got one. My pool game was in the toilet. Finally we went back to the pensione for a glass of wine and some conversation. One thing led to another and around 3am I found that the guy (Brian) had a CD player and about 30 CD's along -- so much for sleep. He was going to a Chemical Brothers concert the following night and then leaving so my time was short. I spent the rest of the night and the next day copying his discs. He was mostly into jazz (ewww), but I was able to pull Beth Orton, The Sundays, Arethra Franklin, Lightnin´ Hopkins (a blues god), Suzanne Vega (not Luca), Jeff Buckley, Tylea, Otis Redding, James Brown, The Rebirth of Cool: Phive and Six (two compliation albums of cool alternative stuff), and Billy Holiday. Finally some music, not perfect to my tastes, but still...
At 1:30pm (still up) I went down and had lunch with Claire, Jodi, and Brian (the aussies from the night before) in the pensioné cafe while a CD was copying. I'm getting kinda punchy by this time -- no workout today, too wasted. Lunch was some cold cuts, olives, brad, then paella, then lamb and lettuce and a piece of Claire's fish, then fruit salad for desert with wine and a 7-up-like soda to drink -- all for 1000ptas (about US$7). I went up and continued my copying spree, finally emerging around 7pm to wander with Brian who was looking for a pair of socks to buy; he found none by 8pm when we returned, and I was still copying his music as we looked. I needed about 15 minutes to finish the last MD and they were leaving to get some sangria before the concert. Final count leaves me with three blank minidiscs and the four that I had recorded that lousy music from tapes onto, plus a maximum of 5 that I can squeeze into my carrying cases if I choose to buy more -- cool. I finished up and didn't find them where I thought they'd be drinking so I returned via McDonald's (ordered exactly the same as before -- didn't have the energy to think of other restaurant or menu options), took it up to my room and ate it. It was 10:30pm when I tried to sleep. My room, became an oven by 11:30pm (I'm on the top floor), and I awoke in a sweaty panic believing completely that I was trapped in a very tiny room with no air that looked oddly just like my room but was deep underground (I do have some imagination). I went back to sleep once I got my wits about me with the alarm set for 3am so I could swap batteries out of my charger for my minidisc player. 3am had me in a panic again trying to figure out the noise, which turned out to be my alarm -- I shut it off. I shouldn't stay up so long, I'm thinkin'. Went back to sleep only to be awakened by Brian in search of his CD's at 8:15am (totally expected). I went back to sleep yet again...
My alarm didn't ring at 10:00am as I had planned. This was undoubtedly due to the fact that I tried to set it in a half-sleeping stupor at 3am. Luckily I woke for some reason at 11:30am (now I'm thinking that it was the maid trying to clean my room). Struggling, I staggered down and paid for another night and then returned to try to wake up. I listened to Jeff Buckley and Tylea (they share a minidisc), lounged about like the lazy sot that I am, and began inputting the disc name and track names to my newly recorded minidiscs (tedious but rewarding for someone as anal as I am, "anal" being a positive character trait). I resumed my exercise regimine and feel confident that a habit has been formed -- cool :o) At 4pm I briefly met two guys from Austin of India-Indian descent named Nero and Wutzel (nice guys, awesome names, no accents either from India or Texas), and then left to hunt for the bookstores that the info-babe turned me on to. I found all the places that she showed me on the map and none of them took used english books in trade, so, being next to the HI hostel, I stopped in and just left the books for someone else to pick up (better than throwing them away, and I didn't want to carry them any longer). In my search I bought a children's book in spanish for about 5th grade reading level. Reading was how I learned english so I figure why change now? We'll see how it works out. On my way back I stopped into a spanish subshop type place called "Festive" and got a couple weird subs on crunchy toasted french rolls, some decent fries, and a beer. I then went on a walk as dusk settled in, through Plaza Del Pilar, acrossed the river, through the park on the other side, back through Plaza Del Pilar where I sat for a while and watched folks and one of the awesome fountains in the plaza. Finally at 11pm I returned to my room and finally showered and laid down to sleep at 12:15. Nearly eveything I do now involves music (again), and I am happier for it.