Bones Festes Bonita.

I recently spent five days in the absolutely beautiful city that is Barcelona , instantly propelled into my top three cities, behind Berlin and Budapest.

This was our first glimpse of the glorious city;

We were scheduled to stay in the seaside town of Santa Susanna but decided to stay in a Hostel (Lullaby) smack bang in the middle of the city on the first night as we were so captivated by the place. There was so much thought and detail behind everything, from shop window displays to hotel lobbies, we were absolutely mesmerised. Like everything seemed to be in Barca, the Hostel was effortlessly stylish and really well run. Shame there were many a brawl on the street outside of our room that kept us from retreating to the much needed land of nodd, resulting in the worst nights (lack of) sleep during the whole trip.


The next hazy sleep deprived day was spent mooching around the city, being totally awe-struck by Gaudis architecture ;

(oh my gaud it is incredible)

 picnicking outside the Cathedral and discovering some true gems like this beautiful vegan restaurant;

We hadn't actually checked how much the train to Santa Susanna was and had visions of forking of 40 euros plus, with a £100 budget for the 5 days we were worried to say the least. To our absolute relief it only cost 4.30 euros, for a 90 minute train ride! We arrived in Santa Susanna at about 9pm, we worried we would be to late (a day and a half) to check in. But that was the least of our worries.

Once we'd walked down the beach for about 20 minutes to find our Hotel we also found that is was boarded up with a sign reading 'HOTEL CLOSED', on closer inspection it had a list of all guests that were meant to stay there and contact details for another hotel they could stay in. Our names were not on the list.

As, you can tell, we were overjoyed with this news. We decided we'd chase up the Hotel the others guests had been allocated to, somehow made it in time for the last train to Callela where we were directed to Hotel Amaika.

The lights were off. We were faced with another sign, diverting us to 'Callela Palace' A 10 minute walk away, my friend who studies Tourism installed further fears as he was dubious of any Hotel that bore the name 'Palace'.

We planned our whole speech, demanding rooms even though we weren't on the list, demanding the train fare back towards the city, proving our rights with various documentation however when we arrived at the warmly inviting plush Palace the receptionist simply said 'Ohh we've been expecting you'.  Talk about anti-climax. We would've been happy with any old room, all we craved was some silent slumber but the Hotel was even better than the one we had originally booked with. It had an indoors pool, sauna , jacuzzi and every room had a balcony that backed out onto the most glorious view of the hills.

The next day was spent exploring the beach and hills, we found a beautiful ruin and watched the sunset . We could see all the way to Barcelona centre. It was magical.

Once we made it back to ground level we supplemented the local Tapas and drained the local Sangria supply.

We were warned by everyone of the pick pockets but, probably due to the fact we went in December, we didn't come into direct contact with any, as far as we know anyway (cue the moment we look at our bank statements and realise we had our bank cards stolen).

The last two days were spent getting lost in the city, stumbling upon the most beautiful restaurants and spending far too much money on good food whilst visiting Gaudis 'house of bones'.

One moment that I will never ever forget occurred on the last day. We were sitting on a park bench in the centre, having lengthy conversations, mainly about tiny details of the beautiful landscape we were surrounded by. Despite the deep converse, my attention kept wandering to an old beggar man who sat on a bench on the other side of the park, all he seemed to own was a can of lager but seemed oddly content.

Throughout the two-and-a-half hour conversation that took place on the bench I would glance over at the man, who for the whole time was fiddling with his can, and what appeared to be a knife, not wanting to provoke him in anyway or seem rude, I would quickly turn away from him but was still totally captivated.

Then he stood up and began walking over to us, slightly aggressively but with an optimistic bounce in his step. He then handed me the most beautifully crafted candle holder whilst saying 'Bones Festes Bonita' which means 'Happy Holiday Beautiful' in Spanish. Before I could properly say thank you (despite shouting 'Gracias, es Bonito' pretty loudly after him) he had bounced away, waving  backwards, towards us with a beaming smile.

The single thought that he had nothing materialistically yet bore such creative skills and gave away all that he had ,makes me feel warm and fuzzy. In that one moment, it felt like Christmas. 

I was petrified we wouldn't be allowed to bring it back into the country as we only had hand luggage and it was pretty damn sharp, luckily, by a few (probably illegal) means it's now sitting on my window ledge, a permanent reminder of the good in Humanity and my beautiful Barcelonian break!

Deactivation.

it's 04.43am, through hazy hungover eyes I relentlessly scroll down the news feed in hope of stumbling upon something of interest ,of worth, yet again I'm faced with superficial statuses that leave me feeling nothing but frustration and distain towards society and what we have all become. Drastic maybe but true for me nonetheless. Just think of all the knowledge, now I don't mean updates on people we don't really knows holidays, I mean real factual knowledge that will inspire us in ways that we never thought imaginable we could consume if we didn't spend so much time on facebook, absorbing often pointless, drivel by undereducated (myself included)of pretentious (myself included) teenagers.

When a sibling replies to an update of the day with ' I know already, I've seen it on facebook' I think that's when I really sat up and questioned the power of this website, because if we strip it back, that's what it is, just a website. I don't want to be constantly updated on my best friend’s lives let alone people that I've met once or sometimes not even at all! I would rather sit down face to face and talk, catch up like they used to, heck even as archaic as it may be even an email would be more enjoyable, something tailored to you.

Being a budding scriptwriter I really feel we have lost the capability to tell stories, and tell them well, whole experiences are summed up into statuses or captions.I'm going to challenge myself to have a facebook free summer, see how much I can read, learn and enjoy without hundreds of opinions clouding my sight. This will be a test for me, who actually wants to contact me, and who will really invest their time to tell me what they've been doing recently instead of expecting me to just peruse their life online.

You came on your own. That's how you'll leave.

But I didn't come on my own, although that's how I'll probably leave.

Today it's my Birthday, it seems so odd writing/saying that, I normally say our. Today is the first day my twin sister and I have ever had a Birthday apart.

Last night/this morning at 12:00am we turned 19, that time last year we were literally counting down every hour minute and second to finally become 'adults'. This time last year we were getting ready to have our first legal night out in Birmingham. This year  I spent the night in my halls in Bournemouth, eating pizza and watching films whilst my Twin spent the night in her halls in London. Although I had company the first thing I did was ring her.

The conversation started with excitement and  congratulations as we both dug out our birthday cards from family friends and members, deciphering handwriting and stereotypical envelope colours we managed to open the same cards at the same time. When it came to opening the card from our parents we both stopped talking, stopped reading and just started crying.

It was such an odd rush of pure sadness. I think we finally realised it would never really be the same. I'm not sure about her but I had a flood of flashbacks, every memorable birthday, big party, but mainly the wake up call. Our mum would bring us bacon buttys every year and watch as we opened all our cards and gifts. Eventually the poor soulds who had the pleasure of our company whilst we were wailing managed to calm us down.

Throughout the day we kept each other up to speed with our whereabouts she even skyped me from a noodle bar in Leicester Square. Technology is a live saver. The last call of the day through a crackling line consisted of her slurring 'Joo it's our birthday, I'm so drunk. I love you'.

I guess we have to realise that we're leading independent lives now, it's just so hard.

Ubuntu.

As much as I admire and endorse the usage of the Operatng System this post isn't about that, it's about the philosophy of 'Ubuntu' from which the OS stemmed.

A few nights ago I found myself trawling through the web in search of inspiration, starting on facebook (surprisingly). I've been really interested in the idealist views of the Zeitgeist Movement for a while now and they recently posted this video. The short documentary mainly revolves around the ideology of a resource based society, a society in which I whole heartily support.

Living in my ideal bubble money would be totally obliterated, we wouldn't need weapons, war or even oil (which is probably at the heart of most wars). WHY CAN'T WE ALL LIVE IN HARMONY.



Anyway, the video is where my naive ears first heard the word 'Ubuntu' I was instantly drawn to it and googled, wikied and youtubes it straight away. From inspirational speeches from Mandella and Bill Clinton to 'How To's' of the Operation System I sat through it all, gob smacked. I truly think for the first time I was resonating with something philosophical.

'Ubuntu' is a south African word which has been translated by hundreds of people and applied to hundreds of different situations but my favourite translation is;

 'I am what I am, because of who we all are'

For years now I have felt myself eventually coming to the conclusion that this sense of originality and individualism that we all (secretly or openly) desire is just a fascade. Whether we like it or not we all all influenced by hundreds of things in hundreds of different ways on a daily basis in this current society. Everyone wants to beat everyone, to have more money, to have the most 'desirable' features but eventually we we all wear out. The world will be populated  with egos, not humans. We all need to just stop. Zoom out of our 'hectic' and 'complicated' lives and realise how simple life can be, if only we would let it.

We don't need to stress over our favourite pair of jeans ripping, our beloved mug breaking, or gaining a few pounds or even loosing a couple of quid. Appreciate the time we spend talking at crazy hours of the morning, the times when we can't stop laughing and heck even the times when we are so bored we think our brains will just blackout. Even in those moments ,we are so lucky , we're given so much, to feel truly 'bored' (in which itself rattles my brain, is anyone truly ever 'bored') is almost offensive to those who don't have what we have.

 Anyway as much as the tangent is proving therapeutic to me , it's probably boring (or is it? ha) you. The feeling I got after a long night of delving deep into African philosophy and community spirit is the closest I think I've ever felt to having an epiphany.

Life is too short to fret, in fact you shorten it if you do. So smile more, laugh more and RELAX MORE.

Twindom.

Although my sister came down for a weekend in November half of my flatmates were either at home or had prior commitments so this Monday was the first time a handful (I have 17 flatmates) got to properly talk to her. I think my course mates who have only ever known me found it the strangest. One close friend kept looking at me and mouthing ' I can't do this' whilst reacting to my sisters laugh which is apprently identical.

I suppose we've never been exposed to anything quite like it, our entire lives have been spent with people being totally aware that we are twins (partially because we used to spend every waking moment together) so this is all a bit new. I can't imagine how bizzare it must be for one of my friends to meet Abi for the first time. When I try and think about how I would feel if I were in their position I actually feel uncomfortable.

Boyfriends is a new one too. I met my sisters boyfriend for the first time at Xmas, as she met him at Uni. He didn't cope very well, he found it very hard to not compare our every word, smile or intonation, he is adament that we are totally the same. I still don't think he has gotten his head round the idea, almsot 2 months on!

Uni-belivable.

The past 24 hours have been everything I wanted out of Uni. You'd naturally assuming milk cider and mosh pits wouldn't mix well but last night was one of the best nights in Bournemouth.Surrounded by flat mates and coursemates, I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else other than the middle of a sweaty mosh pit on a Tuesday night.

This morning was spent drawing naked men for a free 'life drawing' class and this afternoon was spent devising and writing comedy sketches in the form of 5 second films in the bar on campus. I love Uni so so much.